I Reincarnated as the Counselor NPC in a Dating Sim, and Now Every Heroine I Treat Becomes Obsessed with Me - Chapter 20: “Lies and Silence—The Day Haruto Visits the Counseling Room for the First Time”

Chapter 20: “Lies and Silence—The Day Haruto Visits the Counseling Room for the First Time”

Early July.

Final exams were approaching, and the entire academy had begun to feel restless.

That day after school, an unexpected visitor came to the counseling room.

It was during the quiet gap of time before Shizuku usually arrived. I was preparing tea when someone knocked on the door.

Two knocks. Light, quick, and rhythmic.

Not Shizuku.
Not Akane.
Not Midori.

Rin knocked much rougher than that, and Mio didn’t knock at all.

“Come in.”

The door opened.

Standing there was—

Haruto Hanasaki.

“Hey. This is the counseling room, right?”

A bright smile. Well-balanced features. A relaxed, natural presence.

The game’s protagonist had just walked into my room.

(…I definitely didn’t see this coming.)

In the game, there was no event where Haruto visited the counseling room. After all, there was no reason for the protagonist to visit the room of a nameless NPC with only a single line of text.

And yet—

Here he was.

“I’m Ren Asagiri. The counselor. —You’re Hanasaki-kun, right? What can I help you with?”

“Ah, yeah! Haruto Hanasaki. Class 2–3. Uh…”

Haruto scratched the back of his head.

The same gesture he always made when he was stuck.

The same expression he had when he sat on that bench in the courtyard, staring up at the sky.

“Um… it’s more like a consultation. Or maybe just something I wanted to ask about.”

“Go ahead. Have a seat.”

Haruto sat down.

His posture was relaxed—not sloppy, just natural and easygoing. Completely different from Shizuku’s stiff, nervous way of sitting or Midori’s perfectly straight back. Haruto simply sat like someone who didn’t feel the need to put on airs.

I placed a cup of tea in front of him.

“Ah, thanks.”

He took it and immediately took a sip.

(…No hesitation at all. Mio came here six times before she managed a second cup, and this guy already looks ready to finish his on his very first visit.)

“So, what did you want to ask?”

“Uh, Sensei—you listen to students’ problems here, right?”

“Yeah. That’s my job.”

“And… you don’t tell other people what students say here, right?”

“There’s confidentiality. I never share what someone talks about here. Even who comes here stays private.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured. Well… actually…”

Haruto began speaking. His tone carried a bit of hesitation, but his eyes were completely straightforward.

“There’s this girl in my class. Hinomiya.”

My heart skipped a beat.

Akane’s name had just come out of Haruto’s mouth.

“What about Hinomiya-san?”

“Well… she’s been a little different lately. In a good way, I mean. Before, she skipped class all the time, but recently she’s been showing up for the afternoon ones more often. And her expression is… I don’t know… not as sharp as before.”

Haruto spoke with a serious expression.

This wasn’t casual curiosity.

He was genuinely worried about Akane.

“But I don’t really know how to deal with her. The first time I tried talking to her, she clearly hated it. Since then… we haven’t really talked.”

“…………”

“And the other people in class kind of keep their distance from Hinomiya too. But I keep thinking… that girl probably—”

Haruto searched for the right words.

“Probably wants to talk to someone more than she lets on. Her eyes kind of say that. I can’t really explain it well, though.”

I took a sip of tea while quietly observing Haruto.

Was this guy dense… or sharp?

He had sensed Akane’s core truth—that deep down, she wanted someone to talk to. That part was sharp.

But after she rejected him, he couldn’t figure out how to approach her again and ended up backing off.

That wasn’t really being dense.

It was just awkwardness.

He wasn’t a bad guy. That much was clear.

If anything, he was a good one. Not many high school students would care enough about the class “problem child” to come all the way to the counseling room just to ask for advice.

“Hanasaki-kun. Thank you for caring about Akane—Hinomiya-san.”

“Huh? No, it’s not like it’s anything special—”

“It is. Worrying about a classmate and coming to a professional for advice—that’s a very respectable thing to do.”

Haruto scratched his head, looking slightly embarrassed.

“…So, Sensei. How should I deal with her?”

That was a difficult question.

I couldn’t reveal anything about Akane. Confidentiality existed for a reason. The fact that she came to the counseling room, her past, the whole lunchbox diplomacy situation—none of that could be mentioned.

But I didn’t want Haruto’s good intentions to go to waste either.

“I can’t give very specific advice, but there’s one thing I can say.”

“Yes.”

“I think Hinomiya-san is the type of person who wants people to listen to the meaning behind her words, not just the words themselves.”

“The meaning behind them?”

“For example, if Hinomiya-san says, ‘You’re annoying.’ It might really mean ‘You’re annoying, go away.’ But it could also mean ‘Don’t get too close… but don’t disappear completely either.’”

His eyes widened.

“…Isn’t that insanely hard?”

“It is. But earlier you said, ‘Her eyes say that.’ You weren’t just listening to her words—you were watching her eyes. I think that instinct of yours is right.”

Haruto fell silent, thinking.

When people came to counseling in my previous life and said they were “thinking,” their eyes usually wandered around.

But Haruto’s eyes didn’t wander.

He stared straight ahead, focused, seriously thinking it through.

“…Listening to the meaning behind the words, huh.”

“One more thing. This isn’t only about Hinomiya-san.”

“Okay.”

“People want someone to understand them. But if you say something like, ‘I get you, I totally understand,’ it can actually push them away. Understanding isn’t something you announce with words. It’s something you show through your actions.”

His eyes flickered slightly.

“…I once told Hinomiya, ‘You’re actually kind deep down, right? I can tell.’ She got really mad at me.”

“Yeah.”

“…So that was a bad move, huh.”

“I think Hinomiya-san knew you didn’t mean anything bad by it. It was just the timing and the way you said it.”

“The timing and the way I said it…”

Haruto covered his face with both hands.

“Man… I really messed that up. And I didn’t even realize it…”

His reaction was honest. No excuses. He simply accepted that he had made a mistake.

That honesty—

I thought it was Haruto’s greatest strength.

It wasn’t some “protagonist bonus” from the game. It was his ability to notice his mistakes and adjust himself once he realized them. He had already shown that with Shizuku too, when he suggested communicating through writing.

“No need to beat yourself up over it. If you noticed it now, you can change what you do next time.”

“…Yeah. You’re right. Next time, I’ll try to watch more carefully before talking to her.”

Haruto lifted his head.

His expression had already shifted—from discouraged to positive.

He recovered quickly.

“Oh, right. Can I ask one more thing?”

“Go ahead.”

“There’s a first-year girl in the library—Yukimura-san. I kind of want to get to know her better, but it’s hard to talk with her. One time she wrote a book recommendation for me on a memo, and I was really happy about it. But… what should I do next?”

Now Shizuku’s topic came up too.

“Hanasaki-kun, did you show her your notebook and say something like, ‘You can write it if you want’?”

“Ah, yeah. I figured maybe she’s not good at talking. So I thought writing might be easier for her.”

“I think that was a very good decision.”

“Seriously?!”

Haruto’s face immediately lit up.

He was the kind of person who felt genuinely happy when praised. That alone made him pretty likable.

“The important thing is to match Yukimura-san’s pace. If writing notes works for her, then that’s perfectly fine. There’s no need to rush her into talking.”

“Match her pace… Maybe I’ve been rushing things a little.”

“I wouldn’t call it rushing. Wanting to get closer to someone is a good feeling. It’s just that sometimes your pace and the other person’s pace are different.”

“I see… So taking it slow matters.”

“Yeah. Slow and steady.”

Haruto nodded a few times, then finished his tea.

Just as expected—first cup, completely gone.

“Sensei, thank you! That really helped a lot.”

“I’m glad if it helped.”

“Can I come again sometime? I feel like I’ll probably have more questions later.”

“Of course. Anytime.”

Haruto stood up and headed toward the door.

“Oh, right.”

He turned back and flashed a wide grin.

“Sensei, what was your name again? Sorry, I keep mixing it up with the nurse’s office teacher.”

“…Ren Asagiri.”

“Asagiri-sensei! Got it! See you later!”

The door closed.

His energetic footsteps ran down the hallway.

“………………”

I sank back into the chair.

(He didn’t remember my name. Well… that makes sense. I’m just a background NPC. Same level as the vice principal.)

And yet—

Strangely, it didn’t bother me.

Haruto Hanasaki. The protagonist of the game.

After actually talking to him, I realized something.

He wasn’t “capturing” anyone like in a game. At least, he wasn’t aware of anything like that. He was simply curious about his classmates, wanted to get along with them, kept stumbling in awkward ways—and then came here to ask for advice.

Just a normal seventeen-year-old guy.

Good-looking, good at talking to people, but because of that, he sometimes didn’t notice when his approach wasn’t working. And when he finally realized it, he could honestly admit it.

Then he would use that lesson the next time.

(…You’re a good guy.)

Not a pawn being controlled by a player from behind a screen.

A real person in this world—thinking with his own head and walking forward on his own two feet.

And that Haruto had come to my counseling room for advice.

The protagonist of the game had come to a background NPC’s room asking for help.

That was—

An event that never existed in the game.

This world was different from the game.

Things weren’t following the game’s script anymore. The characters weren’t trapped inside their “settings.” They were beginning to act on their own choices.

Haruto too.

The heroines too.

And—

Me as well.

(If I say this is getting interesting, maybe that sounds a little inappropriate. But… this world is starting to move beyond the limits of the game. That’s frightening in some ways, but at the same time—)

It was hope.

In the game, there were girls I couldn’t save.

But maybe in this world, I could.

Not by my strength alone—

But with Haruto’s help too.

“…Well, the least he could do is remember my name. At least that much.”

I muttered to myself and cleaned up the empty cup Haruto had left behind.

—

A few minutes later, Shizuku arrived.

She sat in her usual seat and opened her book.

But—

Today, she quickly handed me a memo.

『Ren-sensei. Earlier in the hallway, I passed by Hanasaki-san. He was coming out of this room.』

“Ah, Hanasaki-kun stopped by for a consultation.”

Shizuku began writing another note.

『Will Hanasaki-san start coming here too?』

The third time I’d seen this question pattern.

—“Will that person come again?”

She had asked the same kind of thing before—first about Akane on the rooftop, then about Midori.

Now Haruto made it the third.

“I’m not sure. He might come again, or he might not.”

Shizuku looked at my face—

Then nodded.

This time, she returned to her book fairly quickly.

Compared to before, she was recovering faster after asking this kind of question.

Maybe she was slowly starting to accept the idea that other people might come to Ren-sensei.

Or maybe she had simply gotten used to it.

Either way, Shizuku seemed calm today.

She sat by the window, reading her book and occasionally taking a sip of tea.

She didn’t draw today.

It looked like she was in a reading mood.

Before leaving, she handed me a note.

『Ren-sensei. I think I’ll ask Hanasaki-san what he thought about Night on the Galactic Railroad.』

I read the note and felt honestly happy.

Shizuku was planning, on her own, to communicate with someone outside the counseling room.

“Sounds good. If you hear his thoughts, tell me about it too.”

She gave a small nod and left the counseling room.

After the door closed, I stood there for a while, looking out the window.

The evening sky glowed with sunset.

The bright light of July.

The game’s protagonist had come to the counseling room, asked for advice, and then left.

One of the heroines was now planning to talk with that same protagonist about a book.

Events that never existed in the game’s story were beginning to appear one after another.

This world was starting to move beyond the game.

I still didn’t know what that truly meant.

But it couldn’t be a bad thing.

At least not today—after seeing Haruto’s honest smile and Shizuku’s small but clear decision.

“Alright then.”

I wondered what would happen tomorrow.

The script of this world was no longer something anyone could read.