I Took A Succubus's First Time-Chapter 242: Eat Me Up

Chapter 242: Eat Me Up

The sun had already begun its descent, casting long amber shadows across the pavement as the last slivers of daylight clung to the sky.

The air was warm with the fading heat of the day, and the school grounds, once filled with the vibrant noise of students, were now steadily emptying.

The soft murmurs of chatter faded into the distance as the crowd dispersed, leaving behind only the occasional echo of laughter and footsteps.

Kouhei and Yui walked side by side down the front steps of the school, her body practically glued to his arm.

Her fingers gently laced around his, and her soft breasts pressed snugly against him with every step they took, the subtle bounce of her chest impossible to ignore.

He didn’t know exactly when this started—when she began clinging to him like this, making his arm her personal pillow.

But over time, it became so natural and so frequent, that he’d stopped noticing.

At least, not in a way that flustered him anymore.

It felt oddly familiar. It was almost like a routine now. Like this wasn’t the first time—like other girls had done the same, many times before. But no matter how hard he tried to recall who they were, only Yui and Hiyori clearly came to mind.

“Senpai! Let’s go to karaoke today!” Yui said suddenly, her voice bright and energetic as she looked up at him, eyes sparkling with delight. “Let’s sing our hearts out!”

Whatever weight had been clinging to Kouhei’s chest just moments before seemed to dissipate.

Her voice had that effect on him sometimes. It was like warm sunlight breaking through a cloudy sky.

“…Alright,” he replied after a beat, giving her a light smile. “But I’m not singing. I’d probably just end up destroying your eardrums if I did. I’ll cheer you on, though.”

“Boo~!” Yui pouted exaggeratedly, puffing out her cheeks in mock disapproval. “Karaoke’s for singing, not for cheering! You can’t be such a party pooper, senpai! Oh, I know!” Her face lit up as if struck by sudden inspiration. “You should sing that anime opening you like! I’ve caught you listening to it!”

“…Wait, really?” Kouhei blinked, caught off guard. “I thought I had earphones on when I listened to those.”

“Yeah, you did,” she said with a mischievous glint in her eye. “But you blasted the volume so high I could hear it through your earbuds. It was booming, senpai.”

She grinned, clearly teasing, but there was something charming about the way she did it. “So? What do you think? Bet it’s on the karaoke list. You can totally sing it!”

“Uh… I guess so…” Kouhei mumbled, scratching his cheek awkwardly while giving her a sheepish, crooked smile.

He couldn’t really say no to her—not when she was this fired up.

Even if he didn’t know the first thing about singing in public. Even if his voice cracked and died trying. If she was this happy, he couldn’t bring himself to ruin it. The only thing left to do now… was to try.

Still, a dull weight lingered in the back of his mind, like a stubborn knot that refused to come undone.

Something didn’t feel right.

The world around him—it looked the same and it sounded the same—but there were these small, nearly invisible cracks.

He couldn’t put his finger on it, but they were there.

Whispers in the edges of his vision.

Fleeting sensations that something—anything—was off.

That crying voice…

Where had it come from?

Whose voice was it?

Why had it left such a sharp ache in his chest?

Why did it feel so personal, like it had pierced straight into the core of his being?

It was faint, like an old memory washed away by time, but it still echoed in his head.

A cry full of sorrow, of pain, of something irreversibly lost.

And when he tried to recall the person behind that voice—tried to imagine her face—his mind blanked completely.

“Kouhei-senpai?” Yui’s voice brought him back, soft and full of concern. She tugged gently at his sleeve, her brows furrowing slightly. “Are you okay? You’ve been spacing out.”

“…I’m fine. Really,” Kouhei replied, offering her a tired smile. “Probably just from staying up too late last night. Didn’t get much sleep.”

Yui gave him a dramatic sigh, as if she’d heard this one too many times. “And this is why I keep telling you not to sleep so late! It’s messing with your brain. You’ll turn into a zombie before you know it.”

She crossed her arms, then softened her expression. “Well… I guess we’ll have to cancel karaoke then. I don’t want my boyfriend getting any more exhausted than he already is,” she added with a warm, understanding smile that reached her eyes.

She didn’t seem disappointed in the slightest.

In fact, she looked more relieved knowing he might get some rest.

“We’ll just reschedule karaoke for another time.”

“No, it’s fine,” Kouhei shook his head. “It’s not that bad. Honestly, I didn’t even stay up that late. I guess… it’s not about being tired. It’s more like… something’s just been on my mind lately.”

Yui tilted her head again, her gaze sharpening just a bit. “Something on your mind?”

“Yeah…” Kouhei’s voice trailed off for a moment. “It’s weird, but I feel like… like I’m missing something. Not something physical, just… this gnawing sense of absence. Like there’s a piece of me that’s supposed to be here, but it’s not.”

“Hm?” Yui leaned in a little closer. “And what exactly are you missing?”

“…I don’t know.” He looked down, his expression blank but troubled. “I can’t remember.”

The feeling lingered. Like walking through fog and seeing shapes you almost recognize but can’t quite reach.

Yui stared at him for a few seconds, then her lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Maybe you just forgot something important… like saving your game point?”

Kouhei blinked. “Huh?”

She laughed. “Don’t tell me you forgot again! I distinctly remember you whining about losing all your progress because you didn’t save.”

“…Ah!”

The realization hit him like a brick to the head.

He didn’t save.

Last night. He played for hours… and forgot to save.

“Ugh…”

He clutched his forehead, a groan escaping from deep within his soul.

The memory of wasted hours of gameplay burned a hole through his mood.

“Fuhahahahaha!” Yui burst into laughter, holding her stomach. She looked like she was having the time of her life watching him suffer. “I knew it! Your face just screamed ‘I fucked up.'”

Despite the sting, Kouhei found himself smiling.

Watching her laugh so wholeheartedly made the frustration feel worth it. Just being with her—like this—was enough to warm his chest.

After a while, they finally arrived at one of the nearby karaoke spots.

The neon sign buzzed faintly overhead, and after paying for a private room, the two stepped inside.

The room was dimly lit with colored lights slowly cycling through hues of blue and purple.

Yui wasted no time as she practically bounced to the song list, picked something upbeat, and snatched the microphone like a performer about to go on stage.

Kouhei sat back on the couch, still lost in his thoughts… but even now, something inside him remained unsettled.

Something was missing.

And he didn’t know what.

Yui sang her heart out with the kind of reckless abandon that made the room feel just a little more alive.

Her voice—well, it was slightly off-key, trailing just outside the proper notes more often than not—but there was something oddly charming about the way she belted out the lyrics with everything she had.

Her singing wasn’t particularly good.

Not in a technical sense. frёewebηovel.cѳm

Her pitch wavered, her timing was a bit off, and she definitely wasn’t hitting those high notes the way the original artist did.

Still, she had one thing going for her.

And it was her energy.

She moved to the rhythm like she was on a stage, swinging her arms, tapping her feet, and letting her emotions pour out.

And even then, even with all that passion, it… still wasn’t that great.

But at the same time, it wasn’t that bad either.

It was hard to call it a mediocre performance—it didn’t feel lifeless or dull.

If anything, it was too full of life to be called mediocre. Below average, maybe. Yeah, that felt closer to the mark.

As the final note trailed off and the screen faded, Yui panted heavily, sweat glistening faintly on her forehead.

Her shoulders rose and fell as she caught her breath, collapsing into the chair like she’d just finished a marathon.

“Haah…! That really hits the spot!” she exhaled with a tired but satisfied grin.

She looked exhausted, her body visibly spent from the sheer effort she’d thrown into the performance. Even with her flushed cheeks and wild breathing, there was something adorable about how proudly she sat there.

“You’re good,” Kouhei said, his voice steady despite knowing it was a white lie.

Even though she’d been clearly off-tune, he still gave her the praise. Not because he had to—but because she looked like she deserved it for the effort alone.

“Hehehe… Thank you,” Yui replied, blushing with a bit of embarrassment, but her eyes sparkled with joy.

Then, with a teasing glint in her gaze, she leaned forward and brought the mic close to him—almost too close.

“Now then… how about you perform as well?”

“I’m good, really,” Kouhei said, waving it off instinctively.

“Come on, senpai! Just one—just one song and I’ll be satisfied!” Yui pleaded, puffing her cheeks in a fake pout.

She edged in closer, her face now only inches away from his.

The warmth of her breath brushed against his skin, and her sweet, lingering scent made it hard to think clearly. Her lips curved into a playful smile, and her eyes locked with his in that way that always made his heart beat a little faster.

At that point, there really wasn’t much he could say.

“…Fine.” He sighed and slowly reached out to grab the mic from her hands.

Time blurred after that—just the two of them singing, laughing between lyrics, letting their guards down inside the small room lit by glowing LED lights.

The screen flickered with animated backgrounds, and their voices—his shy and stiff, hers bold and messy—collided in a chaotic harmony.

But then… somewhere along the way…

Kouhei found himself on top of Yui.

The moment was disorienting.

His body hovering above hers, heart pounding in his ears.

Her clothes had already been unbuttoned at some point, her blouse parting just enough to reveal the soft curve of her bra peeking through the fabric.

Her skin flushed, her breath shallow, her eyes half-lidded but filled with emotion.

“G-Go on… Eat me up, senpai…”