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

My first official afternoon as the "Special Assistant" felt like my first day at a new, terrifying job where the CEO was also my personal parole officer. Reina led me back to the Student Council office, the atmosphere between us thick with a new kind of tension. Her victory from the "Tart Incident" had been soured by Yui's unexpected tactical shift. The triumphant queen was now a suspicious ruler, wary of the new political player who had just emerged on the board.

"Your first official duty, Assistant Tanaka," she said, gesturing to a mountain of paperwork on a side table, "is to sort and file all club activity reports from the last semester. They must be cross-referenced by date and club type. The filing system is outlined in this binder." She dropped a three-inch binder full of complex organizational charts onto the desk.

It was a classic "new guy" task. Tedious, monumental, and designed to keep me busy and out of her way. It was perfect.

"Understood, President Kujou," I said, my voice a perfect monotone of professional deference. I picked up the binder and the first stack of reports. "I will begin my official duties at once."

I didn't sit in the 'assistant's chair' next to her. Instead, I took the reports to the far end of the long mahogany table—my old prisoner's spot—and began to work. It was a subtle but important act of creating physical and professional distance. I was not here to be her companion; I was here to perform a task.

Reina watched me, her crimson eyes narrowed. She had expected me to sit next to her, to be under her direct, physical sphere of influence. My choice to create distance was a small act of rebellion that did not go unnoticed. But she couldn't object; I was, after all, performing the duty she had assigned.

For the next hour, a strange, professional silence filled the room. The only sounds were the rustle of papers, the click of my stapler, and the scratch of Reina's pen. I focused on my task with a single-minded intensity I hadn't felt before. Every report I filed, every paper I stamped, was a small victory for the nation of "Kaito." I was building a fortress of bureaucracy, and its walls were made of paperwork.

The first test of my new persona came in the form of Asuka Miyamoto.

The door to the office burst open without a knock, and the fiery sports ace strode in. "Prez! I've reworked the budget proposal for the hurdles. I've included data on potential injury reduction and—"

She stopped short when she saw me at the end of the table, completely engrossed in my filing.

"Oh. Hey, Kaito," she said, her brash energy softening slightly. "Still alive after this morning's... team-building exercise?" she added with a wink.

I looked up, my face a carefully constructed mask of polite professionalism. "Miyamoto-san," I said, giving her a brief, formal nod. "Good afternoon."

Her grin faltered. My response was stiff, formal, completely unlike the flustered, friendly Kaito she was used to.

"Uh, yeah. Good afternoon," she replied, a little thrown off. She turned back to Reina. "Anyway, the budget—"

"All budget resubmissions must be filed through the proper channels, Miyamoto-san," I interrupted, my voice calm and steady. I tapped the binder on the table. "As per section C, subsection 4 of the Student Council bylaws, you'll need to fill out form 27B, attach it to your proposal, and place it in the submissions tray. The President will review it at her earliest convenience."

Asuka stared at me, her mouth agape. Reina stared at me, her pen frozen mid-stroke, a look of utter shock on her face.

I had just weaponized the very bureaucracy Reina had tried to bury me under. I wasn't her assistant; I was a gatekeeper. A public servant enforcing the rules.

"Form... 27B?" Asuka stammered, completely bewildered.

"You can find a copy in the main office," I said, my expression unchanging. "I'm afraid I cannot accept your proposal directly, as it would be a violation of procedure." I then looked back down at my work, a clear, polite dismissal. I was "too busy" with my "official duties."

Asuka stood there for a moment, utterly defeated not by Reina's arrogance, but by my sudden, impenetrable wall of red tape. With a frustrated groan, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind her.

The room was silent. I didn't look up, but I could feel Reina's eyes boring into me. I had just handled one of her most persistent rivals for her, using her own rules, without her having to say a single word. My "promotion" was already yielding unexpected dividends for her, but in a way that asserted my own professional space.

The second test came about thirty minutes later. A soft, hesitant knock at the door.

"Come in," Reina called, her voice still holding a note of surprise.

The door opened, and Shiori Akiyama peeked her head in, her violet eyes scanning the room nervously. "E-excuse me, President Kujou... Tanaka-kun..."

My heart skipped a beat. The dark horse candidate.

"Akiyama-san," I said, my voice still professionally calm, though it was harder this time. "How may the Student Council office assist you?"

"Oh! Um, I was just... I was on my way to the library," she stammered, clutching a book to her chest. "And I was wondering... Tanaka-kun, if you are not too busy... did you still want to... talk about... Rilke?" Her voice was a hopeful whisper.

My 'Campaign Manager's' voice screamed in my head. Public and professional! Invite a third party!

I gave her a polite, apologetic smile. "Akiyama-san, I would be delighted to discuss German literature at a later time. Unfortunately, as you can see," I gestured to the mountain of paperwork, "I am currently engaged in official duties for the council. My schedule is quite full for the remainder of the afternoon."

Her face fell, the hopeful light in her eyes dimming. I felt a pang of guilt, but I held my ground.

"However," I continued, deploying the strategy Yui had outlined. "I believe Hamasaki-san from our class also expressed an interest in improving her literary knowledge. Perhaps we could form a small study group? We could meet in the main library tomorrow during lunch. Would that be acceptable?"

I had done it. I had deflected the intimate "talk" into a mundane, public study group, and I had name-dropped Yui, signaling that it would not be a one-on-one encounter.

Shiori's disappointment was immediately replaced by a hesitant excitement. A group was less intimidating. And the fact that I was the one organizing it was a victory in itself. "Oh! Yes! A study group would be... wonderful," she whispered, a small, shy smile returning to her face. "Thank you, Tanaka-kun."

She gave a small bow and practically floated out of the room, leaving me feeling both like a brilliant strategist and a complete monster.

I risked a glance at Reina. She was watching me with a new, deeply unsettling expression. It was a mixture of suspicion, frustration, and grudging admiration. She had promoted me to control me, to bind me to her side. But instead, I was using my new position to professionally and politely manage my own burgeoning harem right under her nose. I was her 'Assistant,' but I was running my own campaign from her headquarters.

She had created a monster of bureaucracy, a creature of polite deflection. And she was starting to realize that my new "uniform" of professionalism was a more effective shield than any emotional outburst could ever be.

The fortress of Kaito was holding its ground. For now.