I Took A Succubus's First Time

Misuzu sat in the preparation room, the air thick with the scent of cosmetics and perfume. The soft hum of hair dryers and the rhythmic tapping of brushes against palettes filled the space as makeup artists worked meticulously around her. Their hands moved with practiced precision, dabbing, blending, and perfecting every detail of her already flawless face. Though she hardly needed any enhancement, it seemed that makeup was an unavoidable ritual before stepping into the glare of the camera.

Surrounded by this whirlwind of activity, Misuzu remained still, her expression composed as she let them do their work. Outside, Kouhei waited, his presence lingering just beyond the door. The staff had made it clear—this space was for models only. He had no place inside.

"So, Misuzu-chan," one of the makeup artists spoke, her voice laced with curiosity and playful mischief. Though her hands remained steady as she worked, her eyes flickered with interest. "Who's the boy waiting outside?"

"He's someone from my school," Misuzu replied smoothly, her tone indifferent.

"He's not your boyfriend?" The woman arched a perfectly sculpted brow, the teasing in her voice unmistakable.

"He's not," Misuzu answered, her lips curving ever so slightly. "Right now, he's just playing the role of my bodyguard."

The makeup artist chuckled, tilting her head slightly. "He's quite the looker, you know. And while he might seem a bit on the slim side, I can tell—he's not as scrawny as he seems." Her voice took on a knowing edge. "I caught a glimpse of his forearms earlier. There's some real definition there."

Misuzu's fingers subtly tightened around the fabric of her robe.

"He's much stronger than he looks," she admitted, her voice carrying an undertone of certainty.

Though she had yet to see Kouhei without a shirt, there was no doubt in her mind—beneath his uniform, he was anything but weak.

The makeup artist let out a small hum before leaning in slightly, her voice lowering as if sharing a secret. "Just so you know, Misuzu-chan… romance is a dangerous thing in this industry."

Misuzu's eyes flickered toward the mirror, her reflection calm and unreadable.

"If your fans ever found out you had a boyfriend—especially one outside the entertainment world—it could be disastrous," the woman continued. "Your image, your career… everything could crumble in an instant."

Her words were gentle, yet laced with an unspoken warning.

"Of course," she added, a slight smile tugging at her lips, "I'm not saying love is a bad thing. But if you want to reach the top, you can't afford distractions."

Misuzu met her gaze through the mirror, a quiet, knowing smile forming on her lips. "I know."

And then…

Another presence made itself known.

Seated just beside her, Mitani Chihiro had been listening in silence, her posture relaxed yet deliberate.

She exhaled a soft laugh, tilting her head slightly. "Come now," she said, amusement flickering in her eyes. "A little fun never hurt anyone, did it?"

Her voice was smooth, like silk draped over steel.

"I mean, having a boyfriend or two at your age isn't exactly scandalous, is it?"

Misuzu's fingers curled slightly on her lap.

"Perhaps not," she admitted, her voice carefully measured. "But as someone rising in this industry, it's not exactly ideal."

She turned slightly, meeting Chihiro's gaze head-on.

"It's not forbidden, of course, but it's certainly not encouraged—especially for someone like me, who's only just gaining traction."

"I see…"

Chihiro's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile.

"But that's only true if you get caught, right?"

Her words lingered in the air, heavy with implication.

"If someone were… careful about it, I doubt anyone would mind," she continued, her fingers absently tracing the armrest of her chair. Then, with a pointed glance toward Misuzu, she asked, "What do you think, Misuzu-chan?"

Misuzu held her gaze, her expression unreadable.

"Well, it's not like I have that kind of relationship with Okumura-kun," she said finally. "Right now, we're barely more than acquaintances."

That much was true.

But it was also why she intended to change that.

The stronger their bond, the more she could benefit from his power—the very ability that strengthened those he formed deep connections with.

Chihiro's gaze darkened with intrigue.

"Is that so?"

Then, in one smooth motion, she leaned forward, her tone dipping into something sultry, something dangerous.

"Well, if that's the case… then you wouldn't mind if I took him for myself, would you?"

A sharp, invisible jolt shot through Misuzu's chest.

Her breath caught—just for a fraction of a second.

"…What?"

That feeling again.

A stirring deep within her, twisting and unfamiliar.

What was this?

She couldn't quite tell.

Chihiro merely smiled, as if she had just uncovered something interesting.

"It's not so hard to understand, is it?" she murmured, her voice light, almost playful.

"Unlike you, who's still rising to fame…"

Her eyes gleamed, sharp and calculating.

"I'm not."

Mitani Chihiro was not a rising star—she had already reached the peak of her fame. A household name, she was as dazzling as she was enigmatic, known for her breathtaking beauty, effortless charm, and an unmistakable air of confidence that made her seem untouchable. But beyond her career, she was also infamous for her peculiar dating habits.

She exclusively pursued high-profile, sculpted male celebrities—men who had graced the covers of magazines and ruled the entertainment industry with their good looks. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, none of her relationships ever lasted beyond a single month. It had become a ritual: at the end of that brief period, she would host a live stream, pressing her delicate hands together in a gesture of apology, her innocent smile unwavering as she announced yet another breakup.

And the public loved her for it.

They adored the way she handled heartbreak with grace, the way she remained untethered by the chains of attachment. It was as if she existed above human emotions, untouchable, unrestricted.

Now, that same dazzling Chihiro turned her gaze toward Misuzu.

"Right now, I'm single," she said, her voice light and airy, like she was merely making casual conversation. Her lips curved slightly, a playful glint in her eyes. "Although he is a bit young for my usual taste… I don't believe that should be an issue, should it?"

A strange sensation twisted in Misuzu's chest.

"I'm sorry, Chihiro-san, but I can't allow you to do that."

The words slipped from her lips before she could think. The moment she heard them, even she was taken aback.

Why…?

Chihiro blinked at her, tilting her head slightly. The smile remained, but her gaze sharpened ever so subtly. "Why is that, Misuzu-chan?" she asked, her voice soft, sweet, yet carrying an unmistakable edge. "He's not your boyfriend, is he? And as far as I know, you aren't even allowed to have a boyfriend right now. So why stop me?"

Misuzu hesitated.

She didn't know.

There was no real answer.

"I… Well, Okumura-kun is already in a relationship with someone, so I don't think that would be appropriate," she finally said, grasping at the only excuse she could think of.

Chihiro didn't even flinch. Instead, her lips curled in amusement as she let out a soft, melodious chuckle.

"Hmph. So what?"

She leaned back slightly, crossing her legs with the fluid elegance of a queen surveying her domain.

"Do you truly believe that boy could resist dating someone like me?" she continued, her tone playful yet dripping with confidence. "In fact, he should feel honored—privileged—for the opportunity. Who wouldn't want to date Mitani Chihiro?" She giggled, lifting a delicate hand to her lips. "Fufufu. Even if he already has a girlfriend, I have no doubt he'd break up with her the moment I ask him to be mine."

Then, as if to prove her point, she turned to the hairdresser, who was in the middle of blow-drying her hair.

"Don't you think so?"

The woman stiffened. Chihiro's gaze was piercing, expectant.

"R-Right…" The hairdresser stammered.

Satisfied, Chihiro turned back to Misuzu, her smile never faltering.

"So, I can have him, right?"

Misuzu fell silent.

She had no idea how to respond.

And that frustrated her.

***

After an extended preparation period, the photoshoot finally began. The room buzzed with energy as flashes of light flickered, cameras clicked, and models posed with practiced precision.

Though many of the aspiring models were undeniably charming, none held a candle to Misuzu.

When it was finally her turn, she stepped onto the set with an air of quiet confidence. The moment the camera focused on her, she became something else—a vision of grace and beauty that transcended the ordinary.

She didn't need to force herself into an overtly seductive pose. She didn't have to rely on exaggerated expressions or excessive flair. Instead, her presence alone commanded attention. She stood with effortless elegance, her movements fluid, her gaze distant yet enthralling.

It was as if she wasn't merely being photographed—but immortalized.

Even the other models, who had come to observe, found themselves mesmerized.

And then—

Chihiro stepped forward.

The room seemed to still for a moment.

Two radiant figures, two women at the pinnacle of beauty, now stood side by side.

The two of them—Mitani Chihiro and Yuki Misuzu—would be featured together on the front page of a prominent magazine.

The camera flashes intensified.

The chatter among the onlookers grew.

"Wow… Chihiro-san and Misuzu-san are truly something else."

"Right? It's like they aren't just being captured in a photo—it's as if they're being painted into existence."

Even Kouhei, who had remained mostly indifferent throughout the process, had to agree.

And then—

It happened.

For a fleeting second, Chihiro's gaze flickered in his direction.

Their eyes met.

She smiled.

A slow, knowing, intentional smile.

The corners of her lips curled ever so slightly, just enough to be noticeable.

Just enough to make it clear—

That it wasn't an accident.

Kouhei's breath hitched.

But before he could fully process what had happened, Chihiro turned away, shifting her focus back to the photographer as if nothing had transpired.

"…Huh?"

Kouhei blinked, his brow furrowing slightly.

Had that really happened?

Or had he just imagined it?