I Accidentally Built a Harem of Girls Who All Hate Each Other

The "Super-Ganbare Energy-Up" care package sat on the conference table like a declaration of independence. Its sweet, buttery aroma filled the room, a stark contrast to the icy, hostile atmosphere that had just descended. Every person in the room was staring at it, then at me, then at Reina, waiting to see who would make the first move.

I felt like a man strapped to a bomb while two opposing armies decided whether to cut the red wire or the blue one. My instinct was to shove the box under the table, to hide it from sight, but it was too late. The damage was done. The shot had been fired.

Reina Kujou's composure was a thing of terrifying beauty. Her face, which had been a mask of cold fury, smoothed over into a placid, almost serene calm. It was the calm of a dormant volcano, the quiet before a catastrophic eruption.

"Well," she said, her voice dangerously soft as she turned her attention back to the meeting agenda, completely ignoring the pastry-shaped elephant in the room. "As we were discussing before that... unnecessary interruption, the budget for cheerleading uniforms is demonstrably excessive. We will be cutting it by forty percent."

It was a power move of the highest order. She was demonstrating that a mere delivery, a mere act of war from a "commoner" like Yui, was not enough to derail her, was not enough to even merit a direct response. She was above it.

But her eyes, when they briefly flickered towards me, told a different story. They burned with a cold, controlled fire that promised retribution.

The meeting continued, but the focus was gone. The air was thick with unspoken tension. Asuka kept shooting me amused, questioning glances. Ms. Mori watched me with a calculating, predatory curiosity, as if I had just become a much more interesting puzzle. Ms. Sato just looked tired, as if my very existence was physically draining her.

I continued to take my minutes, my hand trembling slightly. Item 7: Discussion of cheerleading budget. Item 8: An act of pastry-based psychological warfare is deployed by Enemy Combatant 'Angel'. Warden's fury levels have reached critical. Collateral damage imminent.

When the meeting finally, mercifully, concluded, a collective sigh of relief seemed to pass through the room. Everyone began to file out quickly, eager to escape the charged atmosphere.

"Tanaka."

Reina's voice was quiet, but it cut through the room like a shard of ice. "A word."

I froze. The others scurried out, Asuka giving me a final, pitying thumbs-up before disappearing. Soon, it was just the two of us in the sterile conference room, alone with the beautifully decorated weapon of mass destruction.

She stood up and walked slowly, deliberately, around the table until she was standing right in front of me. She looked down at the box from "Angel's Bakery."

"She is clever," Reina said, her voice a low, analytical murmur. "I will grant her that. This was not a simple, emotional outburst. This was a calculated strategic maneuver. It was public. It was disruptive. It was designed to undermine my authority and reassert her claim on you in a way that makes her look caring and supportive, and me look like a tyrant."

She had dissected Yui's motive with terrifying accuracy.

"I... I didn't ask for it," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

"That is irrelevant," she snapped, her cold composure finally cracking. "You are the territory being contested! Your compliance is not a factor!" She took a deep, steadying breath, regaining her control. "This cannot be allowed to stand. An act of aggression of this magnitude requires an immediate and overwhelming response."

"Response?" I squeaked. "What kind of response? Please don't declare war on a bakery."

A faint, cruel smile touched her lips. "No," she said. "Nothing so crude."

She reached down and, with a delicate, precise motion, she untied the ribbon on the box. She lifted the lid.

Inside was a breathtaking assortment of pastries. Golden-brown croissants, delicate fruit tarts, perfectly swirled cinnamon buns, and rich, dark chocolate eclairs. They were professional-grade. Yui hadn't just baked; she had created edible art.

"Impressive," Reina admitted, a flicker of genuine surprise in her eyes. "Her domestic skills are formidable."

Then, she looked at me, her crimson eyes gleaming with a sudden, brilliant, and utterly diabolical idea. "You are my assistant, are you not, Tanaka-kun?"

"P-provisionally," I stammered.

"And as my assistant, your well-being reflects upon me," she continued, her voice taking on a magnanimous, almost generous tone. "It is my duty to ensure you are not overworked. That you are... appreciated."

She picked up one of the delicate raspberry tarts, holding it between her long, elegant fingers.

"Therefore," she said, her voice as smooth as silk. "As your superior and benefactor, I will assist you with your... excessive number of gifts."

And then she did the most shocking thing I could have possibly imagined.

She brought the tart to my lips.

My entire world stopped. My brain ceased to function. Reina Kujou, the Ice Queen, the tyrant, The Warden, was standing an inch away from me, her eyes locked on mine, holding a pastry to my mouth, offering to feed it to me.

"Eat," she commanded, her voice a soft, hypnotic whisper.

I was paralyzed. This was insane. This wasn't a response to Yui; this was a nuclear counter-strike. Yui had sent a public gift. Reina was retaliating with an act of shocking, unbelievable public intimacy. Except we weren't in public. We were alone.

...Or were we?

I saw a flicker of movement in the reflection on the conference room's large window. The door, which I had thought was closed, was actually open a crack. And peeking through that crack were several pairs of eyes. I could make out Asuka's spiky red hair. I could see the glint of Ms. Mori's knowing smirk. They hadn't left. They had stayed to watch the fallout. And Reina, the master strategist, knew it. She had to have known. This wasn't a private moment. This was a performance.

This was her checkmate.

If I refused, I would be publicly disobeying and humiliating my new 'boss', cementing my status as a disloyal subordinate.

If I accepted... if I let her feed me... the message it would send to the onlookers, and therefore the entire school, would be catastrophic. It would confirm everyone's worst suspicions. That I wasn't her assistant. That I was her property. Her... something else.

"I said... eat," she repeated, her voice firm, pushing the tart gently against my lips. The sweet scent of raspberry filled my senses.

My mind was screaming. My 'Noodle' training was a distant memory. My alliance with 'Angel' was a smoking crater. I was alone, outmaneuvered, and completely, utterly trapped.

With a sense of profound, world-ending doom, my mouth opened.

I took a bite of the tart.

It was sweet, tangy, and tasted exactly like my own damnation.

Through the window's reflection, I saw Asuka's jaw drop. I saw Ms. Mori's smirk widen into a look of genuine, predatory delight.

Reina pulled her hand back, a small, triumphant smile on her face. She had won this battle in the most devastating way possible. She hadn't just neutralized Yui's attack; she had co-opted it, turned it into her own weapon, and used it to bind me even closer to her in the eyes of the entire school.

"Good boy," she whispered, her voice filled with a chilling satisfaction. She picked up a chocolate eclair for herself. "A leader must always be willing to share in the spoils of war."