Heroine in Trouble? I Take Advantage, Ch 47-49

Chapter 47 – Special Admission to Todai! The Next Target… Eriri!

Three days later.

Monday.

Morning assembly at Toyonozaki High School.

The principal stepped up to the podium, cleared his throat, and announced in a booming voice,

"Students! Teachers! I have some amazing news to share!"

"This weekend, we’ll be honored to welcome a very special guest back to our alma mater. He’ll be giving an exclusive talk to all of you!"

He paused dramatically, letting the suspense build, then shouted,

"The guest is none other than the winner of the 61st Edogawa Ranpo Prize, and the author of the phenomenal light novel A Certain Magical Index—"

He took a deep breath, then roared the name:

"—Seiji Fujiwara!!"

Boom—!!!

After a single stunned heartbeat of silence, the entire field exploded into a deafening roar.

"I knew it!"

"Right?! When I saw the livestream that day, I was shook!"

"I can’t believe that genius author is our senior!"

"Fujiwara-sensei is my idol! I have to get his autograph! No, wait—his photo! I’m getting a photo with him!"

The news spread like wildfire across the entire campus.

For those who had once crossed paths with Seiji Fujiwara, the shock hit even harder.

In the school corridor—

Several boys who used to hang out with Utaha Kasumigaoka—and had once harbored dreams about her—were now gathered together, faces pale with despair.

"My youth… it’s over," one muttered hollowly, leaning against the wall.

"I should’ve known… a guy who could win over Kasumigaoka-senpai could never be ordinary…"

"I used to think that once I got into Waseda, I’d finally have a fair chance with him. What a joke." The bespectacled honors student buried his face in his hands.

"Compete? Yeah right. Go to bed, man," another guy snorted bitterly.

All the boys who once fantasized about Utaha had completely given up.

Their eyes toward Seiji Fujiwara no longer held jealousy—only reverence.

A beauty like her belonged only to the strong.

And Fujiwara Seiji—whether in talent, looks, or social standing—was a force of nature.

Unrivaled.

In the teachers’ office—

Fujiwara’s homeroom teacher, Mr. Sasaki, was surrounded by a crowd of excited colleagues.

He wore a smug, barely restrained grin as he recounted his “memories” of teaching Fujiwara.

"Mr. Sasaki, that’s incredible! You taught him?!"

"Yeah, come on, tell us what he was like as a student!"

"Did he show signs of genius early on?"

Mr. Sasaki waved his hands modestly, though his eyes gleamed with pride.

"I saw it coming, honestly! Fujiwara might’ve been quiet in class, but his eyes—they were different. Sharp, full of insight, far beyond his years!"

"I just knew he’d become someone great!"

Of course, what he was actually thinking was: Thank God I never underestimated that kid back then… otherwise I’d be the laughingstock of the whole school right now.

In the Art Club room—

Eriri Spencer Sawamura sat frozen in front of her easel.

"Fujiwara-senpai…"

"Or should I say, Prince Warukawa? Or… the Edogawa Ranpo Prize winner!?"

"I can’t believe it… he’s really our upperclassman!"

Eriri murmured to herself in disbelief.

She’d seen the news when Seiji revealed his identity at the award ceremony, and the shock had been enormous.

Even now, the feeling hadn’t faded.

"This level… I’m still nowhere close."

Staring at her own illustration, Eriri gave a small, self-deprecating smile.

She once dreamed of being the illustrator for Warukawa-sensei’s novels. Looking back now, that dream felt absurdly naive.

"But I can’t slack off!"

"Come on, Eriri! You’ve gotta work harder!"

Her blue eyes reignited with fierce determination.

The day before the speech—

Inside the principal’s office, Seiji Fujiwara sat leisurely on the guest sofa.

The principal himself poured his tea, while several department heads stood nearby, all wearing deferential smiles.

"Fujiwara-kun, thank you so much for agreeing to give this lecture!" The principal’s tone was full of respect—not toward a student, but toward someone of far higher status.

Seiji waved it off casually. "Let’s skip the pleasantries, Principal. Just say what you really came for."

The principal exchanged glances with the board members, then suddenly stood and bowed.

"Fujiwara-kun! To support your creative work, the school board has unanimously decided—"

"From today onward, you are officially exempt from all attendance and exam requirements at Toyonozaki!"

"And we have just one small request," he added with a sycophantic smile.

"We’d be deeply honored if you could occasionally mention, in public, that you graduated from Toyonozaki High."

Seiji chuckled. So that’s their angle.

A famous alumnus was worth its weight in gold—especially for admissions, in this age of declining birth rates.

"Sure, I don’t mind," he agreed smoothly.

After all, it was true—he had graduated from Toyonozaki.

And with his current fame, even if he didn’t mention it, someone else would.

Plus, skipping classes and exams? That was just a nice bonus.

"Thank you, Fujiwara-kun!!"

The principal’s eyes lit up with joy. He could already see next year’s enrollment numbers skyrocketing—

Gifted students flooding in!

Government funding pouring down like rain!

Fujiwara Seiji’s name dominated the headlines, and soon the nation was caught up in the same burning question:

—Which university would the prodigy choose?

Admissions offices at Japan’s top schools—Waseda, Keio, Sophia, and more—scrambled into action.

Letters, offers, and special invitations piled up at Fushikawa Bunko like snowdrifts.

Inside the Chief Editor’s office at Fushikawa Bunko—

Ryuji Aida and Sonoko Machida stared in disbelief at the mountain of gilded envelopes on the desk.

"Chief, we’ve already got seven or eight designated universities asking for him—and that’s not counting the near-elite ones!" Machida said, still dazed.

"What can we do?" Ryuji rubbed his temples. "Sort them all out and send them to Fujiwara-sensei. Let him pick."

"Wait, hold on!"

The door opened suddenly. The company chairman’s secretary walked in, looking tense, holding an envelope.

"And I’ve been asked to tell you—the group is willing to arrange a personal research position for him under any professor he chooses."

Ryuji frowned and tore open the envelope—then froze. His hand trembled.

"T-Tokyo University?!"

Machida gasped when she saw the gold-embossed seal.

Even Ryuji’s expression turned incredulous.

They’d expected top universities to reach out—but Todai? The apex of Japan’s academic pyramid?

"My god…" Machida murmured. "When was the last time Todai’s Faculty of Letters gave a special admission to a novelist?"

"Not just a novelist," Ryuji said solemnly. "They’re drawn to his cultural influence—the kind that moves millions of young people. Fujiwara-sensei isn’t just a writer anymore. He’s a phenomenon."

He immediately grabbed his phone to call Seiji.

Inside Seiji’s apartment—

"Todai, huh?"

"Heh. Got it."

"I understand Fushikawa’s stance. I’ll think it over."

Seiji hung up the call without surprise.

An 18-year-old Ranpo Prize winner—of course even Tokyo University would want him.

But to Seiji Fujiwara, who had lived two lives, a university was… just a university.

With his current fame and achievements, it was no exaggeration to say—

it wasn’t he who would be honored to attend a university,

but the university that would be honored to have him.

Not even Todai was an exception.

Beside him, Utaha Kasumigaoka, dressed in a simple home kimono, stared at him wide-eyed.

"T-Todai…!?"

For a born-and-raised Japanese like her, Tokyo University was a near-mythic dream.

"Of course. Only a place like that would suit him," she murmured.

Though she herself was top-tier academically, her ceiling was somewhere around Keio or Waseda.

Todai was still out of reach.

"Congratulations, Seiji," she said gently, peeling a mandarin orange and offering a slice to his lips with a smile.

"That’s all?" Seiji bit into the fruit—and playfully nipped her finger, smirking.

Utaha’s lips curved into a mesmerizing smile. "It doesn’t have to be just that."

And what followed needed no narration.

The next day – Toyonozaki High School Auditorium

Seiji Fujiwara stood on stage, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit that emphasized his tall, elegant frame.

One hand in his pocket, the other holding the mic, he exuded calm dominance.

Though only eighteen, his aura of effortless control eclipsed even the school’s top administrators.

In the crowd, every student—whether the model scholar or the delinquent—looked up at him with reverent awe.

Too young.

Too dazzling.

His handsome, almost celebrity-like face, combined with the titles Ranpo Prize Winner, Light Novel King, Multi-Millionaire—

made him seem less like a human being and more like a living god.

In a society obsessed with strength and success, Seiji Fujiwara was divine.

"I’ll keep this short," his voice rang out.

"Humans live with desire. To deny it is to deny life itself. Embrace your desires. Chase them. That’s what gives you the power to live fully."

"To fight—to struggle—is simply to recognize your own desires, and work hard to fulfill them."

His words echoed through the hall—half inspirational fluff, half performance, perfectly tuned for youthful ears.

As he spoke, Seiji’s gaze swept across the audience. Most faces blurred together—unremarkable.

Until his eyes paused.

Among the sea of students stood a golden-haired girl, twin tails swaying, eyes bright and unyielding.

Her doll-like face, porcelain skin, and those blue eyes sparkling with excitement—

she shone like a gem amidst the crowd.

Even among thousands, Seiji spotted her instantly.

At that same moment, the girl stared back at him, breath hitching.

It’s really him!

Fujiwara-sensei!

He’s even more handsome in person!

And that aura…!

Her heart pounded wildly.

She could hear the whispers and squeals of girls around her, but she forced herself to stay composed.

Calm down, Eriri Spencer Sawamura!

Don’t forget your manners!

Even if the family’s fallen on hard times, don’t lose your poise!

She kept lecturing herself, but her blue eyes couldn’t look away.

He was her idol—her inspiration—standing right there, breathing the same air.

When Seiji’s gaze swept past her section, their eyes met for a fleeting instant.

Boom!

Eriri’s mind went blank.

H-he looked at me?!

Her face flushed crimson. She quickly lowered her head, unable to meet his eyes again.

Onstage, Seiji’s system interface flickered to life for the first time in a while.

[Ding! High-value target detected!]

Name: Eriri Spencer Sawamura

Value: SSR

A faint smirk tugged at his lips.

So she really was as beautiful as the rumors said—one of Toyonozaki’s “Two Great Beauties,” alongside Utaha.

Perfect.

The next target… is Eriri.

He was a man who followed his desires.

And what man didn’t love beautiful girls—especially ones straight out of anime perfection?

Seiji Fujiwara always had, and always would.

Later that afternoon – Rooftop

The breeze was gentle, the sunlight warm.

Seiji lounged lazily on the bench, savoring the bento that Utaha was feeding him.

Life was good.

Recently, Sonoko Machida had sent over a pair of travel tickets to Hokkaido. Utaha was already packing for their upcoming trip next week.

Having fully accepted her place by Seiji’s side, she was radiant—her every move exuding sweetness.

"I added a little extra mirin to the tamagoyaki today. Tell me if it’s too sweet."

Her voice was soft and melodic as she lifted a golden slice of egg to his lips.

Her eyes shimmered with affection, her smile as intoxicating as ever.

Chapter 48 – Kasumigaoka-senpai, I Can Be the Side Girl!

Seiji Fujiwara took a satisfied bite of the bento that Utaha had lovingly prepared for him. With his other hand, he lazily pulled out his phone and opened Toyonozaki High’s student forum.

He typed one name into the search bar: “Eriri Sawamura.”

Within seconds, dozens of threads popped up.

[Debate] Kasumigaoka Utaha vs. Sawamura Eriri — Who’s the Real Queen of Toyonozaki?

[Breaking] The young lady Eriri seems short on cash lately… she’s actually working part-time at a convenience store?!

[Deep Dive] Rumor has it the Sawamura family’s mansion was seized—what’s going on?!

Seiji blinked, surprised for a moment before falling into thought.

So, Eriri too, huh?

Utaha’s situation had already deviated from the original story.

And now Eriri’s had as well.

Could it be that, in this world, all the heroines started out as ordinary girls?

A faint smirk tugged at his lips. That just makes things easier.

Then his mind drifted to another girl—another heroine from Saekano: Megumi Kato.

Too bad Kato’s presence is still practically invisible.

Not even a single post about her on the forum—not one photo, not even a name mention.

I haven’t seen her around school either.

Just as he was thinking that, the air beside him turned cold.

Utaha’s hand, midair with a piece of fried chicken, froze.

She’d caught a glimpse of his phone screen—the bright, smiling face of Eriri, framed by those flashy headlines.

A bitter, jealous chill spread from her chest.

She set her chopsticks down slowly. The warmth in her fox-like eyes iced over.

Utaha’s smile was thin, sharp-edged. “Heh. Our great author Fujiwara really doesn’t waste any energy, does he? Eating the bento I made for you while ogling some half-cooked meat in another pot. Aren’t you afraid you’ll choke trying to chew both at once?”

Seiji didn’t even look away from his phone. His tone was calm.

“Yeah. I’m interested in her.”

He didn’t bother to hide it.

“Not just her, though.”

Turning his head, he met Utaha’s eyes with a teasing smile. “There are plenty of beautiful girls I’m interested in.”

“My goal is to build a real, everlasting harem that belongs only to me.”

“When that time comes, Utaha, I hope you’ll get along with all your sisters.”

Boom.

Utaha’s brain went completely blank.

Harem…?

She stared at him in disbelief.

She’d always known that genius men—especially the rich, brilliant ones—had wandering eyes. In Japan’s upper circles, that was practically an unspoken rule.

But to hear Seiji say it so boldly—to her face—like it was the most natural thing in the world…

What did he take her for?!

A madam managing his women? Some glorified housekeeper for his so-called harem?!

Utaha crossed her arms tightly, her long legs in black stockings bouncing irritably.

Seeing her bristle like that, Seiji didn’t back down—he leaned in.

“Oh right,” he added lightly, “since you’re a girl, maybe you could find out what exactly happened to her family. I’m curious about this ‘fallen from grace’ story.”

Swish.

Utaha’s gaze turned razor-sharp, stabbing into him.

Memories flashed in her mind—of her own desperate situation, her mother’s illness, and how this same man had “rescued” her with money.

And now, he wanted to do it again—to another girl.

And have her play accomplice?

Not a chance.

Her eyes filled with open disgust, as if she were looking at the scum of the earth.

Without a word, she closed her bento and stood up, walking away.

Seiji only chuckled, unfazed. He picked up his chopsticks again, eating slowly as he scrolled through the forum.

Elsewhere, Utaha sat alone in a quiet corner, finishing her lunch without appetite.

Every time she pictured Seiji’s smug face, anger bubbled up again.

She exhaled sharply, then took out her phone and dialed a number.

“Mom…” Her voice was calm, controlled.

“Utaha? Calling at this hour—did something happen at school?” came her mother’s warm, concerned voice.

“Nothing happened. I just… miss you. Can I stay over tonight?”

“Of course, sweetheart! I’ll make your favorite dishes!”

“Mm.”

After chatting for a while, Utaha hung up feeling lighter. She was actually looking forward to tonight—

a night away from Seiji Fujiwara’s insufferable face.

But on the other end of the call, Mrs. Kasumigaoka’s expression grew pensive.

Her daughter suddenly wanting to stay over? That could only mean trouble with that man.

As an adult, she could guess the rest.

Her eyes drifted to the TV, where a news replay was running.

Onscreen, a tall, striking young man stood on stage, accepting the Edogawa Ranpo Prize.

The headline blazed across the screen:

“The Youngest Winner in History! The Rise of the Cross-Media Prodigy, Seiji Fujiwara!”

Mrs. Kasumigaoka’s gaze deepened.

At first, she’d assumed the man supporting her daughter was some spoiled rich kid. She’d felt both grateful for his money and worried for her daughter’s future.

But now she knew—he was a famous, brilliant young author with limitless potential.

Her perspective shifted completely.

In a society obsessed with hierarchy, a man with talent, looks, and fame was worth far more than any second-generation heir.

Men like that—having multiple women was practically expected.

To be loved by such a man… that wasn’t disgrace.

It was fortune.

I’ll have to make Utaha understand that, she decided firmly.

Later that afternoon – School Gate

The bell had just rung, and students trickled out in groups.

In the parking lot sat Seiji’s newly purchased sedan—sleek, simple, and parked in his reserved spot. One of the perks Toyonozaki offered its star alumnus.

Tap, tap, tap.

Utaha stepped out of the building, schoolbag slung over her shoulder.

“Utaha, get in. I’ll drive us home,” Seiji called, leaning casually against the car, one hand on the door, his smile effortless.

The late sunlight gilded his already handsome features, making him look like something out of a movie. Girls walking by couldn’t help but steal glances, whispering in awe.

Utaha, however, only felt her irritation spike.

“No thanks, oh great author,” she replied, deliberately emphasizing the title. “I’m going home to visit my dear mother tonight. You’ll have to survive without me.”

Seiji raised an eyebrow, feigning a sigh. “That’s too bad. Guess I’ll be sleeping alone tonight.”

He paused, then asked lightly, “So when are you coming back? I’d hate to wait too long.”

Utaha’s glare could’ve frozen the sun. “That depends on someone realizing how disgusting his little fantasies are. Once that happens, maybe I’ll consider it.”

She wasn’t afraid of him. She knew Seiji’s temperament by now—he had endless patience for his own women. As long as she didn’t cross his bottom line, a bit of attitude wouldn’t make him angry.

“I’m not changing my mind,” Seiji said simply.

“Is that so?”

Utaha smirked coldly. We’ll see who gives in first, you perverted bastard.

He’d cave soon enough—he always did. Especially after she’d agreed to that new “game” he’d wanted to try and hadn’t yet delivered on. Let him stew a little.

She’d let him suffer, crawl back, and beg. And when he did, she’d make sure to humiliate him properly.

But Seiji only smiled, serene and confident. “Won’t be long before you come back on your own, Utaha.”

“Impossible!” she shot back instantly. Then, narrowing her eyes, added, “As long as you don’t use your usual dirty tricks, that’s a promise!”

“Heh.” Seiji chuckled under his breath. “I won’t need tricks for this one.”

She thought he was bluffing.

But what she didn’t realize was that Seiji Fujiwara was no longer just some upstart light novel author.

The fame from the Edogawa Ranpo Prize, the massive fanbase of the “Light Novel King,” the absurd amount of wealth—

all of it combined into something far more powerful than mere money.

Influence. Momentum. The kind that bent the world around him.

And soon, Utaha would learn that the hard way.

“Fine then!” she huffed, tilting her chin up like a proud black swan. “No tricks. We’ll see who wins!”

With that, she spun around, her long black hair swaying behind her as she strode into the crowd, leaving only her graceful silhouette.

Seiji watched her go, the corner of his mouth curling upward.

Utaha’s doomed to lose this one.

That night – Kasumigaoka Residence

“Welcome home, Utaha!”

Mrs. Kasumigaoka greeted her daughter warmly, apron still on, pulling her into a hug.

“I’m back,” Utaha smiled faintly, stepping inside. The cozy apartment smelled of home-cooked food.

“Wash your hands. Dinner’s ready—your favorites!”

“Okay.”

Bathed in that familiar warmth, Utaha’s tense heart finally began to relax. She let herself enjoy the rare peace, chatting and laughing with her mother through dinner.

Later, they sat together on the couch, watching TV as commercials played.

That was when Mrs. Kasumigaoka casually asked, “Utaha, did you have a fight with Fujiwara-kun?”

Here it comes.

Utaha sighed inwardly—there was no hiding it.

Setting down her cup of tea, she told her mother everything: Seiji’s shameless talk of a harem, his arrogance, his audacity.

“Mom, can you believe him? What does he take me for? He knows how I feel, and yet—”

She expected her mother to side with her—to be angry, indignant.

Instead, Mrs. Kasumigaoka fell silent for a long moment. Then she sighed softly, taking Utaha’s hand.

“Utaha, dear… men like Fujiwara-kun aren’t like ordinary men.”

Utaha’s eyes widened.

Her mother continued gently, “Since ancient times, great writers have always been… passionate. Their worlds are too big for one person to contain. Having a few women around them—it’s not unusual.”

“As long as you’re the one he cherishes most, and he always comes home to you… isn’t that enough?”

Utaha stared, stunned.

What…?

Her mother—the woman she respected most—was telling her to just… accept it?

To share him?

Mrs. Kasumigaoka winced at her daughter’s look but pressed on. “Listen to me, Utaha. A man like Fujiwara-kun—talented, handsome, with a limitless future—he’s someone countless women would kill to be with. You’re lucky to be his first. Don’t throw that away over pride.”

“Enough!”

Utaha shot to her feet, trembling with anger and disbelief.

Even from her mother, she couldn’t stomach those words.

Without another word, she stormed off to the guest room and slammed the door shut.

The conversation ended in silence.

That night, Utaha lay awake, staring at the ceiling, fury and confusion twisting inside her.

The next morning

Utaha left her mother’s apartment without a word.

Seiji hadn’t called or texted. And she didn’t plan to, either.

She stopped at a convenience store for a quick breakfast, then headed toward the school gate—just in time to see him.

And surrounding him… was chaos.

“Good morning, Fujiwara-senpai!”

“Senpai, I made this bento for you—please take it!”

“Fujiwara-kun! Want to hit karaoke after school?”

A small crowd of Toyonozaki girls encircled him, chattering and giggling, their faces glowing with excitement.

Utaha felt her blood pressure spike. A bunch of shameless vixens!

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her posture and strode forward. Surely, her presence would scatter them.

Except—it didn’t.

If anything, the girls’ excitement intensified.

One bold short-haired girl even turned toward Utaha and shouted,

“Kasumigaoka-senpai! We don’t mind sharing him!”

“Yeah! You’re so understanding—you won’t get jealous, right?”

“We can be the side girls!”

“Right! He’s the pride of Japan! It’s selfish to keep him all to yourself!”

Buzz.

Utaha’s entire worldview shattered for the second time.

Be the side girls?!

They’re saying that out loud? In front of me?

What the hell is wrong with today’s high school girls?!

Her hands clenched at her sides, trembling with fury.

And across the crowd, Seiji Fujiwara only smiled faintly—like a king surrounded by his worshipers.

Chapter 49 – Getting Utaha to Approve My Harem Is Way Too Easy

Seiji Fujiwara watched the scene before him with mild amusement.

He didn’t step in until Utaha was clearly about to explode.

“Thanks for the thought, everyone,” he said lazily, “but I’m already used to someone else’s cooking. Nothing else really suits my taste.”

The girls’ faces immediately fell in disappointment.

“Sorry, let me through…”

Seiji pushed past them, stopping in front of the still-stunned Utaha. He reached out a hand and said casually, “Well? What are you standing there for? Aren’t you coming in?”

Utaha snapped out of it, and when she saw that teasing smile on his face, her irritation flared. She ignored his hand and brushed past him toward the gate without a word.

But she hadn’t taken more than two steps before the whispering started behind her.

“Kasumigaoka-senpai sure has a temper.”

“Right? She wouldn’t even let Fujiwara-senpai hold her hand.”

“That’s great! So you’re saying… I still have a chance?”

“Look, look—Fujiwara-senpai looks kinda down about it!”

Each whisper stabbed into Utaha like a fine needle.

Her expression shifted several times before she finally spun on her heel.

With a frosty face and under everyone’s stunned gazes, she strode back and grabbed Seiji’s arm—tight.

A silent declaration of ownership.

The chatter instantly died out.

Feeling the soft warmth and faint fragrance against his arm, Seiji’s lips curved upward. He raised an eyebrow at her tense, flushed face—his eyes practically saying, See? Told you. You can’t stay away from me.

Utaha caught the meaning instantly, biting down on her lip in frustration.

“Don’t get cocky,” she muttered through gritted teeth, shooting him a daggered look.

When they reached the shoe lockers, she took the first chance to fling his arm away and hurried up the stairs ahead of him.

Seiji just chuckled quietly and followed at his own pace.

Lunchtime.

To prevent rumors of “relationship problems,” Utaha had no choice but to grit her teeth and eat lunch with “Agent 007” Seiji Fujiwara at their usual spot.

Of course, just seeing his face was enough to ruin her appetite.

“I’m done,” she said curtly after poking at her food for a few bites, then got up to wash her bento box.

Seiji stayed put.

That’s when a flash of gold appeared in his peripheral vision—moving hesitantly, like a skittish deer sneaking through a forest.

Eriri.

Her cheeks were pink as she fidgeted in place for several minutes, peeking out and retreating again and again before finally summoning her courage.

Step by tiny step, she approached him.

“U-Um…”

Her voice was barely a whisper.

Only then did Seiji look up, as if just noticing her, his expression perfectly surprised. “Sawamura-san? What’s up?”

“F-Fujiwara-sensei knows who I am?” Eriri blinked in surprise.

“Well, you’re one of Toyonozaki’s stars—same as my girlfriend. Of course I’ve noticed you,” Seiji said with an easy smile.

“Ahaha, you flatter me! I’m nothing compared to you, sensei!” Eriri waved her hands frantically. Then she took out a copy of After School from her arms, her blue eyes sparkling nervously. “Umm, could I… get your autograph?”

“Of course.”

Taking the book, Seiji signed it casually while chatting, “Didn’t expect you to be into this kind of mystery novel, Sawamura-san.”

That opened the floodgates.

“Yes! Yes!” she nodded eagerly, her blonde twin-tails swaying like dancing ribbons. “I love the locked-room setup—it’s so bold and clever!”

Finding someone who actually got it lit her up completely. Words poured out in a rush.

Seiji listened attentively, smiling, occasionally nodding and offering small insights about the story’s structure. He was genuinely impressed by her understanding.

From After School, their conversation naturally drifted to A Certain Magical Index—from mystery tricks to the fusion of science and magic in Seiji’s novels.

And because light novels were Eriri’s specialty, that was all it took for her enthusiasm to explode. She bombarded him with questions about Index and 6 People, 6 Days, 6 Guns, utterly absorbed.

To an outsider, the two of them looked like a couple deep in passionate conversation—faces close, eyes shining, sparks flying.

“…”

When Utaha came back from washing her lunch box, she froze mid-step.

Excuse me—what?!

You two are already hitting it off?

Can’t you at least wait a day?!

“Exactly! That’s what I thought too!”

“As expected of Fujiwara-sensei!”

“Wow, so that scene really had a hidden meaning?”

Eriri had gone from nervous to relaxed, then fully radiant—eyes sparkling with admiration, completely engrossed.

To her, it felt like she’d finally met the one person in the world who truly understood her—someone who shared her soul, and was ridiculously handsome to boot.

Time slipped away unnoticed.

When the bell signaling the end of lunch finally rang, Eriri reluctantly stood. “Ah, sorry for keeping you so long, Fujiwara-sensei!”

“It’s fine. I haven’t had such a fun chat in ages.” Seiji held up his phone with a grin. “Let’s add each other on LINE.”

“R-Really?! Yes, of course!” she said, fumbling to grab her phone.

They exchanged contacts quickly, and Eriri waved goodbye, still glowing.

But the instant she left, Seiji felt a chill on his neck—as if someone was glaring daggers at him.

“Who’s there?”

He turned—and froze.

Utaha stood a few meters away, her face dark enough to blot out the sun.

“You… haven’t left yet?” he asked, feigning confusion.

Her expression darkened further, a throbbing vein pulsing on her forehead.

Oh, sorry. Did I interrupt your little flirting session?

Before she could speak, Seiji casually lifted his phone again and waggled it in her direction—clearly showing off.

“I just added Eriri’s LINE,” his smug grin seemed to say.

Utaha almost coughed up blood.

She took a long, deep breath, forcing her face into a smile so stiff it hurt.

People on the edge of fury often smile.

In short—Utaha was beyond furious.

She glared daggers at him, then stormed off.

For the rest of the afternoon, a suffocating low-pressure zone hung over her seat.

Meanwhile, the school forum was ablaze.

BREAKING! Fujiwara-sensei and Miss Eriri seen chatting intimately at lunch!

PHOTOS INSIDE! Two Toyonozaki goddesses go to war—Kasumigaoka-senpai left in the cold!

Analysis: Kasumigaoka-senpai’s control issues drove Fujiwara-sensei away!

Agreed! Eriri’s the perfect match—gentle, cute, totally Fujiwara-sensei’s type!

Reading those twisted, slanderous posts—painting her as a jealous shrew—Utaha trembled with rage.

How could these brain-dead kids all side with him?

That flirtatious bastard was the problem, not her!

The more she thought about it, the angrier she got—her expression icy for the entire afternoon.

When the final bell rang, she finally calmed down a little, rubbing her temples in exhaustion.

“Mom was right…” she murmured.

As much as she hated to admit it, today had made her realize what her mother meant last night.

Seiji Fujiwara wasn’t just some writer anymore.

He was a public icon—idolized by countless people.

In Japan, society always forgives the talented.

To the world, whatever Seiji did was “genius behavior.” Even his womanizing would be romanticized as the charm of a literary prodigy.

And her? She was just the woman beside him.

Even as his “girlfriend,” she was ultimately still an accessory.

The so-called “Flower on the Hill of Toyonozaki”? There were plenty of those.

But the best-selling light novel author—the youngest winner of the Edogawa Ranpo Prize? There was only one.

In short… she couldn’t control Seiji Fujiwara.

Realizing that, the fire inside her chest was doused with a bucket of cold water.

“I’ve really fallen for this bastard, haven’t I?”

Utaha let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head as she texted her mother:

Mom, I won’t be coming over tonight.

Her mother replied almost instantly:

Okay! Spend more time with Fujiwara-kun, dear. You’ve got this! 💪

That little “You’ve got this” made Utaha’s expression twist even more.

After school.

Utaha didn’t throw a fit. She simply accepted reality and, like always, silently followed Seiji to the parking lot.

“Well, well. Isn’t this the same Utaha-san who swore she wasn’t coming back?” Seiji teased, leaning against his car. “What’s this? Changed your mind?”

“…”

Her face flushed bright red. Avoiding his gaze, she hurried to the other side of the car, yanked open the door, and sat down without a word.

Seiji chuckled but didn’t push her further. He got in and started the engine.

The car pulled smoothly out of Toyonozaki.

For the entire ride, Utaha sat curled up in the passenger seat, half-turned toward the window, her hair hiding her burning face as she pretended to watch the passing scenery.

The silence was torture.

She could feel his occasional amused glances, making her want to crawl out of her skin.

Yesterday she’d sworn she wouldn’t come back—now she’d done the exact opposite.

This is mortifying.

Twenty minutes later, the car slid into the apartment garage.

Seiji unbuckled his seat belt, but instead of getting out, he checked his phone.

Mr. Fujiwara, everything has been settled. Mrs. Kasumigaoka’s new apartment and the title to her old home are both taken care of.

He’d spent the afternoon arranging for a law firm to handle everything: a new place for Utaha’s mother and repurchasing their old family house.

In this capitalist society, lawyers were just another kind of high-end intermediary—money could solve most problems.

Seiji had the money now. Naturally, he didn’t mind using it to look after her family.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“…Mm.” Utaha’s voice was barely a whisper. She got out and followed stiffly behind him.

Back at the apartment, she changed shoes as usual.

To cover her embarrassment, she simply pretended nothing had happened, face composed, walking straight to her room to change and prepare dinner like always.

Watching her trying so hard to act natural made Seiji chuckle quietly.

He didn’t call her out on it, just sat on the sofa in the living room.

When Utaha emerged in her comfortable home clothes, he spoke up.

“Utaha, come here a sec.”

She froze mid-step but walked over, face blank.

“Sit,” he said, patting the spot beside him with a pleasant smile. “Let’s talk business.”

“Business?” she echoed, suspicious.

She had no idea what he was scheming now, but she sat down—keeping a cautious distance.

Seiji’s smile deepened. “Remember what I told you before? Starting tomorrow, you’ll need to get along with Eriri.”

Utaha’s lips twitched.

Of course. She knew it.

Taking a deep breath, she let out a cold laugh. “Heh… Fujiwara the Great Novelist, you must be mistaken. I’m your lover, not the madam managing your harem.”

“I don’t take that kind of job. You can hire a professional for it.”

Seiji didn’t take the bait. He just pulled out his phone and sent a few messages, completely unbothered.

That calm, confident attitude only made Utaha more confused. She was about to speak again when her own phone buzzed.

A call—from “Mom.”

She frowned and stepped onto the balcony to answer.

“Hello? Mom? What’s wrong?”

Her mother’s excited voice rang out instantly.

“Utaha! I have wonderful news!”

Utaha blinked. “News?”

“The lawyer Fujiwara-kun sent just came by!” her mother said joyfully. “He helped me rent a luxury apartment downtown—200,000 yen a month! And he even bought back our old house!”

Utaha froze.

That house… their home for over a decade, filled with childhood memories.

“Fujiwara-kun also hired a maid to look after me,” her mother went on, nearly in tears. “He said I shouldn’t overwork myself anymore. Utaha, he’s such a considerate young man! I don’t have to worry about anything now!”

Utaha was speechless.

Another money attack, huh? Version 4.2?

She sighed internally—but couldn’t deny that warmth bloomed quietly in her chest.

This man…

For all his arrogance and womanizing, he could be frighteningly meticulous when he cared.

“I see… then we should go tidy up the house sometime,” she said softly, forcing a smile.

They chatted a bit longer before she hung up and went back inside.

Seiji was still on the sofa, looking as relaxed as ever.

Her anger was gone, replaced by a tangle of exasperation, gratitude, and helplessness.

Seiji smiled. “Utaha, come here.”

With a resigned sigh, she walked over.

The moment she was close enough, he took her hand and pulled her down beside him.

“Utaha,” he said quietly, wrapping his arms around her, his voice low and smooth, “to me, you’re not just any lover. You’re the queen of this house.”

“From now on, any woman who wants to step into this home needs your approval.”

“Their status, treatment, even whether they stay or go—it’s all up to you.”

His words dripped with temptation.

Utaha knew perfectly well what he was doing—trying to manipulate her into accepting his harem plans.

But the horrifying thing was…

It was working.

If she couldn’t control him, maybe controlling the women around him wasn’t such a bad idea.

The thought flickered to life before she could stop it.

And that realization made her furious—at herself.

Damn it, Utaha Kasumigaoka, are you really that easy to handle?!