I Reincarnated as the Counselor NPC in a Dating Sim, and Now Every Heroine I Treat Becomes Obsessed with Me - Chapter 36: “Scenes in the Hallway—The Girls Outside the Counseling Room, as Ren Saw Them”

Chapter 36: “Scenes in the Hallway—The Girls Outside the Counseling Room, as Ren Saw Them”

The same week.

A counselor’s job includes making rounds.

Walking through the school during class, observing the hallways, feeling the atmosphere of each classroom.

Not waiting for problems to happen—but noticing the early signs before they grow.

It’s a quiet job, but an important one.

And lately—

I had started to enjoy these rounds.

—

Wednesday. Break between second period.

As I passed by Class 2-3,

I heard voices coming from inside.

“Hinomiya-san, this math homework—you know how to solve this?”

A girl’s voice.

She was talking to Akane.

The classroom door was open, so I caught a glimpse inside.

One of her classmates stood next to Akane’s desk, holding out a notebook.

I saw Akane’s reaction.

“…Completing the square for a quadratic? You do this—”

She was teaching.

Akane—was teaching a classmate math.

Her tone was blunt.

She didn’t make eye contact.

She snatched the notebook and quickly scribbled the steps with her pen.

“Wow, that’s amazing. Hinomiya-san, you’re really smart.”

“It’s normal. This stuff’s in the textbook.”

“I read the textbook and still didn’t get it! Thank you!”

“…Whatever.”

Akane shoved the notebook back.

The girl smiled brightly and returned to her seat.

Akane turned to look out the window.

Her ears—I couldn’t tell from this distance if they were red.

I walked past the hallway.

I didn’t call out to her.

If I said something like “That was nice,” she might never teach a classmate again.

After being recognized for her skills in the festival decoration team, now Akane was being relied on for studying too.

Haruto had placed her in the decoration team.

Her classmates praised her artwork.

That—created the image of “Hinomiya-san is actually amazing,” and now someone came to ask her about math.

A chain reaction.

One connection led to the next.

—

Same Wednesday. Lunch break.

Rooftop.

My lunch time with Akane hadn’t changed.

Today, it was a homemade salmon bento.

Akane’s request.

“…Sensei.”

“Yeah.”

“You were watching earlier, weren’t you?”

(Caught.)

“I just passed by the classroom.”

“Liar. You stopped.”

“…I only watched for like two seconds.”

“Even two seconds is too much. It’s embarrassing.”

Akane roughly broke apart the salmon.

“…That girl—she sits next to me. She didn’t get the homework, so I just showed her.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s not like I went up to her or anything. She asked me, so I just answered.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s all.”

“I know.”

Akane started eating faster.

A clear sign she was embarrassed.

“…Sensei.”

“Yeah.”

“That girl—her name’s Sasaki. She’s the one I was cutting cardboard with at the haunted house during the festival.”

Sasaki.

Someone she worked with during the festival.

A connection had formed from that.

“Lately, she talks to me sometimes. About homework, or what the next class is. —It’s all pretty pointless stuff though.”

“Being talked to about pointless stuff—that’s normal.”

“…Normal.”

Akane stopped her chopsticks, as if turning that word over in her mind.

“Normal, huh. I don’t really get what ‘normal’ is.”

“You don’t have to get it. You’ll understand it as you go.”

She let out a small snort.

Not agreement, not rejection—just her usual sound.

“…That Sasaki girl asked if I wanted to study together for the next math quiz.”

“That’s good.”

“I turned her down.”

“…Why?”

“I’ve never studied with someone before. I don’t even know how that works.”

“There’s no special way. You just sit in the same place, solve the same problems, and ask each other about what you don’t understand.”

“…………”

Akane closed her bento lid.

She stared at the now-empty lunchbox.

“…If she asks again, I’ll think about it.”

“Yeah.”

I didn’t push any further.

At Akane’s pace.

—

After school.

I passed by the library.

Shizuku was there.

Her usual seat by the window.

But she wasn’t alone.

A girl from the library committee.

Same first-year as her.

The two of them were organizing the shelves together.

Shizuku wrote something in her notebook and showed it to the girl.

The girl nodded and put a book back on the shelf.

Shizuku wrote again.

The girl smiled.

It wasn’t a conversation—but an exchange of notes and nods.

Still, there was clearly communication there.

The girl said something.

Shizuku tilted her head, then wrote another note.

The girl read it and said, “Ah, that’s a better idea!”

Shizuku’s suggestion was accepted.

Her idea about how to arrange the books went through.

Shizuku—just slightly, behind her bangs, narrowed her eyes.

I didn’t go into the library.

I kept walking down the hallway.

Shizuku’s world.

The counseling room and the library.

In those two places, she was expressing herself.

The connection that started with exchanging books with Haruto—had now expanded into working together with another library committee member.

Shizuku’s language—her notes—were starting to reach someone other than me.

—

Thursday. Afternoon.

As I passed behind the gym,

I saw the soccer club practicing.

Rin was at the edge of the field, calling out to her juniors.

“Satou, that pass is too slow! Release it half a step earlier!”

“Yes!”

“—Nice! That was good!”

Rin’s coaching had changed.

Before—she probably did everything herself.

If a junior fell behind, she would cover for them, run herself, and score herself.

Now, she was using her voice.

Giving instructions, praising, correcting.

Instead of running alone, she was moving the whole team.

During a break, Rin sat down on the bench.

She drank some water.

Satou sat beside her.

The two talked about something.

Rin laughed.

Satou laughed too.

Rin sat side by side with her junior, laughing like equals.

Not as captain and junior—but as teammates.

I walked past the back of the gym.

—

Friday. Lunch break.

I was sitting by the copier in the staff room when I heard voices from the hallway.

“President, about this budget allocation—”

“Ah, I’ve left that to Suzuki-san. Please decide based on your judgment.”

“Huh, really? You don’t need to check it, President?”

“I trust Suzuki-san’s judgment. —But if you run into trouble, feel free to consult me anytime.”

It was Midori’s voice.

She was talking with a junior from the student council.

Before, Midori would have said, “I’ll check it. I’ll decide.”

But now—she said, “I trust you.”

At the same time, she added, “If you need help, come to me.”

Not simply handing it off.

Entrusting—while still supporting.

That—was the same thing I was doing.

Telling someone, “You can decide for yourself,” while also saying, “I’m here if you need me.”

Midori had taken that approach and applied it to running the student council.

(…It’s not like I taught her that. But if she saw it and learned from it—well, I’m glad. Still, it’s a little embarrassing.)

—

Friday. After school.

Counseling room.

Today, for once, there was no one.

Shizuku had left a note in the morning saying she wouldn’t come because of library duties.

Akane said at lunch, “Not today.”

Midori had student council.

Mio had rehearsal.

Rin had club practice.

The counseling room—just me.

Steam rose from the pot.

White snowdrop flowers.

Seven drawings.

A stack of notes in the drawer.

Quiet.

Sitting here alone, it really hit me again.

This room—was no longer the dusty, empty space it had been back in April.

It was a room where five girls had each left behind their own color.

Shizuku’s drawings.

Akane’s preference for how she drank her tea.

Traces of Midori’s binder.

The stuffed toy Rin won at the shooting game.

The cup Mio used for her second serving.

This room had become their place.

At the same time—it had become mine too.

(In my previous life, there was nothing like this. A plain counseling room. Once the client left, nothing remained. I wrote my records alone, went home alone, and died alone.)

This place was different.

There were flowers.

There were drawings.

A vice principal who took half a year just to remember my name.

And girls who said the tea tasted good.

There was a knock on the door.

Two knocks. A light rhythm.

“Come in.”

It was Haruto.

“Sensei, hey! Are you free today?”

“I am. Have a seat.”

Haruto sat down.

I gave him tea.

As usual, he drank half of it in his first sip.

“Sensei. I’ve got something to report.”

“Yeah.”

“I can talk to Hinomiya now—just a little.”

“…Really?”

“Yeah. The other day, we got assigned cleaning duty together. We were just silently wiping things down, but after we finished, Hinomiya said—”

Haruto spoke while recalling it.

“‘Hanasaki, you’re pretty careful when you clean windows. You even do the corners. First time I’ve seen someone do that.’ That’s all, though.”

“…That’s a big deal.”

“Huh, really? It’s just about cleaning windows, right?”

“Hinomiya-san watched what you were doing, recognized it, and put it into words. —That’s big.”

Haruto paused, thinking.

“…I see. Before, Hinomiya didn’t even look at me. It was just ‘You’re annoying, go away.’ But this time, she was actually watching me clean.”

“Yeah. She was watching.”

Haruto broke into a grin.

“I’m happy. —Sensei, you told me before, right? ‘Listen to what’s behind the words.’ So what’s behind Hinomiya’s ‘you’re careful when you clean windows’?”

“What do you think, Hanasaki-kun?”

“Hmm… maybe, ‘We cleaned together, and it wasn’t bad’?”

“That’s a good read.”

Haruto’s tea was empty.

I poured him a second cup.

“Ah, thank you,” he said as he took it.

“Sensei. Can I ask one more thing?”

“Go ahead.”

“My exchanges with Yukimura-san have been getting longer lately. Before, it was just one or two lines, but the other day—”

Haruto pulled out a notebook from his bag and opened a page with Shizuku’s writing.

“This is from our exchange about Kokoro. Yukimura-san wrote that ‘talking to that person makes me feel at ease.’ Not about me—about you, Asagiri-sensei.”

I looked at the note.

Shizuku’s handwriting.

Round, careful letters.

『I enjoy talking about books with Hanasaki-san. But it’s a little different from the sense of ease I feel when talking with Ren-sensei. When I’m with Ren-sensei— I feel like it’s okay even if I don’t say anything.』

Haruto looked at me with pure, straightforward eyes.

“Sensei, that’s amazing. Yukimura-san really trusts you.”

“…………”

“I’ve gotta work harder too. So I can become someone like you for Yukimura-san.”

Haruto meant no harm.

Showing me the note came from simple respect—and his own desire to improve.

But the fact that Shizuku mentioned me in her exchanges with Haruto, and compared her relationship with him to the one she had with me…

That—

“Hanasaki-kun. Take good care of Shizuku-chan’s notes, okay?”

“Of course! I’ve kept all of them!”

Haruto left with a smile.

Alone again, I looked out the window.

An October evening.

The days were getting shorter.

Long shadows stretched across the schoolyard.

This week, I had seen all five of them in the hallways.

Akane was teaching a classmate math.

Shizuku was organizing books with a library committee member.

Rin was sitting on the bench with her junior.

Midori was entrusting decisions to her juniors.

Mio was leaving direction to her club members.

All five of them—were starting to connect with others outside the counseling room.

That was the scene I had been aiming for.

But at the same time,

Shizuku’s note stayed in my mind.

—『When I’m with Ren-sensei— I feel like it’s okay even if I don’t say anything.』

A comparison with Haruto.

I had become the standard.

Even as she formed new connections in the outside world, she was measuring all of them against her relationship with me.

Things were expanding.

But—the center hadn’t moved.

October was ending.

November was coming.

Something—felt like it was approaching.