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

The rest of our "study session" was a blur. The intellectual discussion of German poetry was completely forgotten, replaced by the hushed, frantic energy of a successful coup. Shiori, empowered by her own brilliant idea and my accidental use of her first name, was practically vibrating with a quiet, determined excitement. Yui, my ever-present campaign manager, was already scribbling in her notebook, outlining the strategic implications of my new "dual citizenship" between the Student Council and the Library Committee.

"This is a game-changer," Yui whispered to me as we packed up our things, while Shiori was happily reshelving Ms. Kimura's philosophy book. "An official, faculty-sponsored position gives you leverage. The Warden can't monopolize your time if you have conflicting, official duties. She'll have to negotiate. It forces her to recognize another power."

"It also puts me directly in the line of fire of two more candidates," I whispered back, my stomach churning.

"Calculated risk," Yui countered. "Better to be on a battlefield with multiple fronts than in a prison with a single guard. Now, remember the protocol. You don't tell her. You let the school's official channels do it for you. It has to come from a place of authority she can't easily dismiss."

Shiori returned, her face beaming. "I spoke to Kimura-sensei," she announced, her voice filled with a shy pride. "She thinks it's a wonderful idea. She said your 'intellectual curiosity would be a great asset to the library'. She's going to file the paperwork to have you officially appointed as a student library assistant, effective tomorrow."

Intellectual curiosity. I felt a fresh pang of guilt. My entire reputation as a secret genius was built on a foundation of lies, caffeine, and one night of desperate cramming.

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch and the beginning of my afternoon servitude. I gave my new allies a grim, determined nod and began the long walk back to the Student Council office. I felt like an ambassador for a fledgling nation on his way to present his credentials to a hostile, imperial power.

When I entered the office, Reina was standing by a large map of the school campus, moving small, colored pins around. She was clearly planning her strategy for the sports festival. She didn't look up when I came in.

"You are three minutes late, Assistant Tanaka," she said, her voice cool.

"My apologies, President Kujou," I replied, my voice steady and professional. "I was delayed finalizing the details of an inter-departmental scholastic initiative." It sounded much better than "getting a second job to escape you."

She finally turned, one perfect eyebrow arched. "An 'initiative'?"

"A study group," I clarified blandly. "Focused on improving student literacy scores in preparation for the national exams."

She stared at me, her crimson eyes trying to dissect my words, searching for the hidden strategy. She knew Yui was behind this, but she couldn't see the angle yet.

I didn't give her time to think. I immediately went to my pile of paperwork and resumed my duties as the world's most diligent file clerk. For the rest of the afternoon, I was a model of bureaucratic efficiency. I answered the phone with perfect, formal pleasantries. I sorted reports with a focused intensity. I was a rock. A fortress. A boring, impenetrable wall of professionalism.

I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Shiori had said Ms. Kimura was filing the paperwork. It was only a matter of time before the official notification reached the desk of the Student Council President.

It happened at precisely 4:15 p.m.

One of the student council cronies, the severe-looking boy with glasses, entered the office holding a single sheet of paper in a formal document holder.

"President," he said, his voice flat. "An official notice from the Library Committee, care of Kimura-sensei."

My heart stopped. This was it.

Reina took the document, her expression neutral. She opened it and began to read. I pretended to be completely engrossed in alphabetizing club budget requests, but I was watching her reflection in the polished surface of the mahogany table.

I saw her eyes scan the page. I saw her posture stiffen. I saw her knuckles turn white as her grip on the paper tightened. I saw a flicker of pure, unadulterated fury flash in her eyes before it was instantly suppressed, replaced by her icy, controlled mask.

The document was a formal request, a declaration of my new status. It would have politely informed the Student Council that one of its members, Kaito Tanaka, had been appointed to a position on the Library Committee and that his time would now need to be shared, as per school regulations regarding students with multiple official posts.

It was a brilliant, unassailable bureaucratic attack. Shiori and Ms. Kimura had used the school's own rules to box Reina in.

After a long, tense silence, Reina placed the document on her desk. She looked up, her gaze locking onto me. Her expression was terrifyingly calm.

"Assistant Tanaka," she said, her voice dangerously soft. "It seems your... 'talents'... are in high demand."

"I am honored to serve the school in any capacity I am able," I replied, my voice steady, my heart hammering like a drum solo.

"Indeed," she said, a slow, cold smile spreading across her face. It was not a happy smile. It was the smile of a predator that has just seen its prey reveal a surprising, interesting new defense mechanism. "Dual citizenship. A bold diplomatic move. Your... campaign manager... is more resourceful than I anticipated."

She stood up and walked over to me, her presence radiating an almost palpable pressure. She stopped right in front of my desk, looking down at me.

"This creates a scheduling conflict," she stated simply. "Your duties to this office are paramount. Your duties to the library are secondary. However, as President, I must respect the official appointments of other faculty members. A compromise must be reached."

She tapped her chin, her mind working with terrifying speed. "Therefore, your schedule will be adjusted. You will spend Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays here, as my assistant. You will spend Tuesdays and Thursdays in the library, performing your duties there."

It seemed... reasonable. Too reasonable. I eyed her with suspicion. Where was the trap?

"Furthermore," she continued, and her cold smile widened. "To ensure there are no... lapses in communication or conflicts of interest between these two vital school departments, it is imperative that the leadership maintains an open dialogue."

"What... what does that mean?" I asked, a sense of dread crawling up my spine.

"It means," she declared, her voice filled with a chilling, triumphant glee, "that on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I will be conducting my personal study and paperwork... in the library. To 'liaise' with the Library Committee and to 'supervise' my assistant in his auxiliary role. It is, after all, my duty to ensure my staff are performing admirably in all their endeavors."

My jaw dropped.

She had done it again. I had built a sanctuary, a safe haven, a fortress of solitude in the library, and she had just announced her intention to move her entire command headquarters into it twice a week.

She hadn't fought the new development. She hadn't rejected it. She had embraced it, co-opted it, and turned it into another tool for my surveillance. There was no escape. She was expanding her empire.

"I look forward to a productive and collaborative relationship with the Library Committee," she said, her eyes sparkling with the thrill of the game. "I am sure we will all... learn a great deal from one another."

She turned and walked back to her desk, leaving me sitting in the ruins of my brilliant plan, a newly-appointed dual citizen whose two countries were now about to be occupied by the same invading force.