CHAPTER 24: PANICS AND PANCAKES

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There was a certain terror that came with waking up to four girls looking at you like you just set a school on fire—and then proudly peed on the ashes.

That was me. Right now.

The living room was suspiciously quiet. Sora lay bundled in blankets on the couch, pale and sleepy-eyed, but surrounded like royalty by Ayame, Akane, and Mei. And Rin—the grocery girl turned Florence Nightingale—was quietly arranging Sora’s medication like she’d been living here forever.

Oh wait. She was living here now.

Don’t ask how that happened. One day I was a regular high school senior trying to keep his grades up. Now, I’m a harem protagonist with a possibly pregnant housemate and a growing number of women who, apparently, all think I’m the villain of the century.

Go figure.

"Here," Ayame said, pressing a warm towel to Sora’s head. Her voice was gentle—too gentle. Like the calm before a meteor strike.

Akane fluffed a pillow. Mei sat, arms crossed, lips tight, sending me the kind of glare that made me wonder if she was mentally measuring the length of my funeral coffin.

And then there was Rin, pouring juice into a glass, humming like she hadn’t just hijacked my kitchen and most of my peace of mind.

I cleared my throat. "Uh... how’s she doing?"

Ayame didn’t look at me. "She’s resting. Thanks for asking... eventually."

Ouch.

Akane nodded, still not making eye contact. "The doctor said it was just stress-induced symptoms. But that kind of thing could be serious. Especially for a girl her age."

Double ouch.

"I didn’t know she was going through anything like that," I muttered.

"Well, maybe you should start noticing things," Mei snapped. "Before someone ends up with more than just morning sickness."

Triple ouch. Fatality.

I scratched the back of my neck. "You guys know it’s not like that. I mean... I never even—!"

"You think we care about what you think it’s like?" Mei shot back. "You made her cry, Ren. You made Sora cry."

My heart stung at that. I glanced at Sora, who just blinked slowly, then turned her face away.

God.

I never wanted to hurt her. Not her. Not any of them.

And yet, here we were.

They treated her like glass now. Holding her gently, cooking for her, feeding her like a princess. I got the emotional equivalent of being force-fed jalapeños and blamed for world hunger.

And Rin? She had somehow slipped perfectly into the chaos like she belonged there. Which... was weird. She hadn’t said much since she moved in. Just stayed close to Sora. Always watching me with those unreadable eyes.

I sat on the armrest beside the couch, trying to make myself small. Harmless. Apologetic.

"She... she really okay?" I asked quietly.

Rin turned to me and handed me a glass of water. "She will be. But you might want to start thinking less like a boy and more like someone who’s responsible for a house full of feelings."

That felt like it hit below the belt.

"Right," I mumbled, taking the glass.

"I’m serious," Rin continued, cool as ever. "I’ve seen enough guys mess up and smile their way out of it. Don’t be that guy."

I didn’t reply.

Partly because I didn’t know what to say. Partly because I was afraid that if I said anything, Mei might lunge over the couch and shove the juice box down my throat.

Instead, I just sat there in silence. Watching Sora’s chest rise and fall. Wondering how things got so out of hand.

The girls chatted around her, trying to lift her mood. Telling stories. Laughing softly. They were gentle now. Unified.

And I... I felt like a ghost in my own house.

That’s when I realized something:

Even if Sora wasn’t pregnant. Even if this was all just a scare.

I was already in deeper than I ever imagined.

And I was losing them—slowly, one day at a time.

Unless I started doing things that showed them I cared... for real.

With actions.

Not dumb words.

So I stood up, exhaled slowly, and said the one thing I hoped wouldn’t end in a frying pan to the head.

"I’ll cook dinner."

All four girls stared at me.

"You?" Akane blinked.

"I can follow a recipe."

"You almost burned cereal last week," Mei muttered.

Ayame raised an eyebrow. "But okay. Go on, Gordon Ramsay."

I turned to Rin. "You watching over Sora?"

She nodded. "Always."

And as I walked into the kitchen, pulling out ingredients, I could hear the girls behind me—talking, giggling softly again.

Not quite forgiving.

But maybe...

Maybe starting to see I was trying.

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"I said I’m cooking for her," I repeated, arms crossed, apron on, face dead serious.

The girls stood at the kitchen entrance like a jury waiting to deliver the death sentence.

"Do you even know how to boil water?" Mei asked, raising a brow.

"I... I’ve seen it done," I muttered, grabbing a pot.

Rin leaned against the counter, arms folded, clearly amused. "This should be fun."

As I turned on the stove, I dropped the pot lid—twice. The water splashed. The rice overflowed.

"Chef Boya-Ren," Akane teased, covering her mouth. "What are we making today? Charcoal soup?"

"Leave him," Mei giggled. "It’s cute. Like watching a baby deer walk for the first time... but in flames."

"Very funny," I grumbled, dumping oil into a pan—way too much oil.

A spark jumped.

The girls all flinched.

Sora peeked in from the hallway, wide-eyed.

"Is something on fire... again?"

"No!" I yelled quickly, flipping something that was definitely not supposed to be on fire.

The smoke alarm chirped.

Mei held her nose. "I knew it. Sora’s gonna get food poisoning and smoke inhalation."

"I can do this," I said, turning around dramatically—just as the pan slid off the burner and hit the floor with a wet, sizzling flop.

A beat of silence.

Then: laughter. Loud, unfiltered, merciless.

Even Sora was giggling now.

I looked down at my masterpiece, then up at them with deadpan defeat.

"So... who wants toast?"

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