Second period.
Group project time.
The classroom buzzed with energy, students pushing desks together and arguing over roles.
Ren sat with three classmates—none of the girls from the harem. Just normal classmates.
And that was the problem.
Across the room, Yui watched from her group. Eyes narrowed.Rika leaned on her elbow, pretending not to look.Haruka didn't react, but her pencil snapped in half.Emi's hand paused mid-note.Mei stopped mid-sip of her tea bottle.
Ren didn't notice.
He was laughing.
The girl next to him—Kokoro Asano, a bright, loud, kind-of-flirty type—just made a stupid pun involving mitochondria and bananas.
He actually laughed.
Kokoro tapped his shoulder. "Hey, you should smile more. You're way cuter when you do."
Yui dropped her eraser.
It clattered loudly.
Everyone turned.
"…Sorry," she muttered, eyes on her desk.
Rika's smile faltered.
Haruka stood and walked out of the room without a word.
The teacher blinked. "Is she okay?"
Ren stood too. "I'll check—"
"No," Emi said, eyes calm but sharp. "Let her go."
He froze.
The girls said nothing more.
Kokoro leaned toward him, whispering: "You seriously are in the middle of something, huh?"
Ren didn't answer.
Because for the first time in days…
He felt the fire under the silence.
And it was starting to burn.
After class…
He found Haruka on the school roof, leaning against the fence.
She didn't look up.
"You laughed," she said softly.
"…Yeah?"
"With her."
"It was just a dumb joke."
"I haven't heard you laugh like that with me in weeks."
He stepped closer. "Haruka…"
"Don't," she said. "I know this is selfish. I know you're trying to be careful. But every day you act like this—like we're just background noise—"
She turned to him.
Eyes glossy. Fierce.
"It hurts more than rejection would."
Ren's chest twisted.
"…I didn't mean—"
"I know," she cut in. "You never do."
And just like that, she walked past him.
Downstairs, in the hallway…
Kokoro was laughing with another guy now.
Ren realized something:
It only took one laughto hurt the girls who'd waited through his silence.