I Took A Succubus's First Time

Kouhei was running—no, sprinting with everything he had—his heart pounding like a war drum inside his chest, while behind him, an angel rained down beams of divine light that carved craters into the earth with each blast.

Each time she fired, he instinctively threw his body to the side, adrenaline surging through his veins, muscles screaming as he narrowly escaped the white-hot death chasing his heels.

The beams scorched the air, leaving behind a stinging ozone trail and a ghostly hum that buzzed in his ears.

"If I get hit by even one of those… I'll be blown to pieces. Obliterated." The thought rang clear in his mind, chilling him deeper than the cold winds rushing past his face. "I have to dodge—no matter what."

This wasn't a game.

There were no retries, no second chances.

One mistake, one misstep, and it would be over. That was it.

So he kept running. Kept dodging. Kept surviving.

The angel kept pace effortlessly, floating behind him like a judge sent from heaven, expression unreadable.

Her eyes watched him, not with anger or hatred—but with something strange.

Confusion.

Genuine, pure bewilderment.

It was like she was watching an anomaly, a glitch in what should've been a perfect process.

And honestly? She wasn't wrong. This entire situation was bizarre.

"…Weird," she murmured under her breath, her calm voice drifting through the air like a whisper on wind.

Raising her slender hand again, a brilliant light surged from her palm. Another deadly beam shot forward.

Kouhei reacted on instinct, twisting his body with an almost inhuman reflex, letting the scorching ray blaze past him and smash into the ground with a thunderous crack that sent dust flying into the sky.

But she was learning.

She changed her tactics quickly.

This time, she didn't aim where Kouhei was.

She aimed where he would be.

She read his dodging pattern, calculating his trajectory.

Her next beam was a trap.

However… Kouhei didn't play into it.

Rather than veer off-course, he charged forward in a straight line, head-on with no hesitation whatsoever.

And because of that—because he did not dodge—he completely avoided the trap.

The angel hesitated.

Her eyes dropped to her hand as if questioning her own precision, as if wondering if something was broken or off about her aim.

But no.

That wasn't it at all.

It was Kouhei.

He wasn't just lucky.

He wasn't relying on miracles.

His body had been trained to feel death approaching.

His instincts were sharp—razor sharp—honed by experiences, pain, and relentless effort.

The moment danger locked onto him, he could sense it.

Like a buzzing warning bell inside his skull, it rang out the second something fatal approached.

And his body responded immediately.

But when the attack wasn't a real threat to him, that sense didn't activate.

No warning meant no need to dodge.

That was why he hadn't flinched.

It was a level of awareness carved into his soul thanks to countless life-and-death moments as well as rigorous training—most notably, because of Aria.

Still, the angel seemed done with this charade.

With one massive beat of her majestic wings, she soared high into the air, light trailing from her feathers like stardust.

Then—without warning—she dropped down, wings slicing through the sky like blades, landing directly in front of Kouhei.

He slammed his heels into the dirt, skidding to a stop, his breath catching in his throat as he avoided crashing into her by mere inches.

"You're dodging your way straight into heaven," the angel said, her voice soft, yet filled with eerie finality. "Why?"

Kouhei looked her dead in the eyes, sweat dripping down his jaw, but his expression was steady.

"Because I don't want to die yet," he said plainly.

No hesitation.

There was no fear in his voice—only conviction.

And in his eyes, a silent fire burned.

A desperate refusal.

A need to fight, no matter what.

"Dying is a natural part of mortal life," she responded, her tone as flat and emotionless as a machine. "There is no joy in death for humans… except that angels will come to retrieve them and lead them to heaven. So why, you mortal, do you resist? Why reject your death when it's already been decided? I do not understand your struggle."

Her words echoed with logic—but they couldn't pierce Kouhei's determination.

To her, it made no sense.

He was already dead.

His body, broken beyond repair, lay behind somewhere far away.

He had no chance to return.

No miracle was coming.

Yet he kept running.

Kept fighting.

Kept trying to escape his own end.

But she knew the cost.

Souls that wandered too long—souls that refused to reach their final destination—eventually began to wither.

Their consciousness, once vibrant, would begin to crumble. Bit by bit, they would fade.

And then… they would disappear.

True death.

The complete disintegration of a soul.

Even now, Kouhei's mind existed only because his soul remained intact.

He could still think.

Still feel.

Still choose.

If he ascended to heaven, his soul would rest.

If he were damned, his soul would suffer.

But either way, there would be something.

But if he kept resisting—kept evading—then soon, even that would vanish.

"I want to come back," Kouhei said, his voice low but firm. "I'm not ready to die yet."

It was a ridiculous answer.

Foolish.

Impossible, even.

But he said it with such weight… such belief.

The angel stared at him.

Her face didn't change, didn't flicker with emotion.

And then, slowly, she summoned a weapon.

A radiant sword formed in her hand.

It was a pure light shaped into a blade, pulsing with divine energy.

"There really are stubborn souls who refuse to die," she said quietly. "But I'm sorry. For your sake… I must cut you down."

Her words were calm.

But they were terrifying.

Kouhei felt it—the shift in the air as well as the pressure intensifying.

His muscles tightened as he raised his shinai, his only weapon, barely holding back the tremble in his arms.

He braced himself.

There was no choice left.

He would have to fight.

"You really are stubborn," the angel said, as if tired of this entire ordeal. "You're making this painful for yourself. But if you insist… then I have no choice."

With that, her wings stretched wide—then snapped forward.

A sudden burst of wind and light.

And she launched herself at him.

She was fast.

A blur of light slicing through the air like a lance.

But not fast enough to completely catch Kouhei off guard.

His instincts flared—just in time—and his body reacted on pure reflex.

With a sharp pivot of his foot and a twist of his torso, he barely slipped past the incoming strike.

And then…

Without hesitation, the angel surged forward again, her expression still cold, sword of light raised high above her head.

The radiant blade shimmered, humming like it wanted to split the air itself.

She came down on him with divine wrath.

Kouhei dropped low—his body nearly brushing the ground—ducking beneath her attack.

But she didn't stop there.

With a swift spin, feathers scattering from her wings like glimmers of silver dust, she swung again.

Another lethal arc blazed through the space he had just dodged.

Kouhei's eyes widened. He had no space left. There was no angle to flee.

With a deep breath, he threw up his shinai.

His hands clenched tight around the hilt.

Mana surged from deep within him, racing through his limbs like wildfire.

The air around his body crackled, and in that split second—

He poured everything he had into the wooden blade.

The strike landed.

The clash rang out like thunder.

The blinding light of the angel's sword collided with his mana-charged shinai, and to her shock—it held.

Sparks burst from the point of impact, crackling violently as light and mana struggled against one another.

The angel's expression shifted—eyes widening slightly, just enough to betray her surprise.

"…Weird…" she murmured, her voice still devoid of emotion.

She flapped her wings once, strong enough to lift her off the ground, and retreated mid-air.

Kouhei watched her as she floated down again, her wings gently folding behind her as she landed with silent grace.

Her gaze remained fixed on him.

"It's not possible… not for someone like you," she said, her tone now laced with a flicker of intrigue. "Dodging my precision strikes… and blocking a sword of light? Especially with that crude weapon... That shouldn't be."

She tilted her head, scrutinizing him. "What are you, exactly? I sense training in you. A strange kind of discipline."

There was something beneath her words. It was an almost imperceptible interest.

But Kouhei didn't answer.

He exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing in focus, and tightened his grip around the shinai once more.

He knew the truth.

He couldn't keep up with her speed, not indefinitely.

But he could keep his stance sharp and his mind clear. One mistake would end him, and he knew it.

The angel slowly lifted her hand.

The sword of light dissolved in her palm, scattering into motes of radiant energy that faded into the air.

"What is your goal?" she asked suddenly, her voice quieter now. "Why do you cling to this existence? For someone like you… do you truly believe a soul can return from death? Once a life has ended, there's no rewinding it. That is the law. The absolute rule. Unless…"

Her voice trailed off briefly.

"…Unless you're doing something very reckless."

There was a shift in her tone.

It was thoughtful and contemplative.

Kouhei's defiance, that single clash between blade and light, had earned her attention.

But before either of them could speak again—something changed.

A strange rumble.

A distant crackle through the air.

Kouhei's eyes darted upward—and froze.

He saw something plummeting from the sky, trailing smoke and embers like a dying star.

No.

Not something.

Someone.

His breath caught in his throat.

"No…"

His heart lurched.

"Himeno-san!"

It was Yui.

She was unconscious, her body limp as it spiraled downward, leaving a trail of ash and flickering fire behind her as she fell from the sky.