{October with Satou-san}

As autumn deepened, I had finally gotten used to my new seat.

The seat I now occupied was not next to Satou-san.

But it was a seat where I could conveniently sneak glances at her from behind by pretending to look at the blackboard.

Right after summer vacation ended, an indifferent seat change had occurred. There was no way we could be next to each other for the third time in a row, so Satou-san and I were separated. Now, I watched her from the seat two rows behind her, as she sat in the front row.

It was nice that I could see her without having to turn around, but it was boring just seeing her back. As I watched her usual one-bun hairstyle, I couldn’t help but think how nothing had changed.

Even though there were only five months left in high school, Satou-san remained the same. She still stumbled over her words when called on in class, and sometimes she dragged down the class during gym class. She still stayed behind for make-up exams after school. Her slow typing, questionable fashion sense, and her tendency to laugh at what I say, even if it’s blunt, hadn’t changed either.

It might be me who has changed instead.

Right after the seating change, I felt unreasonably lonely. Just not being next to Satou-san made both classes and break times incredibly dull. But soon, I thought of a different approach.

If the seats were apart, I should just make an effort to close the gap.

At the start of lunch break, I headed towards Satou-san’s seat.

She often fumbled with her notes, still unable to copy down everything from the board during class.

Despite this, it seemed like she was waiting for me to come, which was a significant improvement.

“Oh, Yamaguchi-kun.”

When she looked up, she gave me an unguarded, cheerful smile.

I knew Satou-san smiled like this at everyone. Even so, I couldn’t help but feel a little thrilled internally.

I masked my excitement and asked calmly.

“Satou-san, are you free during lunch break?”

“Yeah.”

When I invited her to spend lunch break together, she nodded. Since she sometimes had plans with Saiki-san, the success rate was about seventy percent. Recently, the girls in our class had also started to smirk and give up Satou-san to me willingly.

I silently accepted their kindness and secured our plans.

“Just wait a moment; I need to finish copying these notes.”

After giving me another warm smile, Satou-san turned back to her notes.

I returned to my seat in the meantime, bringing my lunch and chair. I placed them next to her seat.

Even though it was only for a short time, it felt nice to be sitting next to her again like before.

Both Satou-san and I had convenience store bread for lunch. I had sandwiches, and she brought cream buns, melon bread, and chocolate cornet. Though it seemed like a small amount of food, she often started eating sweet treats after the main course.

I thought it looked sweet just by watching, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. I kept glancing sideways at her eating face.

“You look good today, Yamaguchi-kun.”

Today, biting into her melon bread, Satou-san said.

“Really? I don’t think so.”

When I shrugged, she lowered her voice as if concerned.

“Well, you seemed really down yesterday. I was worried you might still be looking gloomy today.”

“…Ah, yesterday…”

Remembering yesterday, my mood inevitably darkened.

I had been quite down after being assigned the role of a field mouse in the cultural festival play decided in homeroom.

Today wasn’t completely free of that worry, and I hadn’t managed to become noble-hearted about playing the mouse. It was just that I had begun to accept it, knowing that nothing would change no matter what I said. Ending high school with a mouse role seemed like it would turn into quite a black mark.

“I still don’t want to do it.”

I answered honestly.

“But no matter who I tell, they won’t switch with me, and it’s useless to ask the teacher. No one wants such a role.”

In reality, I had jokingly asked Shinijima and Sotoyaki if they’d switch with me. Shinijima was a stagehand, and Sotoyaki was Castle Soldier B, so they naturally laughed and refused. If I were in their place, I wouldn’t listen either.

Standing on stage is embarrassing enough, and who would want a comic relief role like that? The fact that stage roles were less popular in homeroom yesterday showed that no one wanted to be on stage. People know the pressure of being in the spotlight, the fear of failure, and the embarrassment of messing up.

I understood that. I knew I wouldn’t be able to find someone to take the mouse role, and I knew it would be best if I accepted it. So, there’s no helping it.

“I’ll try to be as inconspicuous as possible and avoid getting laughed at too much. But I’m sure I’ll still be the subject of jokes.”

When I said that, Satou-san looked at me intently.

But she remained unusually silent. She didn’t offer any intrusive advice.

She probably understood too. Even someone as insensitive as Satou-san could tell that there was no way to comfort me right now.

I didn’t want any comforting words, so I wanted to end the topic. Since it was an unavoidable fate, I wanted to forget about it for a while. Practice would start next week, but even so.

Instead, I wanted to talk about something more enjoyable.

Music I’ve been into lately, movies I want to see, or maybe we should go out together sometime—just as I was about to suggest, Satou-san spoke up a little faster.

“Oh, Yamaguchi-kun. When are you going to get the costume for the play?”

I wished I could forget about it.

Despite my internal frustration at having it brought up again, I answered.

“I plan to buy it soon.”

The full-body leotard.

And since it’s for a field mouse, it’s the white one. Even though it’s something I’ll never wear again after the cultural festival, the unnecessary expense is painful beyond its cost.

“I’m going to attach the ears and tail myself. I’ll also make a horse mask, though it’s a hassle.”

When I answered, Satou-san immediately smiled.

“Then, how about we go shopping together? Maybe this weekend?”

“Sure, but… Satou-san, you’re playing a noblewoman, right? That sounds like a lot of work for the costume.”

I wondered if she could manage a dress, which must be expensive.

Although it’s a play, and a realistic costume isn’t necessary, Satou-san cheerfully responded, ignoring my worries.

“No, I’m just buying fabric. My mom has a cocktail dress that fits perfectly, so I plan to use that.”

She said, still looking a bit bashful.

“The only thing is, the skirt is a bit short, so I’m planning to add some fabric to it. I want to buy that fabric, so how about coming along?”

I didn’t know what a cocktail dress was, but it was enviable that she had something ready. Mine was not so easily obtained.

Still, since I would have to go shopping anyway, it wasn’t a bad idea to go with Satou-san. Maybe I could make the most of the unnecessary expense.

“Okay.”

I nodded without hesitation.

Then she smiled with relief.

“Great. Let’s eat something delicious while we’re out shopping.”

“Eh?”

“I found a cheap and tasty crepe shop. How about we go together? Eating something delicious might help you feel better.”

Satou-san was smiling brightly.

It was the same bright smile she gave to everyone. So, it was hard to gauge the nature of her invitation.

But I couldn’t help but feel hopeful.

Maybe this was a date invitation.

“Sure, that sounds fine. I’m free this weekend, and I can afford it.”

I answered as calmly as possible.

Then Satou-san grinned and excitedly agreed. I watched her with apparent calmness, though she probably didn’t know what I was thinking deep down.

She was still the same. Plain, slow, and oblivious.

Whether she knew my feelings, which I had confessed to her, or not, she treated me like a regular friend.

Even though I had made my feelings clear at the airport, it was hard to believe they hadn’t reached her—it had been four months, and there was no significant change in our relationship.

But I sometimes wonder if maybe she is aware of us.

Maybe she knows the best way to help me sheer up.

Maybe that’s why she invited me again this time.

I wanted to believe that.

In a way, I was still the same.

Even in October, nothing had changed—I still liked Satou-san.