Birth

Ryoma Echizen had been born with numerous birthmarks, none of which one typically considers to be pretty. One encircled his neck, many others littering his back. Bright red when he had been born, it had eventually faded to color just a touch lighter than his skin tone, making it difficult to see even for those who looked closely.

Neither Nanjiroh nor Rinko had known what to make of those strange birthmarks on their otherwise perfectly healthy son. The doctor assured them that it didn't cause Ryoma any pain or discomfort, so the pair pushed the matter to the back of their mind.

(A legend says that your birthmarks show the way you died in your previous life)

"You have pretty strange birthmarks if I must say," Syusuke commented lightly, flipping through the pages of the baby album.

Ryoma had shrugged, his back facing away from Syusuke as he did so. "I guess I did. It's barely visible now. Had been for almost ten years now."

"Hmm, even up close it's hard to see," Fuji said as he looked very closely at Ryoma's neck, hoping to detect the one he saw in the photo to encircle it.

(It wasn't the dozens of blades that they never bothered to pull out before they hanged him or the rope itself that hurt him the most. It was the betrayal, the way that the world spat on and stomped on his ideals. And what was he but a lonely and helpless sword without his ideals)

"I think there's a legend." Syusuke began carefully. "That said your birthmark shows the way you died in your previous life."

Ryoma turned to face his senior, his eyes cold and desolate, a ghost of a smile on his lips. Parting his lips, he would say four words that would forever be burned into Syusuke's mind. "Sometimes, legends were right."

Personal

"So, how old were you when you died?"

Ryoma looked up from the book he was reading to face Syusuke, shooting the latter a withering glare as if to say "Really?"

The so-called genius shrugged. "Well, I'm curious."

Ryoma sighed, putting his book down. "Thirty-two. I know, I know that's way too young but I didn't exactly lead a healthy lifestyle in my previous life."

(Involving himself in many battlefields and other horrific conditions couldn't have been good for his health. The smokes alone were probably enough to ruin his lungs if it's not for Avalon)

"And your birthmarks?" Syusuke continued carefully, knowing that he was treading dangerous waters. Even with Yumiko, Ryoma has always given vague answers regarding his past life.

Ryoma's lips twitched. "Getting up close and personal aren't we?"

(Shirou Emiya has never been one to use sarcasm and snark as a defense mechanism. But Ryoma Echizen? He learned from the best and he's not gonna let it to waste)

"You have no problem telling me that it shows the way you died." Syusuke pressed on, wondering exactly how far he could go before Ryoma started pushing back. "Now I just need confirmation."

"It wasn't self-inflicted," Ryoma said curtly before standing up and walking away, leaving Syusuke to ponder the implications behind his words.

Logic

For the first time in many many decades, Ryoma wanted to cry. Not because anything bad or horrific happened to him, he's used to tragedies after all (Mostly because his previous life was one), but because of the sheer stupidity of the entire situation.

He knew for one that despite the absolute lack of Mana in the air, most of the humans in the new world he was reincarnated into still had something resembling Od and Magic Circuits inside them. He also knew that Magecraft as he knew it was pretty much impossible. But he knew he could still use Reinforcement to enhance his body, though nowhere near as effective as in his previous life. All those leads him to believe that as a whole, what existed in the world wasn't "magic" so to speak but something more akin to "internal energy" that many martial arts seemed to put emphasis on.

While everyone else was either surprised by or admiring Ryoga's achievement of Pinnacle of Perfection, Ryoma buried his face into his palm. He pointedly ignored his father strutting in to say something about enjoying tennis or whatever. He's way too distressed by the fact that apparently, the logic of this particular world seemed to dictate that out of all things, tennis was the key to awaken one's Magical Circuits from dormancy.

"Oh Root, why."

(Ryoma knew that he could never achieve the Pinnacle of Perfection himself. His soul was too distorted, too broken, to truly enjoy tennis as it is. Maybe if he hadn't been Shirou Emiya in his previous life, he could have. But he was Shirou Emiya and he couldn't do anything about it)

Awake

Remembering was a lot like waking up. Like a fog being cleared from his mind.

There was no sudden rush of memories that overloaded his brain. There was no sudden realization. There was no shock in realizing that he had been reincarnated because deep down he had always known. The memories were always there, just inaccessible to him.

It was that way because Ryoma had simply never forgotten.

In the end, it was as natural as breathing. No thoughts or feelings are involved.

One moment he was Ryoma Echizen, the eight-year-old son of the Samurai Nanjiroh, exceptionally good at tennis for his age, a boy who sometimes looked far too world-weary for his age, and who sometimes woke up in the middle of the night, cold sweats from a nightmare he couldn't remember. The next moment, he was still Ryoma Echizen, just one who remembered he was Shirou Emiya in his previous life. He remembered how once upon a time he was a sword, one who left everything behind to pursue his ideals and was betrayed by it.

That moment, Ryoma had shrugged and carried on. He has an older brother to beat in tennis and maybe Shirou Emiya has some solutions for that.

Ghost

Sometimes Ryoma couldn't help but wonder if the fact he had gained the attention of one eternally energetic and loud Tooyama Kintarou was karma from his past life for leaving Taiga behind without a word.

It wasn't hard at all for him to see the similarities. Perpetually upbeat? Check. Perpetually hungry and asking him for food? Check. Incredibly confident in themselves? Check. Freakishly strong despite their stature? Check. Never listening to people unless threatened? Check. The only thing missing was Taiga's temper but Ryoma thanked the gods for making Kintarou as oblivious as a parakeet and pretty much incapable of being angry.

"Koshimae! Koshimae! Look at my new technique!"

Ryoma groaned. Maybe the temper had been replaced by the inability to read people's names correctly.

Unfortunately, he was so deep in his thought that he completely missed the shouts coming from his teammates warning him of a ball heading toward him. If he had noticed, he could have dodged or used his Reinforcement to lessen the damage. But he didn't, so twenty minutes later Ryoma woke up in the infirmary, the red-haired Shitenhoji regular by the bedside.

"Koshimae, I'm so sorry! I was so excited that I didn't notice where I was hitting the ball to and well…" In an extremely rare show of sobriety, Kintarou was honest to god looking guilty.

Ryoma sighed. Even the way they fretted after making a mistake was so similar. Shaking his head, Ryoma reminded himself to stop seeing ghosts where there aren't. No matter how much Shirou Emiya wished he could go back and make it up to Taiga, there's now only Ryoma Echizen and Tooyama Kintarou.

"It's fine, it's my fault for zoning out." He waved off. "Also, just call me Ryoma. Koshimae is wrong and also a mouthful to hear."

When he saw the grin blossom on the fellow Super Rookie's face, Ryoma couldn't help but wonder if he had just made a mistake.