{Satou-san’s Smile}

As November began, the preparations for the cultural festival started.

Each class was busy setting up for the festival during homeroom and after school. Perhaps because it was the last cultural festival of high school, Class C was extremely enthusiastic. I might be the only one not very excited about it.

Naturally, Satou-san was also very enthusiastic.

However, in her case, it might be better if she wasn’t so eager. Her acting skills were notably poor.

“Oh my, what a beautiful lady!”

This was the only line Satou-san’s character, “Lady C,” had in the play. She was meant to admire and praise Cinderella as she made a grand entrance at the ball. Despite it being a brief moment, her delivery was terrible—monotonous and with a voice that cracked. She didn’t come across as a lady at all.

Every time Satou-san spoke her line, the classroom was filled with laughter.

“Miyuki-chan, you don’t need to be so nervous.”

Next to a desperately suppressing Saiki-san, Tetsuzaki laughed loudly without restraint.

“What’s the point of standing out more than Cinderella?”

“Sorry, I’ll do better next time.”

Satou-san, who was being laughed at, was also smiling.

Even though she was embarrassed, there was no hint of sadness. Despite everyone laughing uproariously, she didn’t show any signs of disappointment or sadness. Her strong mental fortitude was both enviable and something I couldn’t emulate.

Every time Satou-san spoke her line, she was met with laughter. In the classroom where desks and chairs were pushed aside for rehearsal, she drew more attention than Cinderella, as everyone had said.

When it was her turn to speak, everyone tried to stifle their laughter. They braced themselves for her voice cracking, preparing not to burst out laughing at her comically high-pitched voice. Some seemed to enjoy it insensitively.

I watched the class’s atmosphere from the corner of the classroom.

As per the previous lottery, my role was a mouse and also the carriage horse. During the ballroom scene where Satou-san’s character appears, I had to wait on all fours by the carriage. It was a considerable humiliation in itself.

“Okay, let’s start from the top of the scene. Cinderella, return to the carriage. And carriage horse, get ready too.”

Hirazawa-san directed while looking at the script.

“Alright…”

I moved to the edge of the classroom on all fours.

“Yamaguchi, you’re really getting into the carriage horse role!”

When Niijima said this, everyone chuckled.

But unlike with Satou-san, they didn’t laugh so indiscriminately. I could feel the subtle difference in the atmosphere.

The scene at the ballroom resumed from the beginning.

The carriage I drew arrived at the castle, and Cinderella, played by Yukawa-san, rushed inside.

A ball was being held inside the castle. The attendees at the ball were amazed by Cinderella’s beautiful appearance.

—This part always went smoothly.

The problem was the next part. When the attendees started praising Cinderella, the class began to fidget. Some pinched their faces to avoid laughing, some whispered while pointing, and some were already shaking with laughter. All eyes were focused in one direction.

The ladies took turns speaking. Lady A said something, then lady B, and next up was Satou-san’s line.

Immediately after I frowned, I heard it.

“Oh my, what a beautiful lady!”

It was terrible. Perhaps because she was trying too hard, her voice cracked entirely.

Everyone burst out laughing. The class didn’t hold back when it came to Satou-san. The classroom was filled with raucous laughter, and amidst it, Satou-san, who was being laughed at, remained smiling. Despite being embarrassed, she was grinning as if it wasn’t even about her.

I decided to keep a neutral expression as a carriage horse. I didn’t understand what was so funny. Wasn’t it rude to Satou-san?

I wouldn’t want to be laughed at.

Whether as the carriage horse or the mouse, I hated being smirked at every time I made a sound. Even though I knew that was the nature of the role, I didn’t like being ridiculed.

But Satou-san seemed fine. Despite having a much better role than mine, with only one line, she was laughed at even during her sole moment to shine. She didn’t show any discomfort, only smiling even when mocked.

If I were in Satou-san’s position, I would have glared at everyone.

In the end, Satou-san was laughed at continuously that day.

Every time she spoke her line, she was met with laughter, yet she didn’t seem to be uncomfortable. She even appeared to be having fun. It seemed that because of Satou-san’s attitude, everyone continued to laugh without hesitation.

After the rehearsal, I cornered Satou-san and asked her a straightforward question.

“Weren’t you bothered by being laughed at so much?”

Satou-san looked puzzled at first, then shook her head.

“No, not at all.”

“You should say if you’re upset. Everyone’s taking advantage of you smiling.”

Perhaps out of frustration with my animal role, my tone was unusually harsh.

But she tilted her head and shyly answered.

“I understand that people are enjoying themselves, and I do think my line was really bad. I wish I could say it better.”

Whether it was humility or something else, it seemed Satou-san thought the laughter was her fault. It was a way of thinking that suited her. Since Satou-san always thought that way, it made sense that she could handle being laughed at so easily.

I couldn’t do that.

Even though I hated being laughed at, watching Satou-san being laughed at was something I couldn’t tolerate. I felt a surge of irritation and wanted to admonish each of them laughing. I knew Satou-san wouldn’t ask for such things—she was the type who wouldn’t say so.

It seemed the last cultural festival of high school was not going to be a good memory after all.