After Becoming a Counselor for Girls, I Ended Up Producing a Lot of Potential Girlfriends Who Became Mentally Ill

Chapter 13: The Start of the Counselor Role

A chilly sensation that seemed ready to engulf everything—it was something Kujo had given me.

I thought once again that Kujo resembled a swamp.

I didn’t possess the straightforward persistence to steadily encroach on others. My role was simply to support those around me; I never pushed myself to the forefront.

When did I become like this?

“Probably since forever,” I thought.

I recalled the past.

When I was young, my parents divorced. My father found someone else and disappeared. My mother was always at work, so I rarely saw her. Truthfully, I didn’t even want to see her.

I mostly stayed with my maternal grandparents. Surrounded by adults, it was a rigid environment where I couldn’t express childlike behavior.

I unconsciously began to think about how to make adults like me and pay attention to me.

To get them interested in me, to make them listen to me, I first had to listen to them. That was the conclusion I reached.

Although our relationship was tense at first, it gradually improved. Once I had a single successful experience, I started building upon it.

I’d been playing the role of a counselor for a long time. Even with friends, I preferred listening over talking about myself.

The reason I continued listening to others and became a counselor—

It was because I wanted to influence those around me. In the end, it was something I did for myself.

“…It’s not like the reason matters much, though.”

I shook my head vigorously to reset my thoughts.

Distractions weren’t necessary. Giving reassurance and showing sincerity—these were what people expected from a counselor.

…Not that someone like me, who had responded to Kujo and Shizuku’s “special” requests, could ever truly live up to those words.

A notification sound chimed.

Another message had arrived from someone seeking advice. I glanced at the notification.

It was from Shiraishi, a quiet girl who had been harassed by Kujo’s ex-boyfriend.

Previously, I’d given her some simple guidance on how to handle the situation.

Shiraishi: “Thank you for the other day. Thanks to you, Yasuda-san, I feel a bit more at ease. ‘Stay strong and be cunning.’ Those are great words. It really shows that your title as a counselor isn’t just for show… (continued)”

Stay strong and be cunning.

Those were qualities both Shiraishi and I lacked. It would be a lie to say Kujo and Shizuku didn’t come to mind as I read her message.

It’s not unusual for different clients to share similar issues. This time, I’d simply applied my experience again.

“Shiraishi really writes polite messages.”

Her consistent use of formal language was so characteristic of her calm and gentle nature.

You can’t judge a person solely by their writing, but Shiraishi seemed far from being a “yandere.” She gave off an aura of stability, as if she handled everything quietly.

Unlike the lovable yet slightly unbalanced girls I often dealt with, she brought a rare sense of peace to my mind.

“Oh, there’s more to the message.”

I opened the app and continued reading.

Shiraishi: “Since you kindly helped me, I’d like to show my gratitude somehow. Please let me treat you to something.”

What a serious person.

I never expected compensation for giving advice. Just hearing a simple “thank you” was reward enough for me.

I had always politely declined excessive expressions of gratitude, like being treated to something, to avoid any lingering complications.

As usual, I tried to decline her offer tactfully.

Shiraishi: “Even so, I’d really like to meet and thank you in person, even if just briefly. I know I’m being a bit pushy, but please consider it.”

Shiraishi didn’t retreat. She stood firm in her request.

If that was the case, I couldn’t just refuse outright. If meeting her would bring her satisfaction, then a short meeting wouldn’t hurt. A special exception.

“…I’m starting to change.”

I rarely bent my rules or principles.

But once you break your own boundaries, it tends to have a lasting impact—exactly what was happening now.

“Even if I’ve changed, the task remains the same.”

I accepted Shiraishi’s suggestion and moved on to scheduling.

We decided to meet for a meal after the New Year.

Tomorrow was already New Year’s Eve. Starting the 30th, Shiraishi had plans with her family.

From New Year’s Eve to the first three days of the new year, I’d be staying at my maternal grandparents’ home. It wasn’t far from where I lived.

Even the shrine we visited for New Year’s prayers was predetermined, regardless of which house I was staying at. The largest shrine in the area attracted everyone from the neighborhood.

In middle school, I often ran into classmates there. The encounters were always awkwardly distanced, making the experience somewhat painful.

I wondered how this year’s New Year’s prayers would go. My imagination started running wild.

I hoped I could handle my advisory duties smoothly in the coming year as well.

To think my wish would revolve around my role as a counselor—it seems I truly cherished this position, for better or worse.