The sun. It was almost offensive in its intensity. A relentless golden disk hanging in a sky so clear and vibrant blue it seemed to mock the murky confusion dominating Hikigaya Hachiman's mind. Warm rays bathed his face, forcing him to squint, while the insistent chirping of unknown birds formed an annoyingly cheerful melody. Before him, a cobblestone street buzzed with frantic activity: carts pulled by animals resembling horses, but with a strange robustness; people dressed in tunics, leather, and occasionally, pieces of metal that clinked with each step; loud voices hawking wares in a language that, surprisingly, he could understand, though it sounded archaic and strange to his modern ears. The acrid smell of woodsmoke mixed with the odor of animals, exotic food being cooked somewhere nearby, and the dust kicked up by constant movement.
A medieval world, the realization echoed in his mind, not with the wonder of a fantasy fan, but with a bitter taste of ashes. Full of insecurities. Perfect. He was leaning against a rough stone wall, feeling the uneven texture against the back of his hand, trying to anchor himself in a reality that seemed determined to reject him. The insecurity wasn't just about the unfamiliar environment; it was the old acquaintance, the constant companion he thought, for a brief, foolish moment, he had left behind that fateful morning. The irony was so palpable he could almost taste it, stronger than the metallic tang that still vaguely lingered in his mouth.
His gaze swept the scene again, his "dead fish eyes," as they were cruelly nicknamed, analyzing everything with a defensive detachment. People laughed, bargained, ran. Children chased something small and furry that was definitely not a common house cat. A bizarre and vibrant normality that violently contrasted with Hachiman's internal turmoil. He didn't belong here. He was a cosmic typo, a dissonant note in the noisy symphony of this place.
It was then that his gaze fell upon a figure sprawled on the stone floor, a few meters away, near the base of an ornamental fountain from which water gushed with a pleasant sound that, at that moment, seemed like just more background noise. It was a girl. And she stood out even more than he did in this setting. Hair as vibrant blue as the sky above, long and silky even tangled with dust and a few twigs. She wore something that looked like a stylized and impractical version of a celestial outfit – a short blue skirt with gold details, a sort of white and gold vest over a light blue blouse, and a hair ornament resembling a stylized water molecule. There was also a thin translucent 羽衣 (hagoromo) scarf floating gently around her, looking completely out of place and immune to the dirt on the ground. She was groaning softly, one hand pressed to her forehead, her eyes – an equally intense blue – blinking in disorientation.
Ah, thought Hachiman, an almost inaudible sigh escaping his lips. There it is. Surely, this one will bring me trouble. It was an almost Pavlovian instinct. Flashy, loud, or simply out-of-place figures usually meant complications in his life. And that girl screamed "complication" in a tone of blue and gold. The way she was fallen, the bizarre outfit, the almost palpable aura of... something... surrounding her. She was a beacon of potential problems, and he was dangerously close.
The image of the blue-haired girl seemed to dislodge something in his memory, opening the floodgates to the torrent of events that had thrown him into this alleyway of alternate reality.
Before. Before the stone street, the offensive sun, the problematic girl. Before, there was asphalt, the familiar hum of morning traffic, and a strange and uncomfortable feeling bubbling in his chest: excitement. Yes, Hikigaya Hachiman, the epitome of teenage cynicism, was genuinely excited. It was the first day at a new school, a transfer arranged after... well, after incidents he preferred to forget. But there it was, the fragile, almost ridiculous promise of a new page. A chance to maybe, just maybe, be a little less... himself. To try that thing normal people called "socializing" or "having a normal school life." The thought was so absurd it made him pedal his bike a little harder, a minimal, almost imperceptible smile threatening to curve his lips.
He was immersed in this unlikely fantasy, imagining scenarios where he wasn't immediately isolated or misunderstood, when the real world decided to intervene with its characteristic brutality. A sharp, desperate bark cut through the air. Turning his head, he saw it: a small dog, a ball of beige and white fur, clearly a pet judging by the red collar, running uncontrollably into the middle of the street. And then, the sound that froze his blood: the sharp screech of tires braking hard on the asphalt. A black car, large and menacing, was coming at high speed, the driver clearly caught by surprise.
There was no time to think. There was no cynical calculation of risk versus reward. There was no analysis of how it would affect his non-existent reputation. There was only the frightened bark, the image of the small helpless animal, and the mass of metal on a collision course. It was pure impulse, a reaction so atypical of his usual self that, even now, the memory confused him. He yanked the handlebars of his bike hard, the muscles in his legs burning as he pedaled with a speed he didn't know he possessed, directly into the path of danger.
The impact was less a collision and more an annihilation. He felt the bike frame twisting beneath him, the deafening sound of twisting metal mixed with the dull, sickening thud of his own body being thrown. There was a fraction of a second of awareness in the air, a kaleidoscopic view of the blue sky, the spinning asphalt, and the small dog – safe, now on the other side of the street, looking back with wide eyes. At least that, was his last coherent thought before darkness swallowed him. He didn't feel the excruciating pain that should have come with broken bones and ruptured organs. He felt only a sudden cold and a deep silence that contrasted with the chaos of seconds before. The dog lived. He didn't. The new page of his life had been torn out before the first sentence was even written.
The darkness didn't last. Or perhaps it lasted an eternity. Time lost meaning in the void that followed. When consciousness returned, it wasn't the light of a hospital or the concern of paramedics that greeted him, but a presence. Indescribable. It wasn't human, nor animal, nor anything he could categorize. It seemed to occupy all space and no space at the same time. A voice, which wasn't quite a voice but a series of concepts and information implanted directly into his mind, began to explain.
The information hit him like a second impact, more devastating than the first. Dead? Like this? Because of a dog? The injustice, the futility, the stupidity of it all engulfed him. The excitement of that morning, the ridiculous hope of a new page... all turned to dust. Panic bubbled, hot and acidic, rising in his throat.
"No! This can't be! I... I saved the dog! I was going to school! I had plans!" the words tumbled out of him, more a cry of frustration than a logical denial. He felt like an idiot for acting on impulse, for throwing away his life – mediocre as it was – for a random animal.
The presence seemed... amused? Annoyed? It was hard to tell.
"Who are you? Where am I? Is this some kind of judgment?" Hachiman fired off, confusion giving way to growing anger. Was he being scolded by a cosmic entity for an act that, in any other story, would be considered heroic?
The "voice" seemed to grow colder.
Hachiman opened his mouth to protest again, to argue about the injustice, about the loss, but the presence interrupted him.
"Linked? Linked to what?"
"Wait! What goddess? What world? I didn't agree to any of this!"
The image of the goddess Aqua, now vaguely recognized from some otaku obscurity he had consumed, seemed even more alarming. That Aqua? The useless goddess from KonoSuba? Panic returned in full force. "No! Anything but that! She's provenly useless and annoying! This isn't punishment, it's torture!"
The presence seemed to hesitate, or perhaps it was just Hachiman's interpretation.
Before he could protest again, he felt a violent pull, as if his very being was being stretched and compressed at the same time. A blinding light, followed by a sensation of dizzying fall, and then... the dull impact on stone, the bright sun, the birds singing. And the blue-haired girl groaning beside him.
The memory hit him with full force, leaving him breathless and leaning against the wall. So that was it. Killed by a dog, judged by a sarcastic cosmic entity, and now... trapped in another world, literally chained to a notoriously incompetent goddess. The mentioned "surprises" seemed like a cruel joke.
"Ow... ow... my head..." The blue-haired girl's voice cut through his dark thoughts. She finally sat up, rubbing her forehead with a childish expression of pain. Her blue eyes met his, and confusion quickly gave way to indignation. "Hey! You! What happened? Where are we? This is all your fault, isn't it?!"
Hachiman just stared at her, his expression deader than ever. "My fault? I was the one hit by a car saving a stupid dog. I was the one who had to put up with a grumpy cosmic being. And now I'm here, in this place... with you." He gestured vaguely towards her. "Apparently, I'm your 'punishment'."
Aqua blinked, processing his words. Her expression shifted from indignation to horrified realization, and then to a loud cry, entirely unbecoming of a goddess. "What?! Punishment?! Me?! The Goddess Aqua, adored by millions (okay, maybe thousands...) being linked to a... a sarcastic, dead-eyed human as punishment?! This is an outrage! A blasphemy! Waaaaah!"
Tears flowed like the waterfalls she probably commanded in her divine prime. They were large, cartoonish tears that seemed to evaporate before they even hit the dusty ground. Hachiman watched the spectacle with profound weariness. Yes, definitely problems. Loud, crying, blue problems.
"Look," he said, cutting off the crying with a sharp tone. "Shouting won't get us out of here. Apparently, we're stuck with each other in this world called Danmachi. From what I gathered from that... being... this place has adventurers, gods, and a dungeon. If we want to survive, or at least eat, we probably need to register somewhere."
Aqua sniffled, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. "Register? Like mere mortals? But I'm a goddess!"
"You were a goddess," Hachiman corrected mercilessly. "Now you're... whatever is linked to me. And I'm a dead guy who got reincarnated here. Neither of us is in a position to demand special treatment. That being said you might be useful. Any idea how?"
Aqua puffed out her cheeks. "Of course I'm useful! I'm a top-class Archpriest! I can purify water, heal wounds, perform exorcisms and... and do party tricks!" She finished with a flourish, conjuring a small rainbow between her fingers.
Hachiman raised an eyebrow. "Party tricks. Great. What about fighting or earning money?"
"Well... technical details," Aqua deflected, the rainbow vanishing. "But my support skills are unmatched!"
"Right. Support skills. We'll need to figure out how to apply them. And for that, we need information and probably a license or something. The obvious place to start seems to be the Adventurer's Guild." Hachiman was already formulating a pragmatic plan. The panic and anger were still there, simmering beneath the surface, but the need for survival was a powerful motivator, even for him.
Aqua sniffled again but seemed a bit less hysterical. The idea of having a purpose, even if it was a mundane purpose like being "support," seemed to appeal to her ego. "Guild... yes, I suppose that's standard procedure in these worlds. Very well! Take me there, my human servant!"
Hachiman just gave her a blank look. "I'm not your servant. We're in this together, apparently against our will. Let's go."
He started walking in the direction that seemed busiest, assuming the Guild would be in a central area. Aqua, after a moment's hesitation and another dramatic sniffle, hurried to catch up, her fluttering scarf looking ridiculously out of place among the adventurers and common citizens.
The walk to the Guild was a mix of silent observations from Hachiman and intermittent complaints from Aqua about the dust, the smell, people's lack of respect, and how much better things were in heaven. Hachiman ignored most of it, focusing on absorbing the details of the environment. The architecture was a mix of stone and wood, with some impressively large buildings standing out. There were people of different races – humans, sturdy dwarves with braided beards, slender elves with pointed ears, and even people with animal features, the so-called beastmen. It was a fantasy melting pot he might have found fascinating if he weren't so fundamentally screwed.
Finally, they reached an imposing building, larger than most around it, with a large symbol engraved above the double entrance – a shield with a crossed hammer and sword. A constant stream of people entered and exited, many carrying weapons and wearing armor. Definitely the right place.
"This is it," Hachiman said, more to himself than to Aqua.
"Finally! I hope they have proper treatment for a goddess like me," Aqua declared, puffing out her chest as they entered.
The interior was even more chaotic than the exterior. A huge hall, with a high ceiling supported by thick wooden columns. A long counter dominated one wall, behind which several clerks attended to noisy adventurers. Murals depicting monsters and heroes adorned the walls, and notice boards were crammed with parchments – probably quests and announcements. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, cheap beer coming from an adjacent area that looked like a tavern, and the palpable tension of people whose lives depended on fighting monsters.
Hachiman headed to the counter, choosing a section that seemed slightly less crowded. Aqua followed him, looking around with a mixture of disdain and curiosity. A clerk with short brown hair and glasses perched on the end of her nose, who seemed surprisingly calm amidst the chaos, looked up at them. She wore a simple Guild uniform.
"Welcome to the Orario Guild. How may I help you?" she asked, her voice professional and slightly weary.
"I want to register as an adventurer," Hachiman said concisely, getting straight to the point. Survival depended on taking the right steps, however unpleasant they might be.
The clerk, whose name tag identified her as Misha Flott, picked up an individual registration form. "New in town? Any prior experience?"
"No relevant experience in this world," Hachiman replied.
Misha started writing. "Understood. I'll need your name and some basic information. Then, I'll explain the process, the rules, and the Familia system. By the way, do you already belong to or intend to join a specific Familia?"
"Hikigaya Hachiman," he provided his name. And then, before he could elaborate on the Familia question as discreetly as possible, the figure beside him decided to take the initiative.
"Humph!" Aqua sniffed, straightening up with an air of importance, outraged at almost being ignored. "Aren't you going to ask my name, mortal?"
Misha blinked, looking at Aqua as if noticing her for the first time as more than a silent companion. "My apologies. Does the young lady also wish to register as an adventurer?"
"Me?! Adventurer?! What an insult!" Aqua declared, placing her hands on her hips. "Don't you see the divine aura emanating from me? Prepare to be honored! You are in the presence of the beautiful and benevolent Water Goddess, Aqua! And this one," she pointed at Hachiman with a dramatic gesture, "is the first and, for now, only member of my noble and future Familia!"
Misha stopped writing. Her expression, previously one of calm professionalism, became a mask of studied neutrality. She looked from Aqua – with her bizarre clothes and bombastic declaration – to Hachiman, who just sighed audibly. In Orario, gods walked among mortals, so the statement wasn't impossible, just... abrupt and coming from someone who didn't exactly look like an established divine figure in the city.
"Ignoring the... performance," Hachiman interjected quickly, seeing Misha's expression waver. "The situation is this: I, Hikigaya Hachiman, wish to become an adventurer. She," he gestured minimally towards Aqua, "is the Goddess Aqua. I intend to form a Familia under her. We need to know the procedures for registering me as an adventurer and what's necessary to... officialize her Familia with the Guild."
Misha absorbed the information, her professional gaze returning, now with a new focus. They weren't just any two newcomers; it was an aspiring adventurer and a Goddess (self-proclaimed or not, the Guild had ways to verify) intending to found a new Familia.
"Understood," Misha said, setting aside the individual registration form and picking up a different set of papers. "Registering as an adventurer under a Goddess who doesn't yet have an established Familia in Orario involves some additional steps. First, we need to process your registration as a potential adventurer. Then, there's the procedure for Goddess Aqua to receive the blessing (Falna) and grant it to you, officializing the Familia. The Guild can assist in this process, providing information and mediating what's necessary." She glanced at Aqua for an instant, perhaps looking for some visible sign of divinity, before turning her gaze back to Hachiman. "Shall I begin by explaining the requirements for you, Hachiman-sama, as the first member?"
Hachiman nodded, ignoring the "-sama" that usually indicated respect for Familia members. It was just the beginning of the infernal bureaucracy he foresaw.
Aqua, for her part, seemed satisfied at having been recognized, even if implicitly. "Exactly! Take good care of my first follower. He may not look like much, but he will be the pillar of the Aqua Familia!"
Aqua Familia, Hachiman thought with an internal shiver of resignation. Off to a good start. He could already feel the future headaches piling up. At least Misha seemed competent, even faced with divine eccentricity. It was a small, tiny positive point in a sea of complications.