Disclaimer - I don't own any of the characters appearing in High School DXD or the Anime or the manga whatsoever.
Kuoh, Japan
–Motohama Kenji–
As he looked at the blood on the ground and the knife he’d just pulled out of his hand, he realised something.
He was going to get along with Akeno just fine.
Atleast this confirmed one thing for him. The pain was far less than he had expected it to be. In fact, he’d cringed more about the sound the stabbing process made rather than the actual pain. As it turns out, hardened skin and muscles created a far louder sound than he expected when he stabbed it with a kitchen knife. Maybe it would be smooth if he used a far sharper knife? But this was all he had on hand, which should serve as a good starting practice.
The closest threat to his safety was the Fallen and their weapons of choice, which were mostly Light spears. He had no idea how he could adapt to supernatural light, standing under a giant magnifying glass? But adapting to cutting damage should give him a leg up. The other part was their flight and their superhuman strength, though they did not use all that much.
The Fallen he was going to encounter in this town were not that magically inclined, but he had to keep that in mind because all supernatural beings in the upper echelons could cast a variety of magic, including mind magic, which was something he was probably most vulnerable to right now.
Hell, he couldn’t even adapt mid fight as he needed some time, but more importantly, he needed food to properly strengthen his body. It would have been so great if he could just absorb the ambient energy or something, and he had theories on how he could go on achieving that, but they were just that, theories, for now.
He could figure out how to become a Human magician later on, if he had the aptitude for it anyway. If he could recall, Human Magic was very rigid and structured, requiring memorisation and math, two things he was not very good at, but let’s see. Maybe his power could give him something?
Shaking his head, he looked down as the itching feeling was gone, and with it, came the subtle feeling of hunger. His body had already digested the calorie dense takeout food, which meant his plans of adapting to a few other things was bust. Still, he probably had enough in his tank for one adaptation, or so he hoped.
He’d sneaked the ice cream from the kitchen, which was currently in the process of melting in his bedroom. Hopefully, those calories should be enough.
Shaking his head, he cleaned the knife, made sure there was no trace of the fact that he’d just bled out in his bathroom, and got out of the bathroom, hesitating only for a moment before he grabbed the transparent plastic bag.
Standing in front of the mirror, he looked at himself before squaring his body and putting the plastic body on his face. One of his worst fears, inflicted on himself. He dismissed the fear and just got to it.
Pulling the bag behind himself, he immediately felt the bag do its work. It stuck to his airways, his nose, and his mouth. The sensation of being denied air was unpleasant, as panic slowly set in. More than once, his hand relaxed behind him, only for him to tighten the bag around his face.
The fear of being suffocated was something that most humans shared. It was encoded in their very DNA, and for some, just the prospect of that happening was enough to give them nightmares. To be forced to experience that was a form of torture, and he was doing that to himself.
All so that no one could do that to him in the future. It was very easy to kill most humans, and suffocation was just one of them. All he had to do was plug all the weaknesses of the human form so he could move about freely in the supernatural world, especially since he intended to do that without any backing from a major organisation.
That was a rather tall task, and for that, he couldn't have an easily exploitable weakness such as the need to breathe regularly. He didn’t know how his power would answer this.
Would he not need the ability to breathe entirely? Would it start taking in air from other parts of his body? Would it make the whole process far more efficient than before, reducing the need for air but not outright eliminating it?
All he knew was that panic was starting to set in. He was trying to breathe but no air came, making his mind run in circles around itself, but he held firm. His hand was clutched tightly around the bag, stubbornly refusing to give in to the fear signals that his brain was desperately sending out.
The image of him being choked out by a stronger foe, deprived of air, and fuel to adapt while he had to see his mother being hurt just motivated him as he made sure he held onto the bag. The bag was strong, but he was sure that he’d torn through it. The only reason it was still airtight was because of his effort to take in air, pulling the bag against his face and nose.
He looked at the phone placed near the sink, showing the time, and his eyes widened slightly as he saw that it had been over three minutes since he started, his face set in a grin as he realised that it was working.
Either his experiments in the forest had changed his body or his body was adapting to it in real time. The itch was absent, but that was only for external injuries. He didn't know what he would feel when his body would adapt in an entirely new way.
As he felt his vision darken at the edges, he realised that his very first adaptation. The one that expanded his mind, so to speak, to allow the mixture of two different souls, was probably the only reason he was even able to think properly, without his mind shutting down due to all the panic hormones his brain was sending to his nervous system.
His grip remained tight as he slid down, looking at the cabinet below the sink, positioning himself in a way that the bag would loosen when his hand went slack. Hopefully, he wasn’t so stupid as to accidentally almost kill himself twice in the same day, all so he could become strong enough to live on his own terms.
Man, that would be such a big…ir…ony…
__-xx__
GASP!
He awoke with a gasp, his vision blurry. He desperately tore the remnants of the plastic bag on his face, as he was assaulted by the remnants of the panic he felt before passing out, as well as the intense hunger. He stumbled out of the bathroom, looked at the time, and sighed in relief that it wasn’t too late.
Not even breaking stride, he got the tub of ice cream open clumsily, and forgot all about the spoon, using his hand to scoop the now cold liquid and drank it straight, uncaring of the fact that half of it slipped his fingers and fell on the floor.
After that, he just put the tub to his mouth and began taking in mouthfuls of the cold liquid, the sugar helping immensely, helping him think straight immediately. He took in a few more gulps before setting down the tub on his desk.
Wiping his chin, he marched back to the bathroom and checked his phone.
It had been two hours since he started it. He didn't know how long he’d sat on the floor of his bathroom before he’d blacked out, but hopefully, all of this was worth it.
Despite his recent actions, he was not a masochist. Which further reinforced his decision to subject his body to every pain and damage under the sun. Counterintuitive, yes, but he would much rather experience that pain under controlled conditions, willingly, rather than be blindsided by something in the middle of a fight with someone from the supernatural world.
Shaking his side, he ignored his trembling hand as he relived the experience of being suffocated. Splashing some cold water on his face helped a bit, but ultimately, he had neither the mental fortitude nor the food to test if he’d successfully adapted to being suffocated.
Shaking his head, he stashed everything under his bed, putting the lighter test for later, and just jumped into his bed.
He just wanted to sleep. Today had been…a lot.
___xx__
His eyes snapped open as he turned on the spot and saw that it was 6 in the morning, which meant he’d slept for only two hours before his body was fully rested. An advantage certainly, and yet, he would miss having the ability to just laze around his bed.
Getting up, he got ready, began doing the homework that was assigned to them yesterday. Despite his self-deprecating thoughts, he was above average in studies, as one had to be to be admitted into Kuoh, without the will of the Devil heiresses.
They could certainly admit even a room temperature IQ person if they so wished, but from his memories, he knew he’d worked quite hard to get into the High School that had a widely skewed boy to girl ratio.
His past self had his priorities set, it would seem.
As was habitual, he put on his glasses and blinked as his eyes adapted to the change in eye filter, as he got to work.
By the time the sun rose, he was done with half his work. Taking a break, his mind went to the two most important questions currently plaguing his mind.
Where and How?
Where was he going to train after the forest became too risky? And how was he going to continue to supply himself with calories? If just mundane adaptation was so expensive in terms of calories, how would he adapt to something as esoteric as magic, or God forbid, the Power of Destruction?
He did not have an answer immediately, but for now, the forest and its trees should suffice.