I Was Helping Out With The Harem Plan Of The Romcom Protagonist I Admired, But Now That I’ve Realized He’s A Scumbag, Next Time I’m Going To Stop It And Make The Girls Happy Myself

Chapter 22: Getting “Canceled” / Going Up in Flames

The cause of Nanase-san—Mizurin—getting flamed was, bluntly, jealousy from hardcore “gachi-koi” fans.

At some point—I don’t know when—the stalker who got arrested had taken photos of Mizurin while she was with Jinguuji.

Those photos were posted today from an account believed to belong to that stalker, and they spread in an instant.

He probably expected to get arrested and scheduled the post in advance as revenge.

A normal streamer wouldn’t get burned this badly. But Mizurin’s style—cosplaying while gaming—was basically adjacent to “idol branding,” even if she didn’t mean it that way.

To her fans, having another guy around and hiding it felt like betrayal.

Once that happens, going up in flames is easy.

The gachi-koi crowd—the ones who’d been dumping donations on her—were the ones amplifying it and ripping into her.

“Are you kidding me!? Give me my money back!” “So after streaming like that, you had a guy the whole time?” “I regret becoming a fan.”

On top of that, regular users who found the drama entertaining poured gasoline on the fire.

The internet was overflowing with trash who think, Everyone’s piling on, so I’ll pile on too. It was disgusting to look at.

※

That morning before homeroom, the classroom was nothing but talk about Mizurin’s flaming.

Jinguuji chatted with the popular kids group like nothing happened, not showing even a hint of being shaken.

“Hey, Kouki. Is this really okay?”

“It’s fine. If we don’t do anything, it’ll die down soon anyway.”

“Yeah, sure, but…”

Surprisingly, a lot of classmates sounded genuinely worried about Jinguuji and Nanase-san.

Nanase-san herself wasn’t at school, of course.

“Is Nanase-san okay? That’s her boyfriend, right?”

“We’re not dating yet, but yeah, I’m worried. I’ll message her on LINE later.”

As he said that to his friends, Jinguuji raised his phone—and flashed that creepy smile.

It was so natural no one else noticed anything wrong.

Only I did.

Did that bastard… do something?

Anger prickled up, but I forced myself to think.

Normally, Jinguuji wouldn’t have a reason to push Mizurin all the way into getting flamed—except… he would.

I remembered my previous life.

Back then, Mizurin got flamed in the same way, stopped coming to school, and shut herself inside her house for a while.

Then, a few months later, Nanase-san suddenly showed up at school again and said, like it was nothing:

“I quit streaming.”

Mizurin’s account—over a million subscribers—was completely deleted.

After retiring as a streamer for good, she started pushing her feelings on Jinguuji even harder than before, always trying to become “number one” to him.

In my previous life, Nanase-san had heroine power so overwhelming it intimidated even the other heroines.

And what did that mean?

She stopped believing in streaming, in the world, in people—until the only person she could trust was Jinguuji.

In my previous life, she couldn’t find any meaning in living unless she clung to him.

That’s why she suddenly started attacking him nonstop—like she’d been brainwashed, desperate and dependent.

Let her taste despair, then “save” her like a protagonist—that’s Jinguuji’s favorite method.

What the hell is the point of making a girl like you that way?

The moment the conclusion clicked, I lost myself.

I couldn’t hold back my rage at Jinguuji smiling like that—smiling like he was enjoying it—after destroying the life she’d worked so hard to build with streaming.

Jinguuji, looking like he couldn’t hold in his laughter anymore, briskly left the classroom.

Biting my lip so hard it felt like it might bleed, I chased after him.

The moment we reached a quiet corner of the school building, Jinguuji let out a “pfft,” then burst into loud laughter.

“This is a masterpiece. I can’t believe that stalker bastard would do something this stupid. I ought to thank him.”

As Jinguuji cackled, I clicked my tongue and turned my back on him.

If you won’t do anything, then I will.

Even now, Nanase-san might be suffering under her blanket.

I’ll be the one to comfort her.

Maybe it’s almost impossible for someone like me to comfort her. Maybe what Nanase-san wants right now is only Jinguuji.

Even so, if my sense of justice can become even a small support for her, I’ll do it all the way.

This is my atonement—for failing to act for her when it mattered.

Chapter 23: Atonement

I pressed the intercom beneath the nameplate that read “Nanase.”

First time—ding-dong.

Second time—ding-dong.

Third time—ding-dong.

“……”

There wasn’t the slightest sign Nanase-san was coming out.

It was so quiet I wondered if anyone was even inside.

As I reached for the intercom again—no, this is pointless.

So, with no choice, I put my hand on the doorknob.

Click—the door was unlocked.

When I opened it, the inside of the place flooded into view.

The house felt small enough to be a one-person place, and in the entryway, what looked like school sneakers were scattered around like they’d been kicked off in frustration.

Past the step up, a school bag lay toppled on the floor as if it had been thrown. Textbooks and notebooks had spilled out, and that alone told me how close to breaking she’d gotten.

I tried calling, “Nanase-san,” but there was no response, so I said only, “Excuse me,” and stepped inside.

I passed the kitchen that connected straight from the entryway and opened the door that seemed to lead into the living room.

In an instant, the scent of a girl tickled my nose. But with the lights off, the room was dim, and I couldn’t make out the details.

Even so, I could tell someone was lying on the bed in the corner.

There she was—Nanase-san, still in her uniform, face buried in her bedding.

She probably tried again and again to make herself go to school today, but couldn’t take that final step—and ended up like this.

The state of the room made that obvious.

“Nanase-san. I’m Sugita from your class. I’m going to turn on the light, okay?”

As I spoke, I found the switch and lit up the room.

That’s when I noticed the bedsheets I couldn’t see before—blurred with tear stains.

“First, I’m sorry for coming in without permission. If this makes you uncomfortable, you can call the police if you want.”

I came here ready for that. I was even ready to throw my life away if it came to it.

“For now, I’ll leave today’s handouts on your desk.”

As my excuse, I placed the papers I’d gotten from the teacher onto the desk.

“……”

Naturally, Nanase-san stayed silent. While I wondered if she was disgusted with me—or scared of me—the blanket covering her face shifted slightly.

Through the gap, I saw her bloodshot eyes. She confirmed it was me—then immediately hid her face again.

In that brief glimpse, her eyes looked like they’d already given up on everything in the world.

Of course, the person she wanted right now wasn’t me. It should’ve been Jinguuji.

She probably got sick of me the moment she saw my face.

“Go home.”

Nanase-san spoke suddenly in a hoarse voice.

It felt like she was saying, You’re not wanted here. No—she didn’t even need to say it out loud. It was written into the air.

If I stayed, I’d only disturb her state of mind further, so I silently turned around.

“Turn off the light.”

Her voice came again from under the blanket.

“Okay. Get well soon—”

I turned off the lights, left only that behind, and walked out of Nanase-san’s house.

※

At the very least, Jinguuji wasn’t going to show up at Nanase-san’s house in person.

He won’t come. No—he can’t.

Because there’s no need for him to take that kind of risk. The person involved in a public scandal showing up at her home would only put himself in danger.

Jinguuji is the type who avoids wasting effort.

He’s probably thinking he can just comfort her over LINE, take his time, and she’ll recover on her own. That it’s only a matter of time before she “falls.”

So I’ll take my time too—slowly filling the hole in her life.

※

The next day.

I bought food and drinks at a convenience store and visited Nanase-san’s house again.

Just like yesterday, the door was unlocked.

It didn’t feel like the home of someone who’d been stalked the day before.

I opened the door, passed through the entryway I’d seen yesterday, and there she was again—Nanase-san lying in bed, the exact same scene as before.

“Nanase-san.”

“……”

No answer.

“For now, I’ll leave the handouts, food, and drinks on the desk. If you don’t want them, you can throw them away.”

I turned my back to her.

I thought maybe she was asleep, but as if responding, the blanket rustled faintly.

“And one last thing. At least lock your door. Okay—bye.”

※

The next day, the door was unlocked.

But the food and drinks I’d left on the desk were gone.

I didn’t know whether she threw them away or ate them. Still, I left more handouts, food, and drinks, and went home.

The next day, and the day after that, and the day after that. Again and again, I came to her house.

It was nothing more than self-satisfaction. I didn’t think something like this could truly count as atonement.

Even so, I waited—until the day she would open her heart.

And then, about a week later—

Like always, I put the day’s handouts and the convenience store bag on the desk and started to leave, when she finally spoke to me for the first time.

“Why are you going this far for me?”

Chapter 24: The Will to Believe

“Why are you taking my side this much?”

Nanase-san’s voice—slightly stronger than the first time I came here—stopped my feet as I faced the door.

When I turned around, she was still burying her face in the futon.

I wondered if I’d misheard, and while I struggled to answer, she continued.

“Don’t you not have money?”

She was probably asking out of simple curiosity based on that “thief” label she’d heard from Jinguuji.

If I don’t have money, then why do I keep buying her food—she meant that.

“If you say I don’t… then yeah. I don’t, really.”

The truth is I’d already quit my part-time job.

“I’ll pay you back.”

For the first time, Nanase-san sat up, reaching into her school bag to pull out her wallet so she could return the food money.

I hurriedly stopped her.

“You don’t need to pay me back.”

“Why…?”

Her voice was so faint it felt like it might disappear.

Why…?

“I… want you to be happy, Nanase-san.”

I didn’t say “to atone.”

If I said that, it would almost sound like I’d time-leaped and knew things I shouldn’t.

From Nanase-san’s perspective, I’m just a random classmate—there’s nothing I should be apologizing for in the first place.

Nanase-san gave a dry little laugh and muttered, “What is that supposed to mean,” then put her wallet back into her bag.

“Like you’re…”

I could already guess what she was about to say.

Like—

“Like a stalker.” “Like some hero protagonist.”

“……”

Silence took over.

“Huh? What did you just say…?”

Unless I misheard, she said “hero,” a word that doesn’t suit someone like me at all.

“I said you’re like a hero. At least, I’m not going to call someone who worries this much about me a ‘stalker.’”

“I see…”

“Yeah.”

Nanase-san faced me properly, and we looked each other in the eyes.

The skin around her beautiful eyes was bright red—like the flames of her scandal—and the thought felt a little too cruel.

“Thank you again for worrying about me this much. And… I’m sorry it took me so long to say thanks.”

She bowed deeply, and I made her lift her head.

“It’s fine. This is just to fill my self-satisfaction.”

Nanase-san walked over toward the bed, and I thought she was going to lie back down—but instead she picked up the phone near her pillow.

“Ah. It’s here again.”

She stared at the screen, smiling faintly.

“From a friend?”

I asked out of plain curiosity—though I already knew the answer.

“It’s from Jinguuji-kun. Ever since I started staying home, he’s been sending me LINE every day.”

“What did he say today?”

“Today he wrote: ‘I’ll wait for you as long as it takes.’”

“I see…”

“My manager betrayed me too, and I felt like I couldn’t trust anyone anymore… but maybe I can trust you and Jinguuji-kun.”

“Your manager?”

The word came out of me as I repeated it.

“Maybe I can tell you…”

And then Nanase-san told me what happened after the stalker incident.

I’d always wondered how the stalker could identify Mizurin so easily.

But I’d been wrong at the root.

He didn’t “identify” her—he was connected to her exclusive manager.

Apparently the stalker bribed the manager and got the information that way.

A guy bold enough to chase her even after she moved probably offered an amount of money a student like me can’t even imagine.

“So that’s what happened…”

“Yeah. But thanks to you two, I’ve calmed down a lot.”

“Good.”

It wasn’t good—those were the words I said, but my real feelings were the opposite.

Even after all this, Nanase-san said she could “trust” me. But it’s not okay that she included him in that.

If anything, it’d be better if she trusted no one at all. Nanase-san is strong enough to recover even on her own.

But that’s not where we are. If things stay like this, we’ll head straight back toward the same future as before.

So I forced myself to be merciless and shove reality in front of her.

“Listen carefully. One of the people you trust… is a truly horrible person.”

Nanase-san’s expression changed instantly.

I kept going anyway.

“Kouki Jinguuji… he’s no good. He’ll hurt you. If you stay around him, your life will be trapped in total darkness.”

And inside that darkness, she’d be kept on a leash, losing her freedom.

A bird in a cage.

“That’s a lie! No way!”

Of course—Nanase-san, who didn’t know the truth, screamed her denial like she was turning away from reality.

The soundproofed walls swallowed her voice.

But I still didn’t stop.

“If you get involved with Jinguuji, you’ll cry in the near future. No—actually… it’s more like he already made you cry. While you were crying and suffering, Jinguuji was smiling. Like he was laughing at you.”

Maybe that last part was a little exaggerated, but it was close enough to the truth.

He sees everyone except himself and his heroines as background props.

As Nanase-san hung her head, I turned my back on her—only to feel something slam against it.

“Then who am I supposed to trust!?”

She pounded my back, tears spilling again from eyes she should’ve already cried dry, as she screamed.

Ah… then I’m no different from Jinguuji. I made her cry too. What kind of “atonement” is this?

This isn’t atonement at all.

Even so, I couldn’t find any other way but to force the truth on her like this.

“I… who am I supposed to trust…?”

At last she stopped hitting my back and collapsed to her knees.

“I… who…”

To the crushed girl in front of me, I said: