Chapter 21: The Corsair of Class D and the Limits of Human Sanity
[A/N: Major Updates (Blame My GF!)
Yo, Author and GF here dropping in with a big announcement—and before you say anything, she literally forced me to make this call!
It's officially locked in: This fic is now 18+ and will feature a Harem.
Before you guys accuse me of being down-bad, let the record show that my GF is ten times hornier than I am. I watched maybe five episodes of High School DxD years ago and called it a day. She has binged every single season, every episode, and she was the one demanding we turn this into a future DxD crossover! My job is just crafting the chaotic world-building (most of which she has no clue about while she sits there writing Suzu).
A few ground rules for how this is going to go down:
It's a SMALL, tightly controlled harem. Especially during the Classroom of the Elite phase.
Suzu is main girl #1. Sunny is already locked in with her, period.
Chemistry over quantity. We are NOT throwing random girls at Sunny just for the sake of numbers. If a character doesn't have genuine, hilarious, or organic chemistry with him, she's not making the cut.
Regarding the 18+ rating: Again, total executive decision from the GF. Writing explicit, heavy-spicy scenes isn't a problem on my end, but working around AI editor filters for the ultra-erotic chapters might take some clever maneuvering on our part behind the scenes. We'll figure out a system to keep the spicy chapters flowing without getting censored!
Thanks for reading, drop your thoughts, and stay tuned—the real chaos is just getting started!]
(Kikyo POV)
I hate this school.
I hate the humidity, I hate the smell of chlorine, I hate the fake social hierarchy, and above all else, I hate the fact that I have to spend my afternoon standing poolside in a cute, pastel-colored bikini while pretending that every single idiot in Class D isn't currently staring at me like I'm a prize on a game show.
My smile, of course, was a flawless 10 out of 10. Bubbly, radiant, and radiating pure angel energy. On the outside, I was the sweet, approachable Kikyo Kushida, cheering for everyone and lighting up the atmosphere.
On the inside? I was mentally constructing a woodchipper big enough to fit half the first-year hallway.
I was currently adjusting my swimsuit strap near the shallow end when I noticed Horikita Suzune standing a few feet away. She was wearing a sleek, navy-blue school swimsuit, looking as cold, distant, and arrogantly composed as ever. I was just about to walk over and hit her with my usual ultra-bright "Hi, Horikita-san~!" routine when space and time decided to bend itself in half.
Out of nowhere—and I mean literally out of thin air, without a single footstep sounding on the wet concrete—Sunny materialized directly behind her.
I didn't even see him approach. One second the space behind Horikita was empty; the next, his silver hair was catching the sunlight.
He leaned down near her ear, pulled his shoulders back, and rasped in a booming, ridiculous pirate accent:
"Ahoy, matey! show me your booty!"
Before Horikita could even turn her head, Sunny reached out, grabbed a handful of her rear, gave it a light, firm squeeze, and then casually patted it like he was checking the air pressure on a tire.
My jaw almost detached itself from my face.
I froze. My bubbly smile turned into a paralyzed twitch. WHAT IS HE DOING?! IN BROAD DAYLIGHT?! IN FRONT OF GOD AND THE FACULTY?!
I watched Horikita's posture go rigid as a steel pipe. I could practically see the murderous dark aura exploding off her back. I could tell what she was thinking just from the twitch in her shoulder: I am going to slaughter this man where he stands. I am going to bury him under the gym floor. But at least no one saw us.
She took a deep breath, forced her composure back into place, and pretended nothing had happened, operating under the blissful delusion that they were completely alone.
Except they weren't.
I saw it. I saw every single frame of it!
A surge of absolute, dark, intoxicating euphoria rushed through my veins. BLACKMAIL! I hit the motherlode! The proud, untouchable, self-righteous Ice Queen of Class D just got her rear fondled by the resident class lunatic in public, and she didn't even slap him! I had them! I could ruin her, leverage him, burn their little power dynamic to the ground—
SZZZZZT.
Before I could even complete the thought, a shock of pure, sub-zero cold struck the right side of my neck.
"EEP!" I squeaked, jumping three feet in the air and slapping a hand over my throat.
Sunny was standing right behind me.
I don't know when he moved. I don't know how he moved. But he was leaning over my shoulder, pressing an ice-cold, sweating can of matcha green tea against my skin with a lazy, unbothered smirk on his stupid face.
"Stay hydrated, Kushida," he chirped, tossing the cold can into my hands. "Heatstroke is bad for the complexion."
I stood there, clutching the freezing can, my heart hammering against my ribs while my brain did a hard reboot.
Look at his eyes. Look at that complete, total lack of fear.
A terrifying realization hit me like a bucket of ice water:
First, Horikita wasn't just taking it—she was the idiot's girlfriend. She was actually tolerating this absolute menace because she was already in too deep.
Second, and far more importantly... blackmail doesn't work on a man who has zero social reputation to lose.
Sunny didn't care! He literally did not give a single damn about school rules, public opinion, or basic human decency! If I tried to blackmail him with that footage, he'd probably ask me to send him a high-definition copy so he could set it as his phone wallpaper! You can't threaten a man who lives in a constant state of unhinged anarchy!
My villainous master plan dissolved into dust in under three seconds.
Taking a deep, agonizing breath to keep my blood pressure from blowing out my eardrums, I forced my signature sweet smile back onto my face. I tilted my head, struck a cute, modest pose in my bikini, and looked up at him.
"Sunny-kun~!" I purred, my voice dripping with sugary warmth. "You really shouldn't sneak up on girls like that! But... how do I look in this swimsuit?"
Please, I prayed internally, staring into his bright blue eyes with pure, silent hatred. Please just say a normal, polite word. Just say 'It looks nice, Kushida-san' like a normal human boy. Please do not give me an aneurysm before noon. I am begging you.
Sunny leaned back, squinting at me like he was appraising a used car. His eyes dropped down to my chest for a full, unashamed second, took in the scenery, and then snapped back to my face with a playful grin.
"11 out of 10," he announced casually. "You're hot."
A massive wave of relief washed over me.
Okay. Okay! Even though he took a quick glance at my chest, his answer was... totally normal! It was a completely standard, straightforward answer that a normal teenage guy would give! My blood pressure actually stabilized for a fraction of a second.
Horikita stepped up beside us, resting a hand on her hip while casting a flat, exhausted look at Sunny. "I didn't realize you were capable of being even slightly above a menace, Sunny."
I turned toward Horikita, keeping my voice light and bubbly while cursing him into the sun in my head. "Oh, come on, Horikita-san! He's really not that bad! You two are just so cute together~!"
I'm going to ruin his reputation in front of her, I thought viciously. I'm going to make sure she realizes what a nightmare he is so she dumps his crazy ass and leaves him isolated—
Wait.
I blinked. I looked to my left.
"Um... Horikita-san?" I asked, looking around the empty concrete deck. "Where did Sunny-kun go?"
Horikita paused, looking to her right. "He was standing right beside us a minute ago."
He had vanished again. No splash, no footsteps, no sound. Just gone.
Before we could investigate the sudden disappearance of Class D's resident phantom, Chabashira-sensei stepped up to the edge of the pool with a clipboard and a metal whistle around her neck.
"Alright, settle down," Chabashira's sharp voice echoed across the facility. "We are starting the boys' 50-meter freestyle trial. The student who takes first place in this heat will receive a bonus of 5,000 personal points."
The boys immediately went wild.
Down at the starting blocks, a group of them were already hyping each other up. Ken Sudō was aggressively slapping his own shoulders, shouting about his athletic superiority, while the rest of the idiot trio—Ike and Yamauchi—were bragging loudly about their supposed "secret swimming techniques."
Yamauchi, standing in his red trunks, suddenly turned his head and locked eyes with me.
He gave me a weird, greasy, "dreamy" look, biting his lower lip and puffing out his weak little chest as if he were a prince preparing to dive into battle for my honor.
EWWWWWWWWWWWW!
Every single hair on my body stood on end. My skin crawled so hard I felt like a hundred fat, slimy ants were running up and down my spine. The sheer disgust that washed over me almost made me vomit right there on the tiles. I hate his face. I hate his posture. I hate his existence.
Naturally, I beamed at him, waved my hand enthusiastically, and yelled, "Good luck, Yamauchi-kun~! Fight oh~!"
I hope you cramp up in the first three meters and drown in the pool, you disgusting little rat, I added internally, keeping the golden smile firmly locked in place.
I glanced around the starting line again. Sudō, Ike, Yamauchi, Ayanokōji, Kōenji...
Sunny wasn't among them.
"Line up!" Chabashira called out, raising her whistle to her lips.
The boys stepped onto the blocks. Ayanokōji looked like a wooden plank waiting to fall into the water, while Kōenji was busy striking a bodybuilder pose for his own reflection in the water.
FWWWWWWWWWWIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!
The whistle blew.
SPLASH!
The entry was instantaneous. Sudō hit the water hard, throwing up massive plumes of spray, but two bodies completely separated themselves from the pack within the first five meters.
Ayanokōji and Kōenji.
It was terrifying. Ayanokōji was moving through the water with the quiet, unnatural, mechanical precision of a submarine torpedo—no wasted motion, just pure, terrifying speed. Meanwhile, Kōenji was churning the lane like a majestic, narcissistic jet-ski, his raw power keeping him neck-and-neck with Ayanokōji.
They reached the halfway mark in seconds, leaving Yamauchi and Ike choking on their wake.
And then, right in the dead center of the pool—between Ayanokōji's and Kōenji's lanes—the water erupted.
SPLAAAAASH!
Two pale hands burst out from the depths of the pool like a sea monster breaking the surface.
From between their backs, a figure rose up into the air, riding the crest of their wake like he was standing on the deck of a galleon.
It was Sunny.
He wasn't in swim trunks. He was wearing a full, screen-accurate, heavy leather Jack Sparrow pirate costume—tattered brown trench coat, tricorn hat, leather boots, dreadlocked wig, and a compass swaying from his belt.
He had his boots balanced right on the small of Ayanokōji's and Kōenji's backs, riding them like a pair of dual-engine outboard motors!
"ARRRRR!" Sunny roared at the top of his lungs, pointing a plastic cutlass toward the finish line. "FULL SPEED AHEAD, YE SCURVY DOGS! THE BLACK PEARL WAITS FOR NO MAN!"
I stood there, my mouth hanging open so wide I thought my jaw was going to snap.
WHAT IS HAPPENING?!
Ayanokōji didn't even stop. His deadpan face remained entirely blank underwater as he kept stroking at high speeds, seemingly having accepted his fate as a human jet-ski for a lunatic. Kōenji, refusing to lose a single inch of progress to Ayanokōji, simply flexed his back muscles harder, laughing boisterously as he carried the extra weight of a fully dressed Somali corsair across the water!
The two of them touched the finish wall at the exact same microsecond, carrying Captain Sunny Sparrow across the line while the rest of the class was still struggling in the middle of the pool.
Sunny leaped off their backs, landed on the concrete deck with a wet CLACK of his leather boots, and executed a flawless, stumbling Jack Sparrow bow to the horrified crowd.
"Ah," Sunny beamed, tipping his dripping tricorn hat toward Chabashira, "but you will always remember this as the day that you almost caught Captain Sunny Sparrow!"
Chabashira dropped her whistle. It swung uselessly against her chest. She stared at him with the eyes of a woman who was questioning every career choice that had brought her to this institution.
Beside me, Horikita just closed her eyes and let out a long, shuddering breath of pure, defeat-filled resignation.
I stood frozen by the edge of the water, my mind completely fractured, trying to process the absolute madness I had just witnessed.
Should I be terrified by the fact that Ayanokōji can swim like a military-grade weapon?
Should I be awestruck that Kōenji carried a grown man in heavy leather while maintaining a record pace?
Or should I lose my mind over the fact that Sunny somehow smuggled a three-piece Victorian pirate costume into an underground school pool, hid underwater for five minutes, and hijacked the two strongest guys in Class D without breaking a sweat?!
I looked at Sunny, who was currently wringing out his wet leather coat while offering Ayanokōji a pouch of plastic gold coins.
I hate this school. I hate Class D.
And I am going to need a very, very strong drink.