I Reincarnated as a Mob Character in a Romcom Manga—After I Kept Comforting the Third “Fanservice” Heroine When She Got Dumped and Cried, I Feel Like She’s Started Directing Some Seriously Heavy Feelings at Me - Chapter 39 & 40

Chapter 39: The Gloomy Mob Who Learned Why He Was Born

“I still like Yaohara! Just getting rejected once isn’t enough to make me give up—!”

In that instant, the sight of Chloe Mitsushima screaming those words filled my vision, and I tilted my head in confusion.

…Huh?

Did I get rejected by Chloe?

After everything I did?

Rather than shocked, I just felt lost.

As I looked around, it felt like I was watching a scene from inside some hospital room.

“Yaohara saved me! When those goons were about to assault me, he protected me and got beaten to hell and back for it…! I still love him, I love him! I love Yaohara so much!!”

Yeah—no, that had to be some kind of mistake.

The one who actually saved Chloe from those goons, however clumsily, was me.

As a faint sense of irritation crept in, Nayuta Yaohara came into view—lying on a hospital bed, his face wrapped in gauze and bandages. He wore an awkward, troubled expression.

“N-No, Mitsushima… I’m sorry, but I just can’t—”

“No! I won’t give up! Someday I’ll definitely make you look my way! I won’t let Hitotsuba-san or Nikaido-san beat me to it! This is my second declaration of war!”

…Huh?

Looking closer, something about this world felt wrong.

Wasn’t it unfolding inside cramped, boxed-in panels—like it wasn’t reality at all?

And right now, “I” wasn’t actually there…

I was watching it.

No—reading it.

“Yaohara, I love you! I really, really love you! There’s no way anyone else would protect me until they were this beaten up! No matter what it takes, I’ll make you fall for me!! I’ll absolutely make you love me!!”

—And suddenly, I got it.

This was probably how things went in the original story…

After “I” died.

Yeah.

The one who was supposed to rush in back then wasn’t some gloomy mob like me.

It was supposed to be the protagonist—Nayuta Yaohara.

Even after getting beaten half to death by those goons, Yaohara still managed to protect Chloe Mitsushima.

Seeing that, Chloe Mitsushima fell for him all over again—and finally admitted to herself that she just couldn’t let go of her feelings for Yaohara.

This was where Chloe Mitsushima’s second round of love was supposed to begin.

And yet—

A nobody like me… a background mob… had gone and completely messed it up.

Yeah… in the end, maybe a mob like me was never supposed to get involved in the story.

I shouldn’t have handed Chloe Mitsushima a handkerchief when she was crying after getting rejected.

I shouldn’t have comforted her in exchange for a bento.

I definitely shouldn’t have said something as stupid as, “Let’s run to the mountains together and fight a guerrilla war.”

That was a line I never should’ve crossed—

And yet, even as those thoughts ran through my head, a completely opposite feeling began swelling up inside me.

Anger.

Pure, boiling frustration.

Screw that.

So what if I’m just a mob in that world?

If I hadn’t handed her that handkerchief back then, would she really have made it home safely that day?

If I hadn’t comforted her there, who would’ve let her cry against them behind that school building?

If I hadn’t fought that so-called “guerrilla war” with her, who would’ve helped her stand back up after being left all alone?

I’m alive in this world.

My heart is beating strong—thump, thump—steady and real.

I’ve got two legs, and I can walk wherever I want.

Cheap rom-com clichés and preset story routes?

With these hands, I should be able to knock them aside—even flip them upside down if I want to.

She wasn’t Nayuta Yaohara’s anymore—the guy who had thrown her away.

She was mine.

I was the one who picked her up.

Those huge breasts that looked like every boy’s dream rolled into one.

That cute, generous ass her school skirt couldn’t possibly hide.

That shining silver hair, as if an angel had woven it by hand.

All of it—every last bit of it—was already mine.

And honestly, even Chloe Mitsushima herself wouldn’t deny that.

Thinking that made this whole situation—being shown how things were supposed to turn out if I hadn’t interfered—feel unbelievably irritating.

So “I” spoke up, aiming my words toward whatever was above me.

“I don’t care what happens after I’m dead. Just send me back to Chloe already.”

“I” protested to whatever existence was forcing me to watch this scene.

“She’s mine. Whether it’s love or hate doesn’t matter anymore—she’s mine, period. If you saw everything, don’t pull something this stupid. I comforted her. I got beaten to hell and back to take her back. At least give me the right to stand next to her.”

Yeah—even if she was labeled the third, the fanservice heroine.

There was no rule saying a heroine couldn’t be happy with someone other than the protagonist before the rom-com ended.

I took a slow breath in, then firmly declared my claim to whatever being was running this whole situation—probably the same thing that had reincarnated “me” as Reiji Jeromiya in the first place.

“If the protagonist—and this rom-com world—can’t make her happy, then I will. I’m just a mob, sure—but I’ll be the one to make her happy. That’s why I reincarnated. That’s my role… and that’s good enough, right?”

The moment I said it with conviction—

“Heh.”

Somewhere, someone let out a low, meaningful chuckle, like an amused snort.

At the same time, light began flooding into the pitch-black world around me.

Good grief…

No idea who you are, but you really went all out setting this up, huh.

Feeling half exasperated—but also grateful—to whoever it was still watching over me even now, I slowly opened my eyes and woke up.

Chapter 40: The Fanservice Heroine, Crying Herself Out

The first thing that came into view was my little sister Eru’s face—and a quiet, curious, “Oh?”

Huh?

What happened to me after that…?

While I was still trying to piece things together, Eru snapped sharply,

“Don’t move.”

So I stayed still and just looked upward with my eyes.

And for some reason—

There was a tall stack of wooden blocks piled up right next to my temple.

…Huh?

What is this?

As I stared in confusion, Eru slowly—very slowly—took a long breath in, then carefully, carefully tried to pull out one of the blocks—

And the whole thing collapsed.

Rattle, clatter—

A huge pile of blocks spilled straight onto my face, and I flailed like I was drowning.

“Ah! …Geez, honestly. I told you not to move, Onii-sama.”

“…I’ll ask just to be sure, Eru. Why were you playing Jenga on top of your brother’s head?”

“Well, you hadn’t moved at all and were sleeping like a corpse all night. At first I was really worried, obviously. But after a while, seeing you sleep so peacefully all by yourself started to annoy me. So I thought, why not use Onii-sama as a toy?”

No, that logic makes zero sense.

Also, don’t use your brother’s head as a Jenga stand.

I shot her a glare full of protest, then brushed the blocks off my face and sat up.

The moment I did, a dull, sharp pain shot through my entire body.

“Ugh…”

I couldn’t help but groan.

“Ow, ow—this hurts like hell…!”

“You don’t need to force yourself to sit up. The tests show no broken bones and no problems with your brain, but you’ve got bruises all over your body.”

“Yeah… figures. Eru—what happened after that? What about those goons and that flashy guy?”

“Oh, those guys? You mean the delinquents who threatened a helpless woman with a knife, tried to assault her, and then mercilessly beat up my dear brother after his reckless, brainless, weaponless solo charge?”

For some reason, Eru launched into her explanation with sparkling eyes, looking way too excited about it.

“After that, the academy gave up handling it internally and called in the police! Apparently they had plenty of other crimes on their record too, so there’s basically no chance they’ll escape proper criminal punishment!! Well—before all the serious interrogations, it looks like every single one of them is currently enjoying a stay in the hospital!!”

“W-Why are you so happy about this? Were you always the type to enjoy stuff like that…?”

“Because it’s unbelievably satisfying! Three knocked out, one with a broken arm, and one with his balls crushed!! A mass arrest of a nasty serial-rape group that’s made tons of girls cry and stay silent until now! It’s all thanks to you, Onii-sama, who got beaten to a pulp protecting Chloe-san—and Chloe-san herself, who completely wiped out the bad guys!!”

Chloe.

The moment I heard that name, I sucked in a sharp breath.

Ignoring the pain shooting through my whole body, I grabbed Eru by the shoulders and leaned in.

“R-Right! Chloe—what about Chloe!? Where is she? How is she doing!?”

I shouted in a panic, and Eru jerked her head back, blinking in confusion.

“Huh…? Where she is and how she’s doing?”

“Did she get hurt somewhere!? Chloe—what happened to Chloe!? Where is she!?”

“U-Ummm… Onii-sama…”

“I-I can’t just sit here! Eru, I’m going to Chloe right now!! Where is she!? Take me to her!!”

“O-Onii-sama! Please calm down! Chloe-san is—”

“She’s right here,” Eru said, pointing to the edge of the bed.

“Huh?”

I widened my eyes—and there she was.

Chloe Mitsushima was right beside me, her small face resting on the edge of the bed, breathing softly in her sleep.

…She’s asleep?

As I slowly reached out with my right hand to touch her face, I realized something for the first time.

Her left hand was wrapped around my right hand—her fingers tightly interlaced with mine.

My right hand—the one that had grabbed the knife blade—was wrapped in a blood-stained bandage.

As if to protect that injury, her sleeping hand held onto mine firmly, refusing to let go.

“Onii-sama, when Chloe-san wakes up, make sure you thank her properly. It annoys me to admit it, but Chloe-san was crying the whole time while you were being brought here, you know?”

Not her usual sharp, mischievous grin—Eru spoke with a strangely gentle, affectionate smile.

“She kept saying it was her fault you were going to die. Even though your injuries were never life-threatening, she completely lost it… The doctors and nurses had to calm her down over and over. She only just cried herself to sleep about an hour ago.”

“Chloe…”

Seeing the tear marks still clinging to her lashes, my chest tightened.

Without thinking, I squeezed her hand back.

Eru let out a small laugh.

“I’m annoyed it feels like I’ve been robbed of my brother, but honestly, I can’t compete with that. A girl in love really is unstoppable, huh.”

Love—

The word Eru casually dropped made my heart tremble.

I see…

She’s in love with me.

That’s why—even in her sleep—she won’t let go of my hand.

As I stood there, genuinely overwhelmed, Chloe let out a small groan, shifting as if she was about to wake up.

Eru quickly cleaned up the Jenga blocks, then stood up from the chair beside the bed.

“Alright then, I’ll go call Mom and Dad from the lobby and let them know Onii-sama is safe. I probably won’t be back for about five minutes. And also—if you’re going to do things with Chloe-san, please keep it within what’s acceptable for a hospital patient, okay?”

“…Shut up. I don’t need my little sister looking after me that much.”

When I snapped back at her seriously, she burst out laughing and skipped out of the hospital room.

After making sure she was really gone, I gently patted Chloe’s head with my left hand.

Maybe she felt it, because her beautiful blue eyes slowly opened—and focused on me.

“Jero… miya…?”

Still half-asleep, she softly called my name.

Smiling, I stroked her head again.

“Hey. Morning, Chloe. Sorry—I guess I really made you worry.”

I smiled at her so hard it probably tugged at every cut on my face.

The next second, her eyes snapped wide open—and she moved.

She suddenly climbed up onto the bed and straddled me.

“Wha—!?”

Before I could even process it, my wrists were grabbed and pinned down against the mattress.

“H-Hey!? C-Chloe—!?”

Her clear blue eyes shone with a look of firm resolve.

Ignoring my complete confusion, she leaned down over me—

And in the very next moment, our lips touched.

It wasn’t a hesitant peck.

She kissed me straight-on, pouring everything she was feeling into it, as if she was afraid I might disappear again if she let go.