{Satou-san on Stage}

The final cultural festival of high school.

On the surface, it’s supposed to be a grand stage that should bring a perfect end to our high school life.

But how many people are actually thinking about it that way? I bet most people are just hoping to have fun. Since it’s a handmade stage with a cast of people who have no theater experience and no particularly moving scenes, the audience’s reaction can only be so great. The goal seems to be that everyone enjoys themselves, makes the audience laugh, and that Cinderella finds happiness before the curtain falls. That’s probably all anyone’s thinking about.

At least, that’s what I think.

As long as I can have fun, that’s enough for me. As the mouse character, I’m fine with being caught by the wizard, turned into a horse, and transporting Cinderella to the castle.

In the early days of rehearsal, I couldn’t even muster the enthusiasm to enjoy it. The role of a field mouse was uninspiring, with only three squeaks as my lines, and I had to wear a full-body leotard. It seemed like the worst. I didn’t want to be laughed at; I thought that role would just get me laughed at.

But somehow, my attitude changed. I came to accept that being laughed at was okay. I probably wouldn’t care too much.

—As long as she was there.

By the time the curtain rose, I was ready.

On the gymnasium stage were some amateurish sets. Only the dark curtains covering the windows and the spotlights illuminating the stage gave it a theatrical feel. There were more audience members than expected seated in the row of folding chairs below the stage.

I took to the stage and performed the mouse role with all my might. Under the glaring lights, I squeaked enthusiastically. The audience reacted well.

When I was laughed at, I strangely didn’t feel embarrassed.

After all, I had a purpose. I had to get Cinderella to the castle no matter what. I had to pull the carriage to the castle as a horse. I was fully motivated.

Cinderella, who couldn’t go to the ball, is heartbroken. To save her, the fairy godmother casts a spell on the pumpkin and the mouse.

When she waved her wand, I, as the mouse, rolled off the stage and took a quick exit. I was supposed to change into the horse costume and come out as the white horse.

I rolled off the stage with great force. Rolling too much made my head spin.

But,

“Here, Yamaguchi-kun!”

At the sound of the voice, my dizziness instantly cleared.

The voice was Satou-san’s. I recognized it immediately.

Even though I couldn’t see her expression clearly in the darker backstage, I was startled because I hadn’t expected her to be there.

During rehearsals, Nishijima, the stagehand, was supposed to be on standby. Yet, Satou-san was waiting for me. She handed the horse costume to me. As I knelt to receive it, she whispered,

“Do your best!”

Hearing that, I couldn’t help but do my best.

I put on the horse costume and jumped back onto the stage. The audience laughed again. The laughter was almost amusing.

I was having fun. I was enjoying myself while being able to take Cinderella to the castle.

Cinderella is heading to the castle to meet the prince, but I’m different.

I’m heading to the castle to see Satou-san. Is there anything more enjoyable than this?

The scene changes to the castle, where ladies, gentlemen, and the prince are waiting.

The carriage stops in front of the castle, and Cinderella hops out to storm into the ball. The beautiful young lady’s sudden appearance causes a stir among not only the prince but also the ladies and gentlemen in attendance.

Transformed by magic, Cinderella looks charming. She’s so beautiful that her stepmother and stepsisters don’t recognize her. After a moment of stunned silence, everyone present praises Cinderella. Spurred by their admiration, the prince approaches Cinderella to ask her to dance.

At that moment, Satou-san in the black dress exclaims,

“Oh, what a beautiful lady!”

As in rehearsals, her voice wavered.

Laughter erupted from the audience.

But Satou-san looked somehow proud.

Did she notice me watching from behind the carriage? Did she understand that I wasn’t laughing? Her red lips curved slightly in an embarrassed smile.

Satou-san, under the stage lights, looked beautiful.

She wore the black dress elegantly, standing tall. The limited movement of her role was a blessing. She wouldn’t trip over nothing. In the corner of the ball, she could remain a lady.

Her role was Lady C. A minor role with no name and just one line. Still, I knew very well that she looked beautiful.

The prince was captivated by Cinderella. He eagerly took her hand to dance, ignoring the other ladies. It was just how the story went.

But I was watching Satou-san.

I was staring at the lady in the black dress, who wasn’t noticed by the prince.

Certainly, she couldn’t compete with Cinderella, but as a lady, she was more than beautiful enough. It might be a shame that the prince didn’t notice, but I didn’t want him to.

I hoped it was just me. That I was the only one who thought Satou-san was beautiful.

It was fine if everyone knew how overly caring she was, how she was positively inclined without reason, or how she was too straightforward because she lacked subtlety. But I hoped I was the only one who loved everything about Satou-san—her face, her appearance, her expressions, and everything about her inside and out. I didn’t want anyone else to notice.

I’m not good at expressing what I truly think. Especially when it comes to Satou-san, it’s difficult to reveal everything I feel. I’m quick with trivial matters but always fail to say what I really want to. Even now, before the performance, I couldn’t bring myself to compliment Satou-san’s dressed-up appearance. Part of it was because we were in the classroom, with everyone watching, but still.

Today, I wanted to say it clearly.

I wanted to tell Satou-san honestly. Before someone else said it, I wanted to say it myself.

Satou-san is beautiful. Depending on how you look at it. And with the right care.

It might be that because she’s not a beauty by default, it takes effort to stay beautiful. But being close to a beautiful Satou-san is quite difficult for me too.

So, if she could be beautiful sometimes, that would be great.

The rest of the time, I’d prefer her to stay the usual plain, unsophisticated, and unfashionable Satou-san.

When the clock struck twelve and Cinderella was sent home, it was the end of my role.

When the magic wore off, Cinderella turned back into a girl in rags, and I returned to being a mouse.

Even so, when I retreated backstage, I was still able to find Satou-san, who hadn’t lost her magic yet. I searched desperately with unfamiliar eyes, trying to capture her image as she watched the stage.

In the dazzling lights that spilled into the backstage, I focused on Satou-san’s profile. Satou-san was watching the rest of the play. The scene where the prince searches for the owner of the glass slipper. She watched intently as Cinderella tried on the glass slipper. When Cinderella successfully wore the slipper, she seemed relieved, patting her chest. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

It’s not new for me to be unable to look away.

The story of Cinderella reached a happy ending, and the play concluded smoothly.

During the obligatory curtain call, I stood next to Satou-san.

Satou-san glanced at me. She might have smiled slightly, but with the stage lights so bright, I couldn’t be sure.

We received the applause, cheers, and whistles from the audience. Personally, I felt more relieved that it was over than a sense of accomplishment or emotion. I was also happy to be freed from the full-body leotard.

But when I finished my role as the mouse, it meant that Satou-san’s role as the lady was also over.

I felt a bit wistful, glancing sideways at her.

After the curtain fell, Satou-san let out a deep sigh.

Then, she gave me a bubbly smile that didn’t fit the image of a lady.

“I’m glad it ended safely, but it’s still a little sad, isn’t it?”

Her whispered words were completely in agreement with my feelings.

It seemed we were unusually in sync.