Disclaimer: Just in case nobody realized I don't own nor do I claim ownership of Highschool DxD, all characters and worlds belong to their real world respective owners. I'm just having some fun, that's all.
Warning sexual content disclaimer: All characters and actions are above 18+
Highschool DxD: The Cursed King of Kuoh
S1 Ch 17: A Coming Storm
The hallway leading to the Occult Research Club felt longer than it ever had. Sukuna walked several steps ahead of the group, hands jammed into his pockets, shoulders tight with irritation. Every footstep echoed sharply against the polished floor, the sound cutting through the low murmur of the school long after classes had ended. The sun outside the windows was beginning to sink, staining the glass with orange and gold, but he paid it no mind.
"Cheaters," he muttered under his breath for the third time. "All devils are cheaters."
Behind him, Rias Gremory covered her mouth, failing—badly—to hide her amusement.
"Now now don't be a sore loser Sukuna. Distractions are a valid tactic in combat," she said, her tone far too light for someone who had just bound a walking catastrophe to her peerage. "You lost fair and square."
Sukuna clicked his tongue with annoyance. "I conceded because you exploited the rules mid-fight."
"Exploited?"Akeno Himejima purred, her voice a warm caress against his back, just a breath behind Rias. "I don't recall exploiting any rules, Sukuna-kun. I just let my girls out for some fresh air." Her tone was honeyed, laced with an amusement that promised delicious trouble, a dangerous allure shimmering beneath.
His fingers twitched at her words. "That was a cheap trick, nothing more."
Akeno's laughter, a soft, vibrating hum, seemed to wrap around him. "Ara~?" she purred, her hand drifting from her cheek to lightly trace the curve of her own neck, a subtle, inviting gesture. "If the sight of a little flesh is enough to unravel you so much, perhaps that's something you should reflect on. Or perhaps," she added, her voice dropping to a seductive murmur, "you're just more sensitive than you let on."
Kiba Yuuto smiled awkwardly from a few steps back, clearly unsure whether to laugh or keep his distance. Koneko Toujou walked silently beside him, her gaze fixed on Sukuna's back with open suspicion.
Sukuna exhaled slowly through his nose. "Devils," he repeated. "All tricks and soft hands."
Rias stopped walking just before the club room door, turning to face him with an unreadable expression. "And yet," she said, "you lost."
Her green eyes met his blue, sharp and searching. For a brief moment something cold stirred behind his gaze as he stared into the bold devil's eyes, searching for fear or anxiety, but finding none. Then he scoffed.
"I suppose I did," he finally huffed.
That more than anything made the group pause. Even Akeno's smile softened ever so slightly, while Rias nodded once, satisfied, before reaching and opening the door.
The Occult Research Club room greeted them with its usual quiet stillness: crimson curtains drawn halfway, warm lamplight casting long shadows across shelves filled with grimoires, ritual tools, and the carefully curated aesthetic of a devil noble's private domain. The scent of old paper and incense lingered faintly in the air.
This room was a crossroads of sorts. Where deals were made and lives were rewritten.
Rias moved toward her desk with practiced calm, heels clicking softly against the floor. Sukuna lingered near the center of the room, arms crossed, eyes flicking over the sigils etched faintly into the floorboards—ancient, subtle, layered with meaning. He could feel the magic embedded here, coiled and patient.
Slowly she opened the top drawer of her desk and withdrew a velvet-lined case. The air in the room changed immediately. Power hummed—low, resonant, and unmistakably devilish. Inside the case lay eight crimson chess pieces, each carved with exquisite detail, each radiating a presence that tugged at Sukuna's senses like hooks beneath the skin.
"Evil Pieces," Rias said, closing the drawer behind her and turning to face the group. "You already know what they do in broad strokes, but I'll explain properly."
She lifted one piece delicately between her fingers—a bishop.
"Each piece corresponds to a role on the chessboard," she continued. "And each role determines how a reincarnated devil's power manifests. Pawns are the most common. Flexible, adaptable, capable of promotion."
Her gaze flicked to Sukuna, measuring. "Bishops enhance magical ability and control. Rooks grant raw power and durability. Knights improve speed and precision. Queens…" She paused, a faint smile curving her lips. "Queens are special."
Akeno leaned against a table, folding her arms beneath her chest. "Though I imagine you'd be difficult to categorize regardless of the piece."
"Hmph," Sukuna replied. "If you're trying to choose what box to put me in, you've already failed."
Rias chuckled, studying him for a long moment, fingers tightening around the piece.
"I was considering a rook," she admitted. "Though with your strange energy perhaps a bishop would be a better choice, given your unique… techniques."
Before she could decide, something shifted. The air trembled, and all eight pawn pieces still nestled in the case began to glow. At first, it was faint—a soft crimson shimmer, like embers stirred by a breeze. Then the glow intensified, pulsing in unison, their light bleeding together until the entire case seemed to burn from within.
Rias froze. "What the-"
The case snapped open violently, the lid slamming back against the desk as the pawn pieces lifted into the air, spinning slowly, their glow now blinding.
Kiba stepped back instinctively. "President?"
"I didn't activate them," Rias said sharply, eyes wide. "This isn't—"
The pawns shot forward. Eight streaks of crimson light crossed the room in an instant, slamming into Sukuna's chest with the force of a battering ram.
The room shook violently. A surge of power detonated outward, a pressure wave that rattled shelves and sent loose papers spiraling. The sigils etched into the floor ignited, glowing blood-red as magic and cursed energy collided and intertwined.
Sukuna gasped, dropping to his knees as the light swallowed him whole.
Pain—raw, overwhelming—ripped through every nerve in his body. It wasn't the clean agony of injury or the sharp clarity of battle. This was a transformation, his very existence being rewritten at a fundamental level.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears. He could feel his bones shifting, muscles tightening, cursed energy flooding channels that had been sealed or dormant. His skin burned, then went numb, then burned again.
Outside the light, the others could only watch.
Akeno's playful expression vanished, replaced by something wary. Koneko's eyes widened slightly. Kiba clenched his fists.
"This much reaction from pawn pieces…" Rias thought. "What are you?"
The light intensified, then slowly—agonizingly—began to recede.
When it finally faded, the room fell deathly quiet. Sukuna remained kneeling on the floor, one hand braced against the wood, his breath coming in slow, heavy pulls.
His body had changed, shredding its disguise and revealing his real appearance.
Black tribal markings sprawled across his arms, torso, and face—jagged and deliberate, like ink carved into flesh rather than applied. His fingers ended in razor-sharp black claws, curved and deadly. And when he lifted his head—
A second, smaller pair of eyes opened beneath the first.
Silence filled the room as they took in his visage.
Akeno inhaled softly "Oh my…"
Kiba stared openly. "I knew it."
Koneko's cat ears, hidden by magic, flickered once.
Rias didn't move. She simply watched, heart pounding, her pieces still warm in her hand. Sukuna, meanwhile, didn't react to any of them, as his attention turned inward.
[Celestial System Notification Received]
The voice was neutral. Cold. Absolute. Information flooded his mind in precise, ordered bursts.
[Cursed Energy Output] – Level 8
[Reverse Curse Technique – Restoration] – Level 8
[Reinforcement] – Level 7
[Cursed Energy Manipulation] – Level 8
[Innate Technique – Shrine: Dismantle] – Level 8
[Innate Technique – Shrine: Cleave] – Level 6
[Innate Technique – Shrine: Spiderweb] – Level 4
Sukuna's lips twitched. Then another pulse rippled through his awareness.
[Ten Shadows Technique: Shikigami unlocked Rabbit Escape]
For a moment, he forgot where he was.
Forgot the devils. The room. The ritual.
Power surged through him like a rising tide, smooth and controlled in a way it had never been before. The Evil Pieces hadn't overwritten him—they'd amplified him, tearing open sealed potential and reinforcing what was already there.
And he laughed.
"I knew It," he thought as he continued to grow stronger.
It had been a gamble but from what he remembered about evil pieces from the series, he knew they could probably unlock more of his sealed power. Now he was once step closer to getting Upper Management's collar off of his neck and all it cost him was having to throw a fight with a bunch of stupid teenagers and probably beat up a flaming turkey.
He chuckled lowly before pushing himself back up to his feet, rolling his shoulders, flexing his clawed fingers as cursed energy rippled across his skin in visible waves. The tattoos seemed to pulse faintly, alive with intent.
"Oh, this feels good," he murmured.
The others tensed as his aura expanded—not violently, but with unmistakable oppression. It pressed against the room like a living thing, sharp enough to prickle the skin.
Rias swallowed. "Sukuna…"
He turned to her, second eyes narrowing as he took her in fully for the first time since the ritual.
"So this is what your pieces do," he said. "Interesting. Crude. But interesting."
Akeno forced a smile, electricity crackling faintly at her fingertips. "You're enjoying this a bit too much."
"Of course I am." He grinned, sharp and feral. "You devils just unlocked more of myself."
He flexed his fingers slowly, watching the black claws catch the lamplight, feeling cursed energy respond with effortless obedience. Every motion carried weight now—clarity. The Evil Pieces hadn't diluted him. They hadn't reshaped him into something else.
They simply removed some of his restrictions. A low satisfied breath escaped him as he felt the power flow through him. It was only then did he notice the dead silence and the slack jaw expressions.
Sukuna followed their gazes down to himself and saw his tribal markings etched across his skin and his claws extending from his hands.
"Well," he said lightly, "that explains the dumb expressions."
He joked, but no one laughed. The tension didn't break either if anything his nonchalant attitude made it coil even tighter.
Rias took a careful step forward. "Sukuna," she said, voice steady but strained, "what exactly are you?"
He rolled his shoulders once, testing the weight of his transformed body. "Your pieces reacted," he replied. "Unlocked things. Boosted others."
"That's not what I meant," she said sternly.
He exhaled through his nose. "I know."
The room stayed on edge as the conversation Sukuna had been dreading finally came to a head.
Sukuna tilted his head, then clicked his tongue in mild annoyance. "Alright, alright."
Cursed energy shifted as he activated his metamorphosis skill.
The air around him warped faintly, like heat over stone. The black markings retreated beneath his skin as though sinking into deeper layers of flesh. The claws shortened, reshaping into human nails. The second set of eyes closed—and vanished completely.
When the distortion faded, Sukuna stood there once more looking mostly human. He glanced down at his hands, rolling his wrists, before looking up.
"There, much less alarming."
Kiba let out a low breath. Akeno's lips curved into a faint smile, though her eyes didn't soften. Rias however stayed on edge.
"That wasn't magic just now," she said slowly.
"No," he agreed. "It wasn't."
"Then I reiterate," her gaze sharpened. "What are you?"
He scoffed and attempted to brush her inquiries aside. "Complicated would be the best word."
"Sukuna," she said, firmer now, "you're now part of my peerage. Whatever you are affects all of us."
And there it was the line he couldn't cross. The weight of Upper Management's first rule bore down on him. Hovering over his head like a weighted blade. He stared at Rias for a long moment, then looked away.
"Tch," he clicked his tongue. "Fine. You want a backstory? I'll give you one."
He turned slightly, gaze drifting toward the far wall as if what he was about to say didn't quite belong to the people in the room.
"As you know I'm from the Doumon Clan."
"Yes," Rias nodded. "One of the Five Principal Clans."
"The same," he nodded. "And as I'm sure you've heard they have a certain penchant for coupling with other races to strengthen their bloodline."
The others nodded, having already suspected as much.
He gestured lazily with one hand. "My mother wasn't human. She was a Youkai."
Koneko twitched at his words.
Sukuna glanced at her, a sharp, crooked grin cutting across his face. "Not too different from your pet cat," he added dryly.
Koneko stiffened. "I am not—"
"I know," he cut in, dismissive. "I was joking. Relax, Miss washboard."
Koneko frowned at his words fuming with anger, while Rias looked intrigued.
Rias frowned. "Do you know what kind of Youkai?"
Sukuna shook his head. "No."
The word landed flat.
"She died giving birth to me," he continued. "Father never told me what she was. Never told me her name either."
The room grew quiet again.
"He called me a curse," Sukuna continued. "Said I was an unwanted little wretch. Something that shouldn't have been born."
Akeno's expression tightened, memories stirring behind her eyes—of rejection, of cruelty wearing the mask of righteousness.
Kiba looked down at the floor.
Rias felt something twist painfully in her chest. "That's… I'm sorry," she said softly. "No child deserves that. Especially not from their own family."
Sukuna shrugged, the motion careless, practiced. "I buried those feelings a long time ago." He paused, then added, voice even, "Around the same time I buried him with my own hands, which led to my exile from that wretched clan." He spat on the floor though internally he was thankful Upper Management had given him such a covenant backstory.
The words fell like stones to the group. No one asked how. No one dared. Silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, filled with implications no one wanted to voice.
Sukuna turned back to them, expression shifting—hardening. The vulnerability, if it had ever truly been there, sealed itself away.
"Anyway," he said briskly. "That's enough about me for one day."
Rias blinked. "Enough—?"
"You didn't drag me into your peerage for some group therapy session," Sukuna interrupted. "You were desperate. Willing to cheat and risk everything. Willing to bind something you don't fully understand."
His lips curled upward. Not friendly, but hungry.
"That means there's a problem," he continued. "A big one. One you can't solve on your own."
He stepped forward, presence sharpening, cursed energy pressing subtly against the room—not an attack, but a reminder.
"So," Sukuna asked, eyes gleaming with sadistic curiosity, "who do you want me to kill?"
The words echoed throughout the room, plunging it once more into awkward silence, and Sukuna stood at the center of it all, head tilted slightly, a grin still lingering at the corner of his mouth as he waited.
No one answered him.
For a moment, he considered repeating the question—slowly this time, just to savor the discomfort—but before he could, Rias straightened her posture.
Her expression shifted.
"My problem," Rias said at last, voice steady despite the weight behind it, "is… complicated."
Sukuna snorted. "They usually are."
She didn't rise to the bait.
"It's not something that can be solved with brute force," she continued. "And it's not just my problem. It affects my future, my freedom, and my peerage."
That caught his attention.
Sukuna's grin thinned, eyes sharpening as he studied her properly—not as a devil noble, not as a peerage leader, but as an individual standing her ground.
He raised a brow. "Freedom, huh?"
Rias nodded once. "Yes."
He leaned back slightly, folding his arms. "So who's trying to enslave you?"
The question landed bluntly, embellished, and for just a fraction of a second, something flickered across Rias's face—surprise, followed by something darker.
"That's… not quite accurate," she said carefully. "It's a long story. One that began long before I was born."
Sukuna stared at her, silent.
In truth, he already knew not just from his previous life's knowledge, but Upper Management had ensured he had a deeper understanding beyond that. The pieces had fallen into place the moment he'd entered this world—the Gremory lineage, the political entanglements, the ancient traditions that masqueraded as honor while choking the life out of anyone born into them.
But knowing and appearing to know were very different things.
He hummed thoughtfully, tapping one clawless finger against his arm as though puzzling it out in real time.
"Ah," he said slowly, as if a revelation had just struck him. "Let me guess."
Rias stiffened.
Sukuna's lips curled. "Arranged marriage or something?"
The reaction was immediate.
Rias's eyes widened. Akeno froze mid-motion, her playful composure cracking just enough to reveal genuine shock beneath. Kiba sucked in a sharp breath, while even Koneko's impassive expression faltered, her ears flicking in disbelief.
"…How did you—" Rias started.
Sukuna waved a hand dismissively. "Devil nobility. Old bloodlines. Political leverage disguised as tradition. It's not exactly original."
He tilted his head, amused. "So let me guess—some high-ranking bastard decided your life was a bargaining chip."
The word bastard hung in the air.
Rias didn't answer immediately, but she didn't have to. The confirmation was written plainly across her face.
Sukuna let out a short laugh. "Figures."
Then his grin sharpened again, eyes gleaming with unmistakable interest.
"So, what?" He said casually, "you want me to kill this person or something?"
Rias reacted instantly.
"No!" she said, waving her hands almost frantically. "No—absolutely not!"
Sukuna's grin faltered.
"…Tch," he clicked his tongue, visibly disappointed. "That's boring."
Akeno laughed then, the sound light but edged with electricity. "Ara~," she teased, leaning slightly toward him. "You really are a naughty one, aren't you?"
He shot her a sideways glance. "Don't act like you wouldn't enjoy it."
She smiled wider. "I never said that."
Rias rubbed her temples, exhaling slowly. "This is exactly why I said it's complicated," she said. "It's not something that can be resolved with violence. At least—not yet."
Sukuna studied her, weighing the words.
"Yet," he repeated.
She met his gaze evenly. "Yet."
Another stretch of silence followed, but this time it felt different—less volatile, more… measured. The initial shock of his presence had settled into something like wary acceptance.
Rias straightened, gathering herself. "I think… that's enough for today," she said at last. "This isn't a conversation that should be rushed. I'll explain everything properly tomorrow."
Sukuna shrugged. "Fine by me."
She blinked, clearly expecting more resistance.
"Just don't get the wrong idea," he added, eyes narrowing slightly. "I joined your little group because I lost a fight. Not because I'm your tool."
Rias shook her head immediately. "I don't see my peerage that way. Any of them."
She gestured subtly toward Akeno, Kiba, Koneko. "They're my comrades. My family."
"…Family," Sukuna repeated.
The word tasted strange.
Then Rias added, "I've never seen them as just my servants or some kind of property."
The word servants scraped against him like a dull blade. Something dark flickered behind his eyes.
He didn't lash out or sneer. But the air around him tightened, cursed energy coiling instinctively before he forced it back down.
"…Good," he said at last. "Because that word doesn't sit well with me."
Rias inclined her head slightly. "I understand."
For a brief moment, something like mutual respect passed between them—not trust, not friendship, but acknowledgment. Sukuna turned toward the far wall, eyes drifting to where shadows pooled thickly in the corner of the room, stretching unnaturally despite the lamplight.
"Well," he said, rolling his shoulders, "I'll be back tomorrow."
Akeno blinked. "You're leaving?"
He smirked. "Oh what? You want to cuddle?"
"Fufufufufufu," She laughed. "I'm gonna have fun with you."
"Babe you couldn't handle it," he flirted back before raising his hand making the shadows on the walls move.
They peeled away from the surface like liquid ink, stretching outward, deepening into a vertical seam of darkness that swallowed the light around it. The temperature in the room dropped subtly as the portal stabilized, space folding inward upon itself.
Kiba took a step back. "That's… not teleportation magic."
"No," Sukuna agreed. "It's faster."
He glanced over his shoulder at them one last time, eyes gleaming faintly red—not threatening, just amused.
"Try not to miss me," he said, before stepping through.
The shadows closed around him soundlessly, swallowing his form whole before sealing shut with a faint ripple, as though nothing had ever disturbed the wall at all.
The Occult Research Club room was left in stunned silence.
Akeno was the first to exhale. "Well," she said lightly, though her eyes were still fixed on the spot where he'd vanished, "he certainly knows how to make an exit."
Kiba shook his head slowly. "President… Are you sure recruiting him was the right choice?"
Rias didn't answer right away. Her gaze lingered on the shadows, thoughtful, conflicted—and undeniably resolute.
"…No," she said finally. "But it was the only one I had."
o-O-o
A hundred miles away at the abandoned church on the edge of Kuoh Town, plots and plans were being discussed.
Fallen Angels gathered in the nave where pews had been pushed aside, their wings partially unfurled or hidden entirely depending on mood and rank. The atmosphere was tense, coiled tight like a drawn blade, a palpable hum of dark energy.
At the far end of the church, seated upon what had once been the altar, was their leader Eisheth. Her presence dominated the former holy place with no effort.
Her six black feathered wings folded neatly behind her back, feathers pristine and sharp, radiating a pressure that made even seasoned exorcists uneasy. Her posture was relaxed—one leg crossed over the other, elbow resting lightly against the arm of her ornate chair—but her eyes were anything but calm, burning like twin embers in the dim light.
Before her knelt a rogue exorcist, head bowed, shoulders tense. He swallowed before speaking, his voice echoing faintly in the hollow space, a nervous tremor in its depths.
"We've confirmed the identity of the one responsible for lady Raynare's death," he said, his gaze fixed on the grimy floor. "The pink-haired monster."
Eisheth's fingers, adorned in black latex gloves, stilled their idle tapping on the armrest.
"…Go on." Her voice was a silken whisper, yet it held the weight of command.
The exorcist hesitated only a fraction of a second, a bead of sweat tracing a path down his temple. "His name is Sukuna Doumon."
The name seemed to settle into the church like a curse, hanging heavy in the air.
"Doumon?" Eisheth repeated softly, a dangerous curiosity in her tone.
"Yes," the exorcist continued, rushing his words now. "An exiled member of the Doumon clan. Records describe him as… unstable. Exceptionally dangerous. He resurfaced recently and is currently enrolled as a student at Kuoh Academy."
A faint smile tugged at Eisheth's lips, a chilling, predatory curve.
"So," she said calmly, her voice laced with dark amusement, "the one who killed my sister walks openly among humans."
Her wings shifted slightly, feathers brushing against stone with a quiet, unsettling sound, like a whisper of death.
"Is he bound to one of the devils?" she asked, her eyes narrowing, a dangerous glint in their depths. "To one of their wretched peerages?"
The exorcist shook his head, a quick, almost frantic motion. "No. At least, not officially. Our sources confirm he operates independently."
Eisheth laughed. It was a soft sound, almost pleasant—utterly wrong in the dead silence of the church, a discordant note of malice.
"How generous of him," she murmured, her smile widening, revealing sharp, white teeth. "To make this simple."
She rose from the altar in one smooth motion, her dark robes rustling, and turned toward two figures lingering near the shadows, their forms indistinct in the gloom.
"Freed."
The silver-haired man snapped to attention instantly, a manic grin spreading across his face, eyes lighting up with insane excitement. "Yes, yes, yes! Finally—something interesting to do." He clutched his over sized sword, its blade glinting ominously.
"And Dohnaseek."
The massive Fallen Angel, his powerful frame casting a huge shadow, shrugged lazily, arms crossed, his expression bored, a mask of indifference. "You want him dead, I assume."
Eisheth's smile widened further, sharp and cruel, her eyes glinting. "Bring me his head."
Freed laughed, a high-pitched, cackling sound, clapping his hands together with glee. "Oh, this is going to be fun! A monster hunting trip!"
Dohnaseek sighed, a deep, rumbling sound of annoyance. "As long as he doesn't run. I hate chasing."
As they turned to leave, their shadows stretching long and distorted, a small figure in the corner of the church stiffened.
Asia Argento had been kneeling quietly near a broken pew, hands clasped tightly together, her head bowed in prayer. She hadn't been part of the conversation, and wasn't meant to be. She was merely there, as she always was, silent and overlooked, almost a ghost among the church's shadows.
But the name had reached her ears, piercing the veil of her silent prayers. Sukuna. Her breath was a sharp, painful gasp.
Her mind flashed back to a quiet afternoon not long ago—how she'd been lost, frightened, unsure where she was going. How a strange boy with pink hair had stopped, listened, and gently guided her toward the church without asking for anything in return. How his smile had been sharp, but his voice steady, a surprising anchor in her fear.
"You'll be alright. Just keep walking straight." Her fingers trembled as she remembered his words, her rosary beads cold against her skin.
Asia lowered her head further, lips moving silently as she prayed, a desperate plea to a God who often seemed distant. She didn't know how to fight, or how to warn him. She didn't even know where he truly stood in this war of angels and devils, a pawn in a game far beyond her understanding.
All she could do was hope.
Above her, Eisheth's laughter echoed faintly through the ruined church as the Fallen Angel and deranged priest departed, their powerful wings stirring the cold air, carrying the promise of violence.The hunt had begun, and Sukuna Doumon had no idea what storm was heading his way.
A/N: If you like this story and what to read ahead chapters 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25 and 26 are already available for Patrons.
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