Is It Wrong to Wake Up as Myself in Orario?
A DanMachi fanfic 

DON'T READ IT IF YOU EXPECT HEAREM AND FUCKUNG SCENES ONLY.



I was supposed to land in Japan.
Economy seat. Window side. Educational trip on paper—maid cafés in my head. I’d even joked that if the DanMachi world were real, the Hostess of Fertility would put any café to shame. Mama Mia energy. No contest.
Then the sky screamed.
Metal buckled. Alarms howled. A flash—too bright, too wrong. Truck-kun? In the air?
I laughed once, stupidly, and then—
Ding.
That should’ve been the end.
I woke up on cold stone.
No hospital. No wreckage. Just towering walls, morning light spilling down narrow streets, and a city breathing around me—vendors shouting, boots on cobblestone, the distant clang of bells.
Orario.
Not reincarnated. Not reborn.
Me. Same thoughts. Same memories. Same hunger.
A silver bell rang nearby. I turned—and there he was.
Bell Cranel passed me at a run, white hair flashing, eyes bright with a courage that made my chest ache. The world moved around him, like it wanted him to succeed.
An orphan on a scholarship back home.
An extra here.
Or so I thought.
That night, a falna burned into my back like destiny deciding it had waited long enough. Strength answered when I reached. Luck followed when I moved. Floors fell. Monsters did not.
Weeks later, whispers followed me through the streets of Orario.
A nobody who climbed too fast.
An outsider who survived too much.
Bell ran ahead, chasing his dream.
I followed—
not to replace him,
not to steal his encounters—
but to live them.
And if fate had dragged me here, then this time,
I would answer it on my feet.

I pulled the rough hoodie tighter over my face.


Cheap fabric. Too big. Smelled faintly of airplane dust and panic.


(Stolen. Yes. From where I landed. No regrets.)


Babel's interior was a maze of marble and noise. I'd clawed my way up from floors I didn't even have names for yet, through that impossible tower, past adventurers who didn't look twice at someone keeping their head down.


I stepped out of the Guild entrance and into the open air beneath Babel.


My instincts screamed louder than the Dungeon ever had.


"I can't go in," I muttered, keeping my head down as adventurers passed. "I absolutely cannot go in."


If I walked up to the counter and said "Hi, I killed a kobold but my status is… vibes?" I'd be escorted out politely at best.


Dissected socially by gods with too much free time.


"At least Level 4," I whispered to myself. "That's the minimum to be interesting enough to tolerate… not enough to be poked."


I edged away from the entrance, circling Babel like I was avoiding eye contact with destiny itself.


That warm, terrifying, affectionate gaze.


Slowly—very slowly—I glanced upward.


High above. A balcony. Draped in moonlight and arrogance.


A smile that said I see you even when she wasn't looking.


"…She already saw me," I whispered in horror.


If Freya noticed me, that meant one thing.


And interesting people didn't get quiet lives.


I turned sharply away from Babel, blending into the evening crowd.


The kind of jobs people didn't ask questions about.


"So I grind," I said to myself. "Low floors. Solo. No names."


I glanced once more toward Babel—toward that balcony.


"…Please don't fall in love yet," I muttered. "I'm not ready."


Then I disappeared into Orario's side streets, heart pounding, future uncertain.


Chapter 9 - She Saw, Me?!