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

The taste of raspberry and humiliation lingered on my tongue long after Reina had dismissed me from the conference room. I walked through the now-empty school hallways in a daze, the beautifully decorated pastry box clutched in my hands. Reina had insisted I take it. "Wastefulness is inefficient, Assistant Tanaka," she had said, her voice dripping with triumphant irony. "Enjoy your gift."

The box felt less like a collection of pastries and more like a war trophy from a battle I had decisively lost.

My phone, which had been silent, began to vibrate with the intensity of a small earthquake. I didn't need to look. I knew. The news was spreading. The witnesses at the door, Asuka and Ms. Mori, were Patient Zero in an epidemic of gossip that was about to sweep through Aobadai High with the speed and ferocity of a plague.

I stumbled out of the school building and into the late afternoon sun, my mind a hollow, buzzing void. My plan was to go home, crawl into bed, and maybe wake up next Tuesday.

But my plans, as always, were irrelevant.

Leaning against the school gate, arms crossed, her expression a mixture of disbelief, awe, and something I couldn't quite decipher, was Asuka Miyamoto.

"Dude," she said as I approached, her voice hushed. "I... I have no words. What was that? Are you her secret boyfriend? Her fiancé in a secret arranged marriage? Are you a foreign prince in disguise? There has to be a reason!"

"I am her 'Special Assistant'," I recited numbly, the words feeling like ash in my mouth. "And that was... a team-building exercise."

Asuka stared at me, then burst out laughing. "A team-building exercise?! Is that what they're calling it these days?" She shook her head, a wide, impressed grin on her face. "Man, I thought she was just an Ice Queen, but she's a full-on yandere possessive type, isn't she? That's intense. You are in deep."

She wasn't wrong.

"You can't tell anyone what you saw," I pleaded, my voice weak.

"Too late," she said, holding up her phone. "The track team group chat has already melted down. The soccer team knows. The cheerleaders are probably planning a funeral for your freedom as we speak. By tomorrow morning, the entire school will know that Reina Kujou fed you a raspberry tart like you were her pampered pet."

A wave of despair so profound it made my knees weak washed over me. "I need to go home," I mumbled, trying to push past her.

"About that," Asuka said, her expression turning a little more serious. "Your... uh... other friend. The one from the bakery."

My heart clenched. "Yui?"

"Yeah. She saw," Asuka said, her voice dropping. "Not the tart thing, I don't think. But she was waiting at the corner. She saw me and the nurse watching you two through the door. And then she saw you walk out with that box. The look on her face, man... it was scary. Like, 'quietly plotting a murder' scary. She just... turned and walked away. I don't think she's going home."

My stomach twisted into a painful knot. Yui wasn't at home, waiting to unleash her fury. She was out there, somewhere, hurt and betrayed and plotting. That was so much worse.

"Thanks for the warning," I said, my voice hoarse. I started walking, the pastry box feeling heavier than ever.

The walk home was a lonely one. Yui's house was quiet, her curtains drawn. It felt like a fortress that had pulled up its drawbridge. I entered my own house, the smell of my dad cooking dinner doing nothing to soothe my frayed nerves.

I went straight to my room, setting the box of pastries on my desk. They were a beautiful, delicious monument to my own destruction. I had no appetite.

I spent the next few hours staring at my ceiling, replaying the day's events. The promotion. The meeting. The care package. The tart. It was a cascade of disasters, each one worse than the last. My phone was a constant buzz of notifications from group chats I wasn't even in, all speculating about my relationship with the Student Council President.

Around 7 p.m., my dad called me down for dinner. I picked at my food, my mind elsewhere.

"Rough day at the new job?" he asked, his voice gentle. He had heard about my 'promotion'. The school gossip mill apparently had a parent-teacher branch.

"You could say that," I mumbled.

Just as we were finishing dinner, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," my dad said, getting up.

I heard the front door open, and then my dad's surprised voice. "Oh, Ms. Fujii! What a pleasant surprise. Is everything alright?"

My head snapped up. Ms. Fujii? Here? At my house?

"Good evening, Tanaka-san," I heard Ms. Fujii's warm, gentle voice. "I'm so sorry to bother you at home. But I was just going over some student files, and I... well, I was worried about Kaito-kun."

I stood up from the table, my heart pounding, and walked into the entryway. Ms. Fujii stood on my doorstep, a look of genuine, motherly concern on her face. She was holding a large, reusable grocery bag.

"Kaito-kun," she said, her expression softening as she saw me. "You look exhausted. I heard about your new position in the Student Council. That's a lot of responsibility on top of your regular studies. I was worried you weren't eating properly."

She held out the bag. "It's not much," she said, a faint blush on her cheeks. "Just some onigiri and a thermos of barley tea. I made too much for my own dinner. I thought... you might like some for your late-night studying."

I stared at the bag, then at her kind, worried face. This wasn't an act of war. This wasn't a power move. This was a simple, genuine act of kindness from a teacher who was worried about her student.

And it was, somehow, the most dangerous thing that had happened all day.

Yui's gift had been a public challenge. Reina's response had been a public declaration of ownership. But this... this was a quiet, personal intrusion into my home life. It was a different kind of claim, one based on nurturing and gentle concern.

"Sensei, you... you really didn't have to do this," I stammered, completely overwhelmed. "My dad just made dinner."

"Oh! Of course," she said, looking flustered. "I'm so sorry, I should have called. I wasn't thinking. I was just... worried."

My dad, bless his kind and completely clueless heart, stepped in. "Nonsense, Fujii-sensei! It's a wonderful gesture. Kaito is always studying late. I'm sure he'd love it. Please, won't you come in for a moment?"

"Oh, I couldn't possibly impose—" she started.

"Please," my dad insisted, ever the gracious host.

Ms. Fujii hesitated, then gave a small, shy nod and stepped inside, her gentle presence filling our small entryway.

And as my homeroom teacher stepped across my threshold, I felt a new, dawning horror.

I had been so focused on the war between Yui and Reina, on Asuka's brash advances and Ms. Mori's predatory games, that I had completely overlooked the quietest, most unassuming player on the board.

My detention with Reina was over. But I had just accidentally started a new one. A detention of the heart.

And my kind, gentle homeroom teacher was the new warden.