I Took A Succubus's First Time-Chapter 241: Contradictions And Distinctions

Chapter 241: Contradictions And Distinctions

There was no answer at the door.

Even after Yumi had knocked… three times, softly but firmly—

Not a single sound came from within.

No footsteps. No voices. Not even a creak of the floorboards to suggest someone was inside.

Just silence.

A heavy, suffocating silence that pressed down on her chest like a weight.

She exhaled slowly, her hand still hovering near the doorframe.

“…I’m coming in,” she murmured under her breath, half out of habit, half out of guilt.

Then, with a quiet creak, she opened the door and stepped inside.

The air was cold.

Not from any breeze or magic—but from grief.

The kind of cold that settled deep into your bones and made everything feel heavy.

Stale.

Lifeless.

When her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, she saw her.

Hina.

She was sitting by the edge of the bed, her back hunched slightly, her head lowered. She hadn’t moved a single inch since the last time Yumi had seen her.

And beside her… was him.

Kouhei.

His body lay still, resting atop a soft, cushioned bed that was surrounded by an overwhelming number of flowers—each one fresh, radiant, and carefully placed.

The entire setup looked like a sacred shrine.

A final resting place fashioned from care, love, and desperation.

Beneath Kouhei’s body, a faintly glowing magic circle pulsed in gentle waves. It was for preservation. A spell woven with intricate runes and mana, preventing his body from decaying.

It had been three days since he died.

Three long, agonizing days.

And Hina… hadn’t left his side once.

She didn’t eat. Didn’t sleep. Didn’t speak.

She just sat there, her slender fingers wrapped tightly around Kouhei’s hand, as if letting go would make it all real.

Yumi approached cautiously, not wanting to startle her.

“Hina…” she called softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m going to put it here, alright?”

She walked over to the small table by the wall and placed down the tray of food she had brought—still warm, the aroma of miso soup and grilled fish rising briefly into the air before fading into the cold stillness.

She had brought food every day.

Each time, she left it there.

Each time, she came back to find it untouched.

Not even a spoonful taken. Not a single bite.

Demons like them didn’t need to eat regularly to survive. Their bodies could endure days without nourishment.

But that didn’t mean they were immune to the consequences.

Starvation might not kill them right away—but it chipped away at them slowly and silently.

And Hina… she was fading.

No matter how many times Yumi talked to her, pleaded with her, tried to reach her—there was never a response.

She was locked in a different kind of room.

A room of mourning.

Nagisa was no better.

She had locked herself in her own space—slammed the door shut on the world and hadn’t opened it since.

She, too, was grieving.

Just like Hina.

Just like Yuuna.

But Nagisa’s grief took a different shape. It was closed off, solitary, and buried.

Yumi was starting to worry something had happened inside that room—something irreversible.

Aria, on the other hand, was consumed by fire.

Not sadness. Not despair.

Rage.

Unfiltered. Blinding. Dangerous.

The moment she saw Kouhei had died, she had screamed out—

“I’m going to kill them! Don’t stop me! I swear—I’m going to… I’m going to kill them!”

Her voice had cracked from the sheer fury, her eyes filled with murderous resolve.

She wasn’t thinking straight.

She didn’t care.

She wanted blood.

She wanted revenge.

Even if it meant getting herself killed by going after the entire Souichiro Faction, she would’ve done it—without hesitation.

It was all for him.

For Kouhei—the one she loved.

She had to be restrained, calmed down, soothed with reason and empathy.

Those with cooler heads managed to stop her before she did anything rash.

But her fire still burned beneath the surface, threatening to erupt at any moment.

Right now, Shizue was the only one standing between Aria and a reckless death.

Then there was Misuzu.

Her sorrow ran the deepest.

Her spirit looked like it had completely fractured—like something inside her had shattered and couldn’t be put back together.

“I don’t know what to do anymore… I feel really lost… Should I just follow him instead…?”

Her words were barely coherent.

She sounded like a shell—emptied of life, of will, of everything that once made her… her.

It wasn’t unexpected.

Out of everyone in Yuuna’s faction, Misuzu had always been the most fragile.

The most vulnerable.

She’d used modeling, acting, and performance to bury her instability, to keep herself from collapsing.

But now, all of that was gone.

Grief had stripped her bare.

And the thought of dying, of reuniting with Kouhei—even if only in fantasy—was far more appealing than waking up in a world where he no longer existed.

But she didn’t.

She held on.

Barely.

The only thing keeping her from taking that final step was the uncertainty.

Kouhei was human.

He would pass on to Valhalla.

Misuzu… she was a demon.

No one knew where demons went after death.

And the thought of being forever separated from him—unable to see him again even in death—was what kept her from letting go.

They were all drowning.

Yumi could feel it.

The suffocating weight of despair.

The way every room in the house seemed darker. The way every breath felt harder to take. The way the silence screamed louder than words ever could.

They had all given up.

Or were about to.

Her gaze returned to Hina.

The succubus who had always been cold.

Distant.

Unreachable.

A woman who had never shown emotions—because she’d never known them. Her heart had been a frozen wasteland for years, untouched by warmth or comfort.

But now…

Now, that emotionless woman was trembling.

Clutching Kouhei’s hand as if it were the last thing tethering her to this world.

“Hic…”

A small, broken sob escaped her lips.

The kind of sound that tore right through the silence.

A sound Yumi had never imagined hearing from someone like Hina.

It was raw. Fragile. Human, even.

Tears streamed down her face, silent and endless.

The cold succubus…

Was crying.

And Yumi—watching her like this—felt something twist in her chest.

Her throat tightened. Her eyes burned.

She wanted to cry too.

‘Okumura-san…’

Her thoughts trembled with emotion.

‘I wish you could see this. I wish you knew what you meant to them… how deeply you mattered… how much they loved you. Look at what’s become of them without you…’

***

Kouhei was staring out the classroom window.

Something felt off—so off, in fact, that it was like he was stuck in a dream. But no matter how many times he tried to wake himself up, he couldn’t.

No.

Wait—was this even a dream?

What was reality?

What was real?

He honestly couldn’t tell anymore.

There were so many contradictions, so many strange distinctions piling up… It was impossible not to notice them.

But then, all of a sudden, those contradictions would just disappear—as if the moment he became aware something was wrong, someone erased it. Like they didn’t want him to know.

Still…

The contradiction he was sensing right now—or feeling, rather—was so strong that even though his mind told him to ignore it, something deep inside was clinging on.

Something wasn’t right.

He felt like something important was missing.

“Kouhei-senpai~!!!”

A voice called out.

It was lunchtime already, and his girlfriend, Himeno Yui, had come to his classroom. She was holding two lunch boxes, one in each hand. Clearly, she’d packed food for both of them.

“Let’s go eat somewhere!” she said with a bright smile.

Even though Kouhei still felt disoriented, he pushed himself up from his chair and walked over to Yui.

Right now, even with a million questions swirling in his head, the only thing that seemed to matter was humoring his girlfriend.

But then…

“Hic…”

A quiet, broken sob.

“Kouhei…”

His name.

That voice—

It was familiar.

So familiar.

And the way it called to him… it was trembling, on the verge of breaking.

“Please, come back to me… Come back… I don’t think I can live without you… Please…”

He could hear her clearly.

But when he looked around, nobody else seemed to react.

No one glanced around. No one whispered or looked concerned.

He was the only one who had heard it.

“Kouhei-senpai?”

Yui’s voice snapped him out of it.

And as soon as she did—

The crying vanished.

“Huh?”

“Why are you spacing out, senpai? Did something happen?”

“Uh, no… It’s nothing,” Kouhei said, shaking his head slightly.

“Really? I bet it’s ’cause you stayed up way too late again. I keep telling you, this is what happens…” Yui pouted. “But whatever. Guess I’ll just take care of you with the food I made so you won’t be so tired anymore.”

Kouhei looked at his smiling girlfriend.

He smiled back. “Alright.”

And with that… even though his mind was still caught on that voice, he followed her anyway.