I Took A Succubus's First Time-Chapter 240: Disorientation

Chapter 240: Disorientation

In his memory… she wasn’t. He was sure of it.

She wasn’t in any committee—let alone the student council.

“Huh? What are you talking about, Okumura-kun?” Hiyori asked, cocking her head with a playful smile. “I’m the Student Council President.”

His breath hitched for a second.

“What? No way… I thought it was someone else…”

Yeah, that’s what he remembered—someone entirely different was supposed to be the one running the council.

And not just that—he had a clear image in his head.Hiyori wasn’t even a member.Not even close.

So then… what the hell was going on?

His heartbeat started to rise.

Who was the Student Council President…?

But then… like a fog clearing after a storm, the pieces suddenly clicked into place.

“Oh yeah…” he muttered under his breath, voice almost hollow. “How could I forget that?”

It hit him hard—like a memory snapping back into place after being buried.

That’s right.

Now he could see it perfectly.

Hiyori was the student council president.

The realization left him disoriented. How the hell had he forgotten something that important?

“You still half-asleep, senpai?” Yui asked, her voice cutting through his thoughts with a teasing tone.

“Probably still reeling from the lack of sleep,” Kouhei mumbled, rubbing the side of his head. That was the only excuse he could come up with in that moment.

Because honestly, anything else?

Would’ve made things even more complicated than they already were.

***

The three of them finally arrived at the school gates, just as the morning bell was beginning to echo across the campus.

Students had already gathered, scattered across the courtyard like drifting leaves in a breeze.

Laughing, talking, bustling in small groups as the school day stirred fully to life.

They had nearly been late.

“Thankfully, we managed to get here just in time,” Hiyori said, breathing out with a faint smile of relief.

“Now then, Ichinose-senpai,” Yui snapped, eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at their interlocked arms, “do you mind letting go of Kouhei-senpai’s arm? You’re kind of being a nuisance.”

“I don’t think I’m bothering anyone,” Hiyori replied smoothly, a touch of mischief dancing behind her calm smile. “Okumura-kun doesn’t seem to mind either.”

“That’s only because you’re forcing yourself on him.”

“That’s quite the rude assumption,” Hiyori said, voice soft yet firm. She was unfazed. She leaned in subtly, pushing her chest just a little more against Kouhei’s arm. “I’d never force anything on anyone… Especially not Okumura-kun. Isn’t that right, Okumura-kun?”

Kouhei gave a weak, wry smile, caught between the two of them as their words clashed like blades sheathed in sugar.

While their bickering simmered, the atmosphere around them began to shift.

Whispers rose from the students nearby, soft at first, then louder like the rustling of grass in the wind.

“Oh, look. It’s that Harem Boy again.”

“You’re right. He’s always stuck between those two girls. It’s kind of pathetic, actually.”

“Not even good-looking, either.”

“What’s the Student Council President even doing with him? I’d be a better choice, easily.”

“Yeah, no. You couldn’t even get her to glance your way.”

“Ouch, man… that’s cold.”

The muttering rolled through the crowd like distant thunder, thick with envy and disbelief.

It was hard for them to accept what they were seeing.

After all, Kouhei wasn’t just with Ichinose Hiyori—a beautiful young woman with the refined bearing of a noble, who just so happened to be the current student council president—but he was also in a relationship with Himeno Yui, the bubbly and adorable transfer student who had quickly captured the hearts of many.

For most of the guys watching, it was like a cruel joke.

Why him? Why not me? That thought seemed to hang in the air unspoken, yet screaming.

And yet, for some reason, Kouhei found himself feeling… nostalgic.

He didn’t know why.

This was the first time he’d been the center of such judgmental eyes, the first time he’d been called something like “Harem Boy.”

But the words clung to him.

They echoed somewhere deeper.

It felt familiar, like déjà vu—like he’d heard it before, not long ago. Maybe even just yesterday.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t place the memory.

It danced just out of reach, like mist slipping between his fingers.

Eventually, they reached the school buildings, the shadows of the tall structure casting long lines across the pavement.

Since Hiyori and Kouhei were classmates, they naturally walked together toward the second-year building.

Yui paused.

She clearly didn’t like letting them go off together, but she had no choice. Her steps were slow, her eyes lingering.

She glanced at Hiyori, her gaze sharp, almost like a warning.

Hiyori returned it with a soft, knowing smile.

She didn’t need words to push Yui’s buttons. She knew exactly where they were.

And with that, the trio finally parted—Kouhei and Hiyori heading to their classroom, while Yui made her way to the first-year wing.

The moment the two of them stepped into the second-year classroom… Kouhei felt it.

That strange sensation again.

It crept up his spine like a chill. A whisper with no sound.

Something was… off.

Not wrong. Just not right.

“What is it, Okumura-kun?” Hiyori asked, noticing the faint shift in his expression.

“Nothing,” Kouhei murmured, shaking his head, though the feeling clung to him like static.

He stepped inside.

Everything looked normal—the desks, the windows, the quiet chatter of students already seated. And yet, something gnawed at the edge of his thoughts.

He walked to his desk.

The chair felt familiar. Natural. But as he sat down, a sudden thought gripped him…

Who sits next to me?

There was a connection actually, and he was feeling something warm and something close.

Someone had always been there. Someone important.

But his mind was a blur.

The memory felt like a broken image, torn at the edges. Faded. Like a dream you forget seconds after waking.

And then—

Someone sat down beside him.

He turned, startled.

“Huh?”

It wasn’t the person he expected.

He didn’t even know who he had been expecting.

But this wasn’t them.

He knew it. Deep in his bones.

Whoever was sitting there now wasn’t the one who had been sitting there before.

But then—

“Oh… right…”

The realization hit like a soft echo.

Yes, that was right.

The person who always sat there… was Takahashi.

“What’re you staring at, otaku?”

“N-Nothing,” Kouhei muttered, blinking rapidly.

He felt dizzy, like the edges of his mind were folding in on themselves.

His memories—real ones—felt like they were being twisted. Rewritten.

And somewhere else, in a different classroom, Yui was already seated at her desk.

She smiled to herself, humming a cheery little tune, swinging her legs playfully beneath her seat.

Her head swayed side to side with the rhythm.

She seemed almost… satisfied.

***

Yuuna was curled up tightly on her bed, her body trembling beneath the thin sheets like a fragile creature trying to disappear into the fabric.

It had been three days since Kouhei had died.

His body was still lying motionless in his room—peacefully, almost unnervingly—resting on the bed as if he were merely asleep.

Yuuna knew what had to be done.

Kouhei deserved to be buried properly.

Someone should inform his aunt, let her know what had happened.

But the very thought of stepping into that room again filled her with dread so raw, it made her physically ill.

She was terrified—not just of seeing his cold body again, but of what it would mean to never be able to see him alive again.

That finality was unbearable.

Her legs wouldn’t move.

Her lips wouldn’t speak.

She couldn’t even try.

Yumi, who had quietly taken it upon herself to bring food to Yuuna’s room each day, stood in the doorway now.

She paused, eyes lingering on the girl’s small frame, curled in on itself like a dying flower.

The shadows beneath Yuuna’s eyes were dark and hollow, carved deep into her face by exhaustion and grief.

Her expression was blank, almost hollow—like her soul was somewhere far away.

Yumi didn’t speak.

There was nothing she could say.

She was the only one left here at the moment, the only one strong enough—or perhaps numb enough—to move around, to clean up, to make sure the others didn’t fall apart completely.

She had taken on the quiet, thankless task of caring for the rest of them—those who had been left in pieces after Kouhei’s death.

The others… they were preparing for war now.

But not like before.

This time, their grief had turned to rage.

This time, they would be the ones attacking.

It was obvious they were consumed by fury.

Kouhei’s death had shaken something in all of them, broken something vital.

They weren’t thinking clearly anymore. They just wanted to fight.

“I’m going to leave the food here,” Yumi said softly, placing the tray on the small table near the bed.

Yuuna didn’t even flinch.

Her eyes didn’t move.

She didn’t acknowledge her at all.

With a faint sigh, Yumi turned and left the room in silence.

As she closed the door gently behind her, she leaned against it for a moment—her back pressed to the wood, her hand resting over her chest.

“They must have really loved him…” she whispered to herself, voice trembling just slightly. “For them to be this devastated…”

And they had.

Yuuna, Hina, Nagisa, Misuzu… even Aria, who always seemed distant… every single one of them had been left shattered.

Yuuna hadn’t eaten in days.

She hadn’t spoken a word.

She refused to do anything but sit in that same fetal position, as if she were trying to hold herself together—piece by piece.

There was no sign she would come back to herself anytime soon.

It was painful to watch.

Hard to believe this was the same girl who was very cold to anyone.

Now she was barely a shadow of that person.

Her grief was suffocating, drowning out even the basic will to live.

She must have loved him with everything she had.

Yumi pushed off from the door and walked down the hallway, her steps slow, almost hesitant.

The house was too quiet now—like it was holding its breath.

She reached the kitchen, picked up another tray of food, and turned toward the other room.

Her hands trembled slightly as she approached.

She paused at the door—the one behind which Kouhei’s lifeless body still lay.

Right now, Hina was inside.

Yumi raised her hand and knocked gently, the sound faint in the stillness of the hall.

She stood there for a moment, eyes lowering to the tray in her hands.

Then she waited.