I Reincarnated as the Counselor NPC in a Dating Sim, and Now Every Heroine I Treat Becomes Obsessed with Me - Chapter 42: “Outside the Window—What Tsubaki-sensei Saw, and Akane’s Question”

Chapter 42: “Outside the Window—What Tsubaki-sensei Saw, and Akane’s Question”

Second week of December.

Monday. Shizuku’s day.

Shizuku came. Exactly at 4:00. Right with the chime.

Lately, Shizuku had been arriving earlier. Before, it was usually around 4:10.
Now, it was exactly 4:00. She was probably leaving class the moment it ended and coming straight here.

She took her usual seat. I served the tea.

Shizuku wrapped both hands around the cup. December’s cold had grown harsher now. The way she held the warm tea carried a stronger sense of need.

Today—she wrote a note.

『Ren-sensei. One of the library committee girls asked if I will continue being on the committee next term.』

“What do you want to do, Shizuku-chan?”

Shizuku stopped her pen. 

Five. Ten seconds.

『I don’t know.』

“You don’t know?”

『I like being on the library committee. But—my after-school time would decrease. Sometimes it overlaps with the time I come here.』

Library committee days and counseling room days would overlap.
For Shizuku—that meant moments where she would have to choose one or the other.

The old Shizuku would have continued with the library committee without hesitation.
She loved books, loved the library, and her relationship with the committee girl had been growing too.

But now—what scared her more was losing time in the counseling room.

“Shizuku-chan. Do you want to continue being on the library committee?”

Shizuku nodded.

Slightly.

“Then you should continue. The time here—we can adjust it.”

『Adjust?』

“If it overlaps with your library committee day, then we can move it to another day.”

Shizuku looked at me.

Quietly. Intently.

『Other days belong to other people.』

She was right.

Monday and Wednesday were Shizuku’s days, Friday was shared with Akane.
Tuesday was Akane, Rin, and Midori.
Thursday was Mio.

If I moved her day—it would mean stepping into someone else’s slot.

“…Yeah. Let me think about it.”

Shizuku nodded.

But her eyes carried a color close to resignation.

『You don’t need to think about it. I will first ask if they can change the library committee day.』

Shizuku was trying to solve it herself.

Trying not to burden me.

Was that independence?

Or endurance?

The note she gave before leaving:

『Ren-sensei. I will come on Wednesday.』

The usual confirmation of facts.

But today, there was one more line.

『The snowdrops by the window look a little weak. It may be better to give them more water.』

Worrying about the flowers.

The flowers Shizuku had brought—Shizuku was still watching over them.

I looked toward the window.

The tips of the snowdrops’ leaves had indeed started turning yellow.

Lack of water, perhaps. Or the cold.

After Shizuku left, I watered the flowers.

—

Tuesday. Lunch break.

Rooftop. Lunch with Akane.

The rooftop in December was cold. The wind was sharp.

But Akane refused to move locations, saying, “I’m fine with cold. I hate heat more.”

Today’s lunch was tonjiru bento.

I brought it in a heat-retaining container.

“…Sensei, this is good.”

“Soup hits different on cold days.”

“You’re changing the menu to match me, aren’t you?”

“You caught me?”

“Obviously. Summer was somen, autumn was mixed rice, winter is tonjiru. —Sensei, maybe you’ve got talent as a househusband.”

“If I quit being a counselor, I’ll become one.”

“Don’t.”

Akane sipped the tonjiru.

Maybe the warmth reached her body, because some of the tension left her shoulders.

“…Sensei. Can I ask one thing?”

“Go ahead.”

“That girl… hasn’t she been weird lately?”

My chopsticks stopped.

“The other day, we passed each other in the hallway. Before, she used to look at me and give a little bow. But this time—she didn’t. Actually, I don’t think she even noticed me. She looked spaced out.”

“…”

“That girl used to pay attention to everything around her. Holding her notebook, looking around all the time. But lately—her eyes look dead. Or more like… she’s staring somewhere far away.”

Akane’s observation.

Akane had spent a long time sharing the same counseling room as Shizuku.
She knew Shizuku’s “normal.”

So she noticed the change too.

“Maybe it’s not my place to say this, but that girl—she walks past this room on days you’re not here, doesn’t she?”

“…How do you know that?”

“Because I pass by her when I’m leaving on Tuesday after school. She comes walking from the hallway where the counseling room is. That’s the long way around. If she’s going back to the dorms, the other hallway is shorter.”

I couldn’t say anything.

Akane placed her bowl down.

“Sensei. I’m not complaining about the schedule. You’ve protected my time. But—”

Akane looked straight at me.

“That girl… isn’t she starting to break?”

Starting to break.

Akane’s words were rough, but they struck the core of it.

“…I’m watching her. Properly.”

“Just watching?”

“…”

“Sensei. I’m dumb, so I don’t get complicated stuff—but I don’t want to see that girl break. I like her writing.”

After saying that, Akane finished the rest of her tonjiru.

“…You can give her my Tuesday slot.”

“Huh?”

“I eat lunch with you anyway, and I’ve still got Friday, right? If you give Tuesday to her, she gets one more day. —Though I don’t know if she can survive Kagurazaka’s noisy voice.”

Akane was trying to give her own slot to Shizuku.

“Akane.”

“What?”

“…Thank you. But you don’t need to force yourself for this.”

“It’s not forcing myself. I eat lunch with you anyway, so giving up one after-school day—”

“No. Your slot belongs to you. —I’ll think this through. Properly.”

Akane stared at me for a while, then let out a snort.

“…Properly, huh. Sensei, your ‘properly’ is slow.”

Those words pierced deep.

—

Tuesday. After school.

Akane and Rin came, and we spent the usual time together.

After Rin left, Midori arrived.

Today was Midori’s “tea time.”

No reports—just time for honest feelings.

I brewed tea and placed it in front of her.

Midori took one sip, let out a breath—and began to speak.

“Sensei. There is something that has been bothering me.”

“Yeah?”

“Before coming here today, in the hallway—I ran into Tsubaki-sensei from the infirmary.”

“Tsubaki-sensei?”

“Yes. Tsubaki-sensei looked slightly worried and said, ‘Lately, I’ve noticed a student standing in front of the counseling room after school. There’s a girl who leaves without going in, and I’ve been concerned about her.’”

My breathing stopped for a moment.

Tsubaki-sensei had seen it.

The infirmary was right next to the counseling room.
If Tsubaki-sensei was inside, she could see the hallway in front of this room.

She had seen Shizuku—on Tuesdays and Thursdays, on days that weren’t hers—coming to the door, then leaving without entering.

“Tsubaki-sensei did not say which student it was. She only said, ‘I thought it would be better to let Asagiri-sensei know,’ and asked me to pass the message along.”

Midori looked at me.

“Sensei. Do you have any idea who it might be?”

Midori didn’t know.

She had no way of knowing who it was. Tsubaki-sensei hadn’t given a name either.

But Midori’s eyes were sharp.

“…I do have an idea.”

“I see. —Perhaps it is not my place to say this, but…”

Midori placed her cup down.

“The schedule you created has helped me greatly. Because I know Tuesday is my time, I can come here with peace of mind. But—”

Midori carefully chose her words.

“It may not be true that everyone has been helped in the same way.”

Midori’s insight.

Midori, who had begun removing the armor of perfectionism, was now starting to notice the pain of others.

“…Midori-san. Thank you. And please thank Tsubaki-sensei for me as well.”

“Yes.”

Midori left.

Alone in the counseling room, I sank into my chair.

Akane had said it to me.

—“Are you just watching?”
—“Sensei, your ‘properly’ is slow.”

Midori had brought me the message.

Tsubaki-sensei had seen it.

Shizuku—stopping in front of the door, then going to the dorm without entering.

It wasn’t only me who had noticed.

Others had seen it too.

While I kept telling myself I’m properly watching over her, Akane had noticed Shizuku’s change.
Tsubaki-sensei had noticed too.

I thought the schedule was the right choice.
I thought it was necessary—for Midori and Mio.

And that was true.

Midori was being helped.
Mio’s slot was secured.
Rin and Akane had no real issues.

Only Shizuku—was quietly sinking.

And I knew it.

I knew it, and still failed to act.

Akane’s words echoed again.

—“Sensei, your ‘properly’ is slow.”

Slow.

She was right.

I had already realized it when I saw Shizuku’s eighth drawing.
I knew it when her Friday notes dropped to only one line.
When I realized the footsteps on Thursday were Shizuku’s—that was when I should have acted already.

And yet, I delayed it with excuses.

She’ll be fine for now.
Once she gets used to it, things will go back.

I was the one—who postponed the decision.

I saw the change in the most fragile client, and chose the “best result for everyone” instead, pushing one girl’s pain aside.

That was—the mistake my past self didn’t make.

My past self had done the opposite.

He became too emotionally involved with one client, threw off the balance of everything else, and destroyed himself.

This time—I tried to learn from that.

I chose “what is best for the whole.”
The best option for all five of them.

But in the end, I had hurt the most fragile girl the most.

The opposite failure from my previous life.

But a failure all the same.

I opened my notebook.

The hand holding my pen was trembling.

I turned to Shizuku’s record page.

The changes in the length of her notes.
The shift in the time she arrived.
What her notes said before leaving.
The eighth drawing.

Everything was there.

Recorded. Analyzed.

I had documented it all—and done nothing.

Tomorrow was Wednesday.

Shizuku’s day.

Tomorrow—I had to change something.

What exactly I should change, I still didn’t know.

Should I cancel the schedule?
Make an exception only for Shizuku?
Or—something else?

Without finding an answer, I turned off the lights in the counseling room.

When I stepped into the hallway, the infirmary light was still on.

Tsubaki-sensei looked toward me and gave a small bow.

And in her eyes—there was a quiet question waiting.