I Reincarnated as the Counselor NPC in a Dating Sim, and Now Every Heroine I Treat Becomes Obsessed with Me - Chapter 44: “Sensei’s ‘I’m Fine’—December, and the Body’s Warning Signs”

Chapter 44: “Sensei’s ‘I’m Fine’—December, and the Body’s Warning Signs”

Third week of December.
Five days until winter break.

When I woke up on Monday morning—my body felt heavy.

It wasn’t a fever.

The thermometer read 36.7°C. Still within the normal range.

My throat hurt a little.

The back of my head felt foggy.

That vague kind of discomfort right before a cold fully begins.

I drank some kakkonto, made lunch, and headed to school.

December mornings were dark.

Even at seven, it was still dim, and my breath turned white in the air.

By the time I passed through the school gate, I could hear the students talking—but today, their voices felt strangely far away.

I knew the cause.

It wasn’t a cold.

Everything from last week had been circling endlessly in my head.

Shizuku’s eighth drawing.

The apple tree with no figures beneath it.

The closed curtains.

My decision to make the schedule.

A decision that should have been correct.

And yet, it had hurt Shizuku.

In the ninth drawing, the figures returned.

Shizuku smiled again.

I changed it back to “Come on the days you want.”

It should have been resolved.

And yet, one line kept repeating in my mind.

—『If you saw it, then why didn’t you do anything for me?』

The words from Shizuku’s note.

Beautiful handwriting. Too beautiful.

Akane’s words remained too.

—“Sensei, your ‘properly’ is slow.”

And Tsubaki-sensei’s eyes.

—“It may still be too soon to ask that girl to share the place most precious to her.”

All of them—were right.

Every one of them had pointed directly at my mistake in judgment.

I knew that.

I reflected on it.

I corrected it.

I would use it next time.

—I could process it that way in my head. But my body wasn’t keeping up.

It had been the same in my previous life.

When mental strain built up, it showed in the body.

My stomach would hurt.

My shoulders would stiffen.

My sleep would become shallow.

And in the end—I would collapse.

(I’m still fine. It’s not like my previous life. Back then, I went nonstop for three years. This time, it’s still…)

Still.

When had the word still started attaching itself to all my thoughts?

—

Lunch break.

Empty classroom. Lunch with Akane.

A cold wave had arrived this week.

Even Akane finally gave in.

“…Fine. Let’s eat inside today.”

Today’s lunch was the standard salmon bento.

“…Sensei. Don’t you look pale?”

She pointed it out before even swallowing her first bite of salmon.

“Really? Maybe it’s just the cold.”

“Don’t give me that cheap excuse. You’ve got dark circles under your eyes.”

“…I’ve just been sleeping lightly lately.”

It wasn’t a lie.

For the past few days, I had been waking up in the middle of the night.

Two o’clock. Three o’clock.

I’d stare at the ceiling while Shizuku’s notes, Midori’s smile, and Mio’s lines circled through my head.

Then morning would come before my thoughts ever settled.

Akane stopped eating and looked at me.

“…Did something happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“When your face looks bad, it usually means you’re carrying something again. It’s a warning sign the lunch quality is about to drop.”

She was measuring my condition through the taste of my bentos.

Apparently, after eating together for more than half a year, your accuracy gets that high.

“…I’m fine.”

“There it is.”

Akane pointed her chopsticks at me.

“Sensei, everyone sees through your ‘I’m fine,’ you know. Yukimura too. Kagurazaka too. Hojouin too. Me too.”

“…So four people have figured it out?”

“Don’t know about Kujou, but she probably has too. So all five.”

Akane put a piece of salmon into her mouth.

“Sensei. You’re overthinking us, aren’t you?”

My chopsticks stopped.

“The schedule thing. That girl’s situation. —We know we’re causing you trouble.”

“Trouble? It’s not like that—”

“Don’t lie.”

Akane cut me off immediately.

“You’re too nice, Sensei. You realized we’re depending on you, and now that burden’s crushing you, right?”

Akane’s straight fastball.

When this girl aimed for the center, she never hesitated.

“Burden…”

“I’m dumb, but I can understand that much. We rely on you too much, and now you look like you’re about to break. —Am I wrong?”

She wasn’t wrong.

She wasn’t wrong, but I never expected to hear it from Akane herself.

“…I’m not breaking. Just a little tired.”

“That ‘just a little tired’ is exactly the problem.”

Her voice sharpened.

“People who say ‘just a little’ or ‘it’s nothing serious’ are the ones in the most danger. You should know that better than anyone, Sensei.”

I had no answer for that.

“Sensei. How many days until winter break?”

“Five.”

“Can you last five days?”

“I can.”

“…………”

Akane closed the lid of her bento.

She had finished everything.

“If you don’t make it, say so. I’ll make lunch for you instead, Sensei.”

“Akane’s lunch…?”

“Don’t mock me. I can make cup noodles, at least.”

“That’s not a lunchbox.”

“Shut up.”

Akane laughed a little.

I ended up laughing too.

I could still laugh.

That meant I was fine.

—Probably.

—

After school.

Shizuku came.

After the schedule was revised, she had started coming every day again.

Today too, she knocked exactly at four.

Her usual seat. I served tea.

Shizuku accepted the cup—then looked at my face and took out her notebook.

『Ren-sensei. You look bad.』

The same thing Akane told me at lunch.

“I’m fine. Just a little short on sleep.” 

Shizuku kept staring at me.

Her eyes behind her bangs, fixed and steady.

『I do not believe “I’m fine.”』 

“…So I’ve been found out.”

『Ren-sensei’s “I’m fine” is always a lie. Same as Rin-san said. —I wrote that before too.』

Shizuku remembered the note from that time.

『To recover your condition, you should put honey in your tea. I read in a book that it is good for the throat.』

“I wonder if we have honey…”

『I will bring some tomorrow.』

A Shizuku decision.

There was no room to refuse.

After that, the usual quiet time passed.

She read her book, we didn’t draw today, and we spent the time in silence.

Her note before leaving:

『Ren-sensei. Please sleep warmly. I will come tomorrow too. With honey.』

—

Tuesday.

I couldn’t sleep.

I woke up at two in the morning—and stayed awake until dawn.

I just stared at the ceiling.

What kept flowing through my mind were the faces of the five girls.

Their trust.

Their dependence.

And I could no longer tell where the line between those two began and ended.

The iron rule of counseling: “Maintain appropriate distance.”

“If a dependent relationship forms, quickly transfer the case to another support provider.”

Correct.

One hundred percent correct.

But—there was nowhere to transfer them to.

I was the only counselor at this academy.

Tsubaki-sensei was the school nurse, not a counseling specialist.

Even if I connected them to outside professionals, those people would have many other patients. They likely couldn’t devote as much focus to counseling as I had.

Shizuku, Akane, Midori, Rin, Mio—every one of them certainly had issues.

But all of them were recovering.

They were in the middle of recovery.

Changing counselors halfway through—might feel like betrayal to them.

(Then do I keep carrying it all myself? Alone? All five of them?)

That way of thinking was exactly how my previous self died from overwork.

If I don’t do it, no one will.

There’s no replacement.

I can’t quit halfway.

I knew it.

I knew it, and yet—I was about to step into the same tracks again.

—

Morning.

Thermometer.

37.2°C.

A mild fever.

I drank more kakkonto.

And I made lunch—Akane’s portion too.

My hands shook a little.

Lack of sleep. That was all.

When I arrived at school, Tsubaki-sensei looked at my face and frowned.

“Asagiri-sensei. Your face is red.”

“It’s just little feverish. I’m fine.”

“‘I’m fine’—Asagiri-sensei, that of yours sounds like nothing but stubborn pride.”

Even Tsubaki-sensei said it now.

“I really am fine. Winter break is only four days away.”

“Please don’t push yourself. The infirmary has fever medicine, so come anytime.”

—

Lunch break.

Lunch with Akane. Empty classroom.

The moment Akane saw my face, her eyes sharpened.

“It’s worse, isn’t it?”

“It’s not—”

“Don’t lie. You look way worse than yesterday. You’ve got a fever, don’t you?”

“Just a mild one. Around thirty-seven.”

“Go home.”

“Go home…? I still have until after school—”

“Who gives a damn about after school? Go to the infirmary and sleep.”

Akane stood up while packing away her lunchbox.

“You won’t listen if it’s me saying it, so I’ll tell Tsubaki-sensei.”

“You don’t need to tell her—”

“Then go home.”

“…………”

“Sensei. I told you before, didn’t I? Not about bento—if you collapse, what are we supposed to do?”

What lay beneath those words.

The morning her mother disappeared. No note left behind.

“…Sorry. I’ll hold out until after school. Tomorrow—if the fever goes up, I’ll rest.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“…If you lie, I’ll never eat your lunch again.”

Akane left.

—

Tuesday. After school.

Akane and Rin came.

The moment Rin walked in, she shouted,

“Sensei, doesn’t your face look terrible!?”

“I’m just coming down with a cold.”

“That is not ‘just’! Your voice is all raspy too! Shouldn’t you go home!?”

“I’ll go once I finish after-school hours.”

Rin crossed her arms.

“Sensei. You do realize the person who told me not to push myself is now pushing himself, right? That’s a contradiction.”

I had no comeback for that.

Akane jumped in from the side.

“I told this idiot to go home at lunch, but he didn’t listen.”

“Hinomiya-san told you too!? Sensei, you’re way too stubborn!”

Then—three knocks came at the door.

It was Midori.

“Excuse me. —Sensei?”

Midori looked at me, and her smile disappeared.

“…Sensei. You have a fever.”

“It’s only a little over thirty-seven—”

“You should go home.”

Midori closed her binder.

“There is no need for today’s discussion. We will postpone it until next week. —Please go home.”

Three people were telling me to leave.

“I feel like I’m being told to go home by a three-person team…”

“That’s because it takes three people to make you listen.”

Rin’s brutally accurate reply.

Akane walked up to my desk and grabbed my bag.

“Come now. We’re leaving.”

“Akane, that’s my bag—”

“Shut up. Say you’re going home.”

Rin waved and said, “Sensei, please take tomorrow off, okay?”

Midori gave a small bow.

“Please take care of yourself.”

I was practically chased out of the counseling room by the three of them.

In the hallway—I passed Shizuku.

Shizuku was holding a small jar in her hand.

Honey. Just like she promised.

The moment she saw my face, her eyes widened.

Without even taking time to write a note—Shizuku pressed the jar of honey into my hands. Both hands. Tight and firm.

Then she quickly took out her notebook and wrote only one line.

『Please go home.』

The fourth one.

“…I’m going home.”

Shizuku nodded strongly.

Again and again.

—

On the way home.

December evenings came early.

It wasn’t even five yet, and it was already dark.

Shizuku’s honey was in my bag.

Akane’s “Promise me” still remained in my pocket.

Rin’s “That’s a contradiction” echoed in my ears.

Midori’s “You should go home” pushed against my back.

Four people had told me to go home.

When I died from overwork in my previous life, there was no one to stop me.

Not a single person told me to go home.

I carried all the work alone.

Collapsed alone.

Died alone.

Now, four people were telling me to go home.

The solid feel of the honey jar in my hand.

Honey chosen by Shizuku.

I returned to the dorm and checked my temperature.

37.5°C.

It had gone up.

I dissolved the honey in hot water and drank it.

Sweet.

It soothed my throat.

I got into bed.

Tomorrow—if the fever went down, I would go to work.

If it didn’t go down—then I had made a promise to Akane.

If I took the day off—what would those girls do?

Three days until winter break.

Just three more days until the long holiday began.

During that time, they would either return home or stay in the dorms.

The counseling room would be closed.

Three more days.

Could I keep going?

Should I keep going?

Maybe the very phrase keep going had already become a warning sign.

I closed my eyes.

Not knowing whether sleep would come or not.