I Took A Succubus's First Time
Chapter 251 - 251: Hellooo~

Hina stepped into the living room, her footsteps soft yet echoing like whispers in a tomb.

Behind her, the other members of the Yuuna Faction followed in silence, their presence heavy with the weight of grief.

The group was gathered, or rather, what remained of them—some members were still absent.

Those present turned their eyes toward Hina, puzzled expressions flickering across their pale, grief-stricken faces. None of them had expected her to call a meeting, not in the state they were in.

The air felt cold, even though the room was warm.

It was the kind of chill that came from mourning.

Signs of deep emotional ruin clung to all of them like a second skin.

Yuuna sat at the far end of the room, her eyes red and puffy, her lips quivering as if she'd been on the verge of sobbing for hours—perhaps even days. Her cheeks were streaked with the trails of dried tears that hadn't stopped flowing.

Nagisa looked like a ghost. Her eyes were rimmed with dark, hollow bags, making it seem like she hadn't slept in ages. Her posture was slumped with her energy drained.

Misuzu… she looked like someone who had lost the will to breathe. Her gaze was vacant, unfocused, like she wasn't truly present in the room at all.

And Hina? She was no different.

Her eyes were glassy, her hands trembling slightly, as if barely holding herself together. The pain was there and it was etched into every inch of her.

The death of Kouhei had ravaged them all.

It had torn through their hearts like a violent storm, leaving nothing but ruins behind.

Yet, inexplicably, on Hina's face… there was something else.

Amidst the sorrow etched into her features, there was a faint glimmer. It was an expression that stood out like a flicker of candlelight in pitch-black darkness.

Hope.

It wasn't bright. It wasn't confident.

But it was there.

Not because she had miraculously healed, or because she had overcome the crushing grief.

No—everyone in the room knew healing was impossible so soon. The wounds were far too fresh.

But something about her had changed.

"...What do you want to talk about, Hina?" Yuuna asked softly.

Her voice cracked, dry from crying too much. But she still managed to speak first, holding on to her duty as the faction's leader even in her lowest state.

Hina lifted her eyes to meet hers, and then slowly turned to the others, meeting each person's gaze with her own. Her throat tightened, but she forced the words out.

"I know this sounds sudden, but… I believe Kouhei isn't dead yet."

The room went still.

So quiet, you could hear the ticking of the clock on the wall. And in that silence, it was Nagisa who moved.

"...Are you serious right now, Hina?" she muttered, her voice low—almost inaudible.

Her bangs veiled her expression, casting a shadow over her eyes.

But her voice quivered.

"I'm very serious," Hina answered, her tone low but firm. "I… I felt his hand twitch. Around mine. It was real."

She didn't have evidence. No undeniable proof. No miracle to show.

Just a moment.

A fleeting sensation that his fingers had moved, wrapped in hers.

That was all she had.

Nagisa took a slow step forward, her fists clenched tightly at her sides.

Then—

SLAP!

The sharp sound cracked through the air like a gunshot.

Hina's head snapped to the side from the impact. A red mark quickly bloomed across her cheek.

Nagisa stood there, breathing hard, her chest rising and falling. Her lips curled in anger, her eyes brimming with unshed tears that trembled at the corners.

The slap had triggered something else too.

In that instant of skin-on-skin contact, a sharp jolt of ecstasy zipped through Nagisa's nerves like an electric shock, making her brain light up with involuntary pleasure.

Hina's succubus powers—dormant for so long, had awakened again.

Unconsciously and uncontrollably.

Her emotional instability had made her lose control of it. The power that once forced her into isolation was back. It had activated the moment she was struck.

Nagisa felt the pleasure ripple through her body. Her knees almost buckled from the rush of it—her brain nearly tricked into climaxing on the spot.

But she didn't flinch. She didn't gasp or shiver.

She fought it. She stood firm.

And then, she glared down at Hina with venom in her eyes.

"How fucking dare you say that when all hope's already gone, Hina," she said, her voice trembling with fury. "When we've already accepted the truth. When we know damn well there's nothing we can do. Kou-kun's gone! He's dead, Hina! You can't just come here with… some shallow, surface-level feeling and expect us to throw away everything we've already accepted just because you think he might be alive!"

Her voice rose, filled with pain, rage, and heartbreak.

It was the first time any of them had seen Nagisa this furious.

Hina touched her burning cheek, her fingers brushing the stinging skin.

"I'm not lying," she said, her voice hoarse. "I really felt his hand move. I swear… I'm not lying!"

But the desperation in her voice outweighed the hope. It cracked at the edges, full of sorrow, not certainty.

Yuuna shook her head slowly, her voice soft but tired.

"Believe me, Hina. I've seen more illusions of Kouhei than you can imagine. Every night I stayed locked in my room, crying my eyes out, I imagined him alive... with him smiling, touching me, speaking to me. But not once… not even once… did those illusions ever come true."

"But—!"

"Enough, Hina," Misuzu interrupted coldly. "I can't take any more lies. I've been lying to myself this whole time and telling myself he might come back and that maybe he'll wake up. But I can't do it anymore. I can't get my hopes up again only to have them shattered. Not again."

Their words were heavy, drenched in sorrow and resignation.

They had all fallen into a pit of despair so deep, they couldn't even see the sky anymore.

Kouhei wasn't just a friend or comrade.

He was the one they all loved.

To lose him was like losing their reason to keep going.

"We don't have a choice anymore," Yuuna said quietly. "We have to accept it. Kouhei's… already dead."

Those final words hit Hina like a blade through her chest.

Her knees buckled again, this time not from a slap—but from the truth.

She dropped to the floor, her body trembling as she stared blankly at the ground.

Her eyes glazed over, and then…

The tears began to fall again.

Thick, hot drops that splashed against the cold floor below her.

Maybe it really had been just an illusion.

Maybe that twitch was nothing more than a desperate hallucination created by a heart too broken to let go.

Maybe she was just fooling herself.

The room was quiet—except for the sound of her sobbing.

Loud. Harsh. And painful.

Her cries were not gentle or pretty. They were ugly, painful, and full of a grief that clawed at her chest.

She wailed until her voice went hoarse.

Because right now, Hina was grief itself—mourning in its most desperate, human form.

It was the first time any of them had ever seen Hina like this.

But none of them had the energy left to react.

Their hearts were heavy, worn from mourning, and their minds dulled by the persistent ache of loss.

And then, just as the silence began to settle again...

Knock. Knock.

A sharp knock echoed through the stillness like a slap to the face.

"Huh?"

Yumi blinked, snapping out of her daze. Her eyes moved to the front door, head tilting ever so slightly.

Who the hell would come at this hour?

Maybe it was just one of the other faction members.

Still, she moved toward the door cautiously and reached for the handle.

The door creaked open.

"Hellooo~"

A woman stood there.

She was dressed in the standard school uniform, but there was something completely off about her.

That smile—playful, almost mocking—sat far too comfortably on her lips.

Her presence alone felt like it didn't belong in this grief-stricken space.

A grin stretched across her face, glinting with mischievous amusement.

"Looks like you all are really drowning in despair, huh?" she said, her tone light—far too light for the tension that hung in the room like a thick fog.

Everyone froze, confused.

Who was this?

No… not everyone.

Yuuna's eyes widened as her breath hitched.

She knew.

It was Himeno Yui.

The transfer student.

"…Why are you here, Himeno-san?" Yuuna finally asked, her voice tight, uncertain.

Yui hummed, as if the question amused her. Her manicured finger tapped her chin slowly and thoughtfully.

"Why? Hmm…" she mused. "Because I'm the one you're looking for?"

She tilted her head, as if pondering whether that was the right answer.

Her smile didn't fade—in fact, it deepened, like she was savoring every second of this.

Yuuna's brows furrowed in confusion.

But then—suddenly—

"You're—!"

Before the sentence could even finish, the air in the room shifted.

With a flash of light and a gust of energy, two large wings unfurled from Yui's back with a dramatic flare.

The feathers shimmered a strange, corrupted hue—neither the pristine white of a celestial being nor the black of a demon. They were a grayish white, tinged with impurity, something that reeked of exile.

Wings of someone who had fallen.

"That's right," Yui said, grinning even wider, "I'm a fallen angel."

Her voice was coated in sweetness, but underneath it was something vile. It was a decay hidden behind a silk ribbon.

Everyone instinctively tensed, stepping forward.

Despite their exhaustion, their heartbreak, their broken spirits—they still prepared to fight.

Everyone except Hina, who remained frozen in place.

Yui's eyes scanned them, and then she laughed.

Not a chuckle.

A full, mocking laugh that echoed off the walls like it didn't belong in this world.

"Fuhahahahahaha! You lot are hilarious!" she cackled. "Just look at you! What do you think you can even do in this pitiful state?"

Her eyes gleamed with sadistic joy as she stepped inside, her wings slightly twitching behind her.

"You really plan on fighting me while you're all still steeped in your grief?" she taunted. "You've got no idea what you're up against."

Her voice dropped, becoming dark and sinister.

"Don't forget—I'm a fallen angel. I can twist that despair you're wallowing in and feed on it… use it against you. You really don't wanna see what that looks like… do you?"

Her smile never faded. If anything, it grew colder.