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

I stood on my lawn for a full minute after Reina disappeared and Mrs. Hamasaki went back inside. The plate of Nikujaga in my hands felt absurdly heavy, a peace offering from a family whose daughter I had just emotionally devastated. The savory aroma of the stew—a scent that usually meant comfort and home—now felt like the cloying smell of my own guilt.

My front door felt like the airlock to a hostile spaceship. On the other side wasn't just my living room; it was the first level of judgment. Pushing the key into the lock, I took a deep breath and stepped inside.

"I'm home," I called out, my voice weak.

"In the kitchen, Kaito!" my dad's voice boomed back.

My dad, Genji Tanaka, was a good man. An architect by trade, he was a creature of logic, right angles, and solid foundations. He approached life's problems the way he approached a blueprint: with careful measurement, a sharp pencil, and the firm belief that any issue could be solved with enough structural support. He did not, however, have a single schematic in his entire collection that could explain the emotional chaos that had just become my life.

I found him at the kitchen table, hunched over a set of blueprints, a half-empty mug of coffee next to his elbow. He looked up as I entered, his brow furrowed in concentration, but a warm smile broke through when he saw me.

"Hey, kiddo. Rough day?" he asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He had an uncanny ability to read my mood with a single glance.

"You could say that," I sighed, placing the Nikujaga on the counter. "Mrs. Hamasaki sent this over. Said Yui was feeling under the weather." I said the words carefully, testing the waters.

My dad's smile faded slightly. "Yeah, I heard. Poor kid. She came home from school early and went straight to her room. Didn't even say hello. That's not like her at all." He looked at me, a question in his eyes. He knew how inseparable Yui and I were. If she was upset, I was usually the cause or the cure.

Before I could formulate a non-committal answer, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Then it buzzed again. And again. And again.

I pulled it out, my stomach tightening with dread. The screen was lit up with a flood of notifications from LINE, the messaging app. They were all from one person.

Yui: We need to talk.

Yui: Now.

Yui: Who was she?

Yui: Don't you dare lie to me Kaito Tanaka.

Yui: I saw you with her.

Yui: 'A special project'? Is that what you call it?

Yui: And my mom? You brought her to my mom?

Yui: Answer me.

Yui: ANSWER ME KAITO

Each message was a digital punch to the gut. The final one was followed by a sticker of a cute, white rabbit holding a comically large, blood-soaked knife. It was, under different circumstances, hilarious. Right now, it was terrifying.

My thumb hovered over the screen, my mind blank with panic. What could I possibly type that would make this better?

It was an accident! (Lame.)

It's not what it looks like! (The classic liar's defense.)

She's blackmailing me because I saw her scream at a cat! (Clinically insane.)

"Problem?" my dad asked, his architect's-sense for faulty structures tingling.

"Uh, no, just... school stuff," I lied, quickly shoving the phone back in my pocket as if it were on fire.

He didn't look convinced. He took off his reading glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, shifting from 'Dad Mode' to 'Chief Investigator Mode'.

"Kaito," he said, his voice serious. "You and Yui have been joined at the hip since you were five. I've seen you two fight over the last popsicle, argue about which cartoon to watch, even get into a full-blown shouting match about the physics of a video game. But I have never seen her this upset. And you look like you just witnessed a building collapse. So, start from the beginning. What happened?"

Trapped under the fluorescent lights of my own kitchen, with nowhere to run, I did the only thing I could. I cracked.

I told him everything.

I started with the simple act of helping Shiori Akiyama pick up her books. I moved on to the catastrophic discovery of Reina Kujou's feline phobia in the alley. I described my "sentencing" and the first, surreal session of my Student Council detention. I explained the chain-reaction fall involving Ms. Sato, the disastrous timing of Yui's arrival, and the tragic, table-staining demise of the bento box. Finally, I detailed the humiliating 'prisoner transfer' walk home and Reina's strategic, diplomatic strike on Yui's front lawn.

As I spoke, my dad's expression shifted from paternal concern to mild confusion, then to utter, slack-jawed disbelief. He leaned back in his chair, his architect's mind trying to build a coherent structure out of the chaotic, illogical mess I had just described.

When I finished, silence hung in the kitchen, thick and heavy. My dad just stared at me, his mouth slightly open.

"Let me get this straight," he said finally, his voice slow and measured, as if he were re-reading a complex building code. "You have accidentally acquired the deepest, most embarrassing secret of the most powerful and feared girl in your school..."

"Yes," I mumbled.

"...who has sentenced you to indefinite after-school supervision to ensure your silence..."

"Correct."

"...during which you were inadvertently caught in a compromising, three-person pile-up with her and your P.E. teacher..."

"A regrettable but accurate summary," I sighed.

"...which was witnessed by your childhood best friend, who is now convinced you are cheating on a relationship you aren't actually in..."

"That's the gist of it."

"...and to cap it all off, your blackmailer then walked you home and charmingly introduced herself to your best friend's mother as a power move, thus cementing your guilt in the eyes of the one person whose opinion you actually care about?"

"You've nailed it," I said, burying my face in my hands. "When you lay it all out like that, it sounds even worse."

My dad was silent for a long time. He put his glasses back on, took them off again, and rubbed his eyes. He looked at the blueprints on the table, then back at me, as if trying to figure out which was more complicated.

"Kaito," he said, a strange mix of awe and terror in his voice. "I design buildings for a living. I have dealt with impossible clients, corrupt city officials, and foundations laid on unstable soil. But this... this structure you have built for yourself is the most spectacular, beautiful, and terrifyingly unstable thing I have ever encountered. It's a masterpiece of impending disaster."

My phone buzzed again, a single, ominous notification.

Yui: My window. Five minutes. Or I'm coming over.

I showed the message to my dad. His eyes widened.

"Son," he said, standing up and placing a firm, steadying hand on my shoulder. "You are dealing with forces beyond the comprehension of mortal men. My advice as an architect is this: reinforce your foundations, brace for impact, and for God's sake, whatever you do... don't lie. Just tell the truth. It's so ridiculous, she might actually believe it."

He patted my shoulder again. "I'll handle the Nikujaga. You go handle the... geopolitical crisis. And Kaito?"

"Yeah?"

"Good luck. You're going to need it."

With my father's blessing and the tactical advice of a man who builds skyscrapers, I trudged up the stairs to my room. The five-minute countdown had begun. I was about to walk, unarmed, into the heart of the storm.