I Reincarnated as the Counselor NPC in a Dating Sim, and Now Every Heroine I Treat Becomes Obsessed with Me - Chapter 24: “An Empty Classroom in August—Spending Time with Akane in a Silent School”

Chapter 24: “An Empty Classroom in August—Spending Time with Akane in a Silent School”

August 1st.

The academy during summer vacation felt like a completely different place.

No footsteps echoed through the hallways.
All the classrooms were locked.
Only the sprinklers in the schoolyard turned on at set times, quietly watering the empty grass.

Even though it was a boarding school, most students had gone home or left for training camps.

The number of students still here could be counted on one hand.

The staff room was quiet too.

The vice principal was away on a business trip.
Tsubaki-sensei was working on a rotating schedule.
Half the teachers were absent for summer break.

I came to work as usual.

Opened the counseling room. 

Let fresh air in.
Prepared tea.

The room would stay open four days a week during summer vacation.

Whether students came or not was up to them—but keeping it open mattered.

The morning was spent on paperwork and organizing records.

While reviewing the counseling notes of the five girls, I planned ahead for the second term.

Shizuku’s records.
Letters from Midori.
Rin’s training camp schedule.
Mio’s performance plans.
And Akane’s—

Her file was thicker than the others.

It even included changes in her bento preferences.

At this point, it felt less like a record and more like a diary.

Even I thought it might be a bit much.

11:30 AM.

I heard footsteps in the hallway.

In the empty school building of summer—
A single set of footsteps.

Not slippers, but sneakers.

Wide strides.
A slightly rough rhythm.

It was Akane.

The counseling room door suddenly opened.

At first, Akane used to knock.

But ever since summer vacation started, she stopped.

It wasn’t like Mio, who simply didn’t ask for permission.

It was different.

Akane had started to think—“This place is mine too.”

At least, that’s how I chose to see it.

A sign of trust.

“…It’s hot.”

Her first words.

A T-shirt and denim shorts.

Without her uniform, she looked closer to her actual age.

Her hair was loosely tied back, and sweat glistened along her neck.

“The AC’s on. Come in.”

“Even with it on, it’s still hot. I thought I was gonna die just walking here from the dorm.”

Akane dropped into her usual chair.

“I’ll make you something cold to drink.”

“…Yeah.”

I poured her some barley tea.

She drank half of it in one go.

“So, what’s for lunch today?”

“I tried making sandwiches. Thought something cold would be better in this heat.”

“Hm.”

We had planned to eat on the rooftop.

But the summer heat was too much, so it naturally turned into eating inside with the AC on.

While I laid out the bento, Akane looked out the window.

The empty schoolyard.
The sound of cicadas.
Towering summer clouds.

“…There’s no one around.”

“Yeah. It’s quiet.”

“During the term, I thought it was too noisy. But when it’s like this—”

Akane cut herself off.

“—It’s nothing.”

“Lonely?”

“I’m not lonely. …It’s just quiet.”

We started eating.

Egg sandwiches and ham-lettuce sandwiches.

Akane picked the egg sandwich first.

“…This still has the crust on.”

“Want me to cut it off?”

“It’s fine. I like it with the crust.”

New information.

She liked crust.

Not something I’d write in a counseling record—

But something worth remembering.

“Sensei, do you come here every day?”

“On the days it’s open. Four times a week.”

“What about the other days?”

“I stay home and do paperwork. Sometimes I go out to buy things.”

“…Alone?”

“Yeah. Alone.”

Akane chewed her sandwich, looking like she was thinking about something.

“…Sensei. Don’t you have any friends?”

A sudden question.

But very like her—straight to the point.

“Hmm. Since coming to this academy, not really. Tsubaki-sensei is kind to me, but that’s not quite the same as being friends.”

“What about your previous job?”

That was my past life.

Of course, I couldn’t say that.

“My previous job… I was too busy with work. I didn’t have the space to make friends. Before I knew it, I was alone.”

That wasn’t a lie.

Back when I was a counselor before, I carried everything by myself—

And collapsed by myself.

Akane looked at me.

“…Then we’re the same.”

“The same?”

“No friends. Alone. —You and me.”

Her voice was flat.

But there was no mockery.

No self-hatred.

Just a simple statement.

“Yeah. Maybe we are.”

“…………”

Akane put the last piece of her sandwich into her mouth.

Chewed.

Swallowed.

Then washed it down with barley tea.

“…Then, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“How about I become your friend?”

My hand stopped mid-air, still holding the sandwich.

Akane kept looking out the window.

She wasn’t looking at me.

But her ears were red.

“…Friends? Even though I’m a teacher and you’re a student?”

“That kind of thing doesn’t matter. Friends don’t care about age or roles.”

“…………”

“Whatever. It’s fine if you don’t like it.”

“I don’t mind.”

I answered instantly.

As a counselor, I knew that wasn’t the best response.

Calling this relationship “friends” wasn’t something professionals would usually recommend.

But—

Right now, I wasn’t just a counselor.

I was a person.

“Thanks, Akane.”

“…Tch, I don’t need your thanks. I just said it.”

Her ears turned even redder.

Silence.

Only the sound of cicadas filled the room.

She stood up.

“I’m heading out.”

“Already?”

“It’s hot. —I’ll come again tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s not an open day.”

“Then make it one.”

“…That’s not really how it works.”

“Shut up. The day I come is an open day.”

Akane walked to the door.

She grabbed the handle—then looked back.

“Sensei.”

“Yeah?”

“…The sandwiches weren’t bad. Tomorrow— I want rice balls.”

“Got it.”

She left.

After the door closed, I couldn’t move for a while.

—“How about I become your friend?”

Akane Hinomiya.

A girl who didn’t trust adults at all.

A girl who once said, “All adults are trash.”

And that same girl—

Had said, “I’ll be your friend.”

This wasn’t just the result of counseling.

It was something—something much more personal.

(…Akane. You probably don’t realize how much that meant to me.)

The counselor in me was warning—“This is getting too close.”

But the version of me who once died alone— felt a little saved.

—

And just like that, the days of summer vacation passed.

True to her word, Akane came every day I was there.

Whether it was an official open day or not didn’t matter.

In the end, I started opening the counseling room every day.

Because Akane would come.

The bento menu changed daily.

Rice balls.
Yakisoba bread.
Cold noodles.
Nikujaga bento.

Little by little, I kept gathering data on Akane’s preferences.

“Sensei, your nikujaga is too sweet.”

“I’ll make it less sweet next time.”

“…It’s not like I hate sweet things or anything.”

After lunch, we stayed in the counseling room.

Akane would read books—(lately, she had started reading No Longer Human, the same one Mio borrowed) , take naps, or sometimes peek over at my paperwork.

“…Sensei, your handwriting’s messy.”

“It’s a chart. As long as it’s readable, it’s fine.”

“At least write my name a little more carefully.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Don’t talk like Hojouin.”

I was a little surprised that Akane knew Midori’s usual phrase.

She had been paying attention too.

The school during summer vacation was quiet, and time felt like it moved slower.

Sunlight streamed in through the window.
The sound of cicadas filled the air.
The counseling room stayed cool with the AC.
Two cups of tea.

I found this time—comfortable.

Not as a counselor—but as a person.

Did Akane feel the same way?

I didn’t know.

But the fact that she came every day—felt like an answer in itself.

—

August 10th.

That day too, I was having lunch with Akane.

Today’s menu was somen.

I brought the dipping sauce in a small bottle.

“Does somen even count as bento?”

“It does. It’s cold and tastes good.”

“…Well, it’s not bad.”

Akane’s “not bad” was the highest level of praise.

While slurping the somen, she spoke.

“I saw Hanasaki in the library.”

“Hanasaki-kun? Even during summer vacation?”

“He doesn’t even have club activities, but he still showed up. In the library, he was with that Yukimura girl—well, not talking, just exchanging notes.”

So Shizuku and Haruto were meeting in the library.

Something I already knew.

“Looks like Hanasaki’s paying attention to Yukimura too. And Hojouin, Kagurazaka… he’s basically talking to every girl in class, right? I mean, he talks to the guys too, but still.”

“…He’s just a social person.”

“Sure, but… it’s like he’s the protagonist of a game. He’s kind to everyone, talks to everyone. It’s not annoying or anything, but—”

Akane searched for the right words.

“—it feels shallow. Like it’s wide but not deep. Like he shows the same face to everyone.”

I was honestly surprised.

Akane’s observation was accurate.

Haruto—

As the protagonist of a game—

Naturally moved in a way that raised flags evenly with all the heroines.

In this world, he was supposed to be acting on his own will.

But the result still mirrored the structure of the game.

“Hanasaki-kun isn’t a bad guy.”

“I know. I know he’s not a bad guy. —But still.”

Akane picked up a single strand of somen with her chopsticks.

“He once told me, ‘Cheer up,’ you know. Before summer vacation.”

“…Yeah.”

“I get that he didn’t mean anything bad. But—‘cheer up’ is something only someone who doesn’t understand anything would say.”

There was no anger in her voice.

Just calm observation.

“Sensei, you never said that to me. You never told me to ‘cheer up.’ You just put the lunch down, stayed next to me quietly, and waited until I started talking on my own. —That’s completely different.”

“…………”

“Hanasaki—he is looking at me. I can tell he is. But the depth is different. Sensei, you—”

She stopped mid-sentence.

“…Forget it. I almost said something embarrassing.”

“What were you going to say?”

“No idea. I forgot.”

She probably hadn’t forgotten.

But I didn’t push.

I would follow her pace.

After finishing, she stood up.

“Sensei.”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna go to the supermarket tomorrow? I’ll help you pick stuff for the bento.”

“…Go shopping together?”

“If you don’t want to—”

“I don’t mind. Thanks.”

Akane didn’t respond.

She just walked toward the door.

“Tomorrow, 10 AM. At the front gate. Don’t be late.”

“Got it.”

The door closed.

A new routine had been added to summer vacation—

Shopping together.

I opened my notebook.

I tried to write today’s record—and my pen stopped.

Should I even write this as a counseling record?

The fact that she said, “I’ll be your friend.”

That I remembered her food preferences.

That we made plans to go shopping together.

This wasn’t something for a counseling record.

It was something more personal—closer to a diary.

(…My relationship with Akane is starting to go beyond the boundaries of counselor and client. I know that. And even knowing that, I’m choosing this distance.)

I didn’t know if it was the right choice.

But—

if Akane was afraid of being alone again,

Then there was meaning in me being here.

Not as a counselor—

But as a friend.

I closed the notebook.

Instead, I started thinking about tomorrow’s bento menu.

We’d be going shopping together.

If I paid attention to what Akane picked, I could learn even more about her preferences.

Summer was still long.