‘Ah… this is depressing.’

As usual, after getting out of the chauffeured hire car that drops me off in the morning, I looked at the school building and let out a sigh.

Back when I first came to this world of Honey Academy, the world and the school buildings looked so dazzling, yet now they appear so gray…

Even in this dream world for men with reversed chastity norms and a 1:99 male-to-female ratio, a threat to one’s life is still a massive source of stress.

‘A prestigious family’s private soldiers are coming, but no support will be sent, so deal with it solo, that’s something a mother says?’

Without thinking, I end up cursing that stone-faced mother of mine.

Well, it was only a voice call, so I didn’t actually see her face, but still…

Even so, the parent-child relationship of Tachibana Tomoki is really beyond saving.

I mean, in this world, it’s actually a thing for prestigious families to have private soldiers.

This really drives home that this is a game world.

Now then, how exactly am I supposed to get through this crisis?

“Good morning.”

“Hyoh⁉ Oh, it’s Ena-san. Morning.”

I was deep in thought when she suddenly spoke to me, making me let out a strange noise.

“What’s wrong, Tachibana-san? You seem less energetic than usual.”

“I didn’t sleep well last night… but more importantly, Ena-san, you look even worse. Are you okay?”

Ena-san, the class representative of Class 1, being here early in the morning is probably because she’s waiting for Haruto to arrive at school.

But the dark circles under her eyes clearly show how exhausted she is.

That aside, why is Ena-san this worn down?

In the original game scenario, she would be busy with preparations for the class replacement match, but since Class 1 isn’t participating this time, they should have some breathing room event-wise.

Also, roles like greeting someone in the morning are usually handled by the escort girls…

“My situation doesn’t matter. Even if I collapse, I’m just a woman, there are plenty of replacements. The class is probably waiting eagerly for that to happen…”

She says this with a self-mocking tone, but there’s no spirit in her at all.

Hmm…

It seems Ena-san has started seeing all her classmates in Class 1 as enemies and can’t bring herself to delegate work.

This is bad.

I’ve seen it back in my previous workplace too, this is the classic state of someone who takes on too much work and ends up having a mental breakdown.

“There’s still some time. Let’s sit on that bench over there for a bit.”

“No, that’s… I’m fine.”

No, that’s the textbook catchphrase of someone who is not fine at all.

These are the people who suddenly collapse.

“Just do it. Sit here and wait for a bit.”

“Ah, my shoulders…”

I force her to sit down on the bench and in the process my hands touch both her shoulders and she’s shockingly fragile in my hands.

I mean, Ena-san has lost weight since the start of the school year…

Thinking that this too is the result of me warping the game’s scenario fills me with guilt.

“Here, drink this.”

“This is?”

“Hot amazake. They call amazake ‘drinkable IV drip,’ you know.”

Since it’s still April and there are days when it gets chilly, I’m glad the vending machines still have hot drinks.

Energy drinks are just borrowing energy from the future and kids this age shouldn’t be drinking them regularly.

And giving them to someone who’s already overworking herself is a big no.

“It’s warm…”

Holding the can of amazake she received, Ena-san mutters quietly.

“Go on, drink it.”

“B-but…”

“Listen to what a man says.”

“Y-yes…”

In my previous life, that line would’ve been clipped and turned into a massive scandal instantly, but this is for the sake of getting Ena-san some nutrition, so I’ll exercise some authority here.

Having been drilled with the principle that she can’t easily defy men, Ena-san obediently opens the can and starts sipping the amazake little by little.

“U… kuh… sniff…”

When she pulls her mouth away from the can, Ena-san starts crying while trying to stifle her voice.

Yeah…

It must have been really hard…

When you drink something warm at a time like that, everything just comes spilling out.

“I’m sorry… A woman crying in public… especially someone as unfriendly as me…”

Hmm.

Is this the gender-reversed version of “men shouldn’t cry in public”?

She really doesn’t need to put herself down like that.

Because…

“No, a girl’s crying face is cute, right?”

“Huh?”

When I state my honest impression, Ena-san stares at me with a blank look.

So I go all in.

“When I think that I made you cry, all I feel is affection.”

In my previous life, I never made a girl cry.

If anything, I was the one crying while drinking myself silly after getting dumped.

Looks like I’ve become quite the sinful man, making a girl cry.

“Th-that doesn’t make any sense…”

“It doesn’t have to. I’m just doing what I want to do. Here, I’ll put this over you.”

“Eh…”

Here comes the ideal good-guy move.

I carry out the classic move of “putting your uniform jacket over a crying girl’s head.”

“This way, no one can see you crying.”

Yep, the line landed perfectly.

“Why… why are you so kind even to someone from another class?”

“Because you’re someone important. I can listen to you complain a bit like this. For now, just cry as much as you want.”

After all, Ena-san is one of the main heroines who’s supposed to become Haruto’s love interest.

The class replacement match may have drifted a little from the game’s original plot, but at the end of the day, this game is about the hero and heroines getting along.

Even if the path up the mountain changes a bit, as long as you reach the same summit, it’s fine.

For that reason too, it would be bad if Ena-san broke down completely.

“W… waaah!”

As if the thread of restraint and tension snapped, Ena-san then cried out loud like a child.

Alright. With this kind of mental care, she should be fine. Still, having to do mental care for a heroine on behalf of the protagonist… being the protagonist’s male friend isn’t easy either.

Thinking that and unable to just leave the crying girl under my uniform jacket alone, I found myself growing weary at how many worries there are.