Second arc: Satou-san in our last autumn

{Miscast Satou-san}

Our final year of high school had already passed the halfway point before I knew it.

My daily life was mostly peaceful and enjoyable. My exam studies were going reasonably well, and the results of the mock exams I took at cram school weren’t bad. The atmosphere in the class seemed to be unified with the awareness of graduation approaching, and with the cultural festival coming up next month, we were already getting quite excited in October.

“It’s our last cultural festival, so why not do a play on stage?”

It was the cheerful Nishijima who suggested this during homeroom.

“We should go with something easy to understand and with a happy ending, like Cinderella!”

It was the always cheerful Saiki-san who proposed the play.

Perhaps I was the only one who was inwardly put off by the idea of performing in a play at this age. The class quickly united, and before I knew it, it was decided that we would perform Cinderella at the cultural festival.

But honestly, I didn’t oppose it.

That’s because—

“Cinderella is such a wonderful story. I wonder if we’ll wear dresses too? I’d like to see that!”

Satou-san showed a positive reaction to the idea. She was looking forward to it with sparkling eyes like a child, and honestly, it was a bit cute.

So, if she was okay with it, I figured I might as well be too, and voted in favor.

By the way, I have terrible luck with drawing lots.

In Class C, we decided seating arrangements and everything by lottery, but I’ve never managed to get a seat I hoped for. Last year, I ended up sitting next to “the plain, slow, and inattentive girl,” and now I was seated far from that girl, even though I would have preferred to sit next to her.

When it came time to decide the roles for the play, the class, which had been so enthusiastic about choosing the performance, was now reluctant to volunteer for the roles. Behind-the-scenes roles like stagehands, prop handlers, lighting, and sound were highly sought after, while no one wanted to take on a role on stage. I, too, thought that performing on stage in front of everyone was uncool and would have preferred a behind-the-scenes role.

Perhaps this was the punishment for supporting the idea with impure motives.

The role I drew was, of all things, that of a field mouse.

“I don’t want to do it… I really don’t…”

After the lottery was over, I returned to my seat, clutching my head.

The field mouse is caught in a mouse trap in Cinderella’s kitchen and turned into a horse by the fairy godmother’s magic. It’s a total comic relief character, reduced to an animal.

In the play, this transformation from a mouse to a horse will be expressed by changing from mouse ears to a horse costume. It’s supposed to showcase the magical power of the fairy godmother.

And, under the costume, it is mandatory to wear a full-body leotard—what? My crush is going to see me in that. Who would want to do something like that?

“Yamaguchi-kun, you look upset.”

From my despondent position, I heard the voice of the very crush I was concerned about.

When I looked up quickly, Satou-san was standing next to my seat, looking down at me with a slightly worried expression.

And behind Satou-san, I could see the backs of my classmates gathered in front of the teacher’s desk. The classroom was still buzzing with excitement from the lottery. They were all hyped up because the main roles like Cinderella and the prince hadn’t been decided yet, and those who hadn’t drawn their lots were being cheered on. There was no need to worry about drawing the field mouse role again.

“Well, of course,” I sighed and replied to Satou-san.

“Who would willingly want to take such a role? I would have preferred a different role.”

“I see. What role did you want?”

Satou-san asked gently, looking down at me with concern. I could tell she was trying to comfort me even without her saying anything.

Her thoughtfulness made me happy, but it also made me feel even more pitiful.

“I would have preferred a behind-the-scenes role.”

Taking advantage of the fact that no one else was listening, I grumbled.

“The best role is one where you don’t have to go on stage. I wished for something like that.”

The most popular behind-the-scenes roles naturally had high competition. Both boys and girls rushed to volunteer, and only those who won in rock-paper-scissors were assigned those roles.

For those of us who didn’t get behind-the-scenes jobs, the terrifying lottery to decide the play’s roles awaited. Cinderella has many characters: Cinderella, the prince, the wicked stepmother and sisters, and the fairy godmother—I didn’t want to play any of them. If I had to choose, I would have preferred a minor role like a townsperson or a castle guard, something that wouldn’t stand out as a failure. I prayed as I drew lots. And yet…

“But, I don’t think being a mouse is a bad role,” Satou-san said, trying to be encouraging.

“I looked at the script, and you have only a few lines, right?”

“Only three.”

Three short lines—if you would call them that.

The lines are “squeak squeak” when the fairy godmother turns the mouse into a horse, and “blurr blurrr” after the transformation. The third line is “squeak” again, right after the magic wears off at midnight. The embarrassment level is off the charts.

“Well, it’s a good role then. You don’t have to memorize many lines.”

“It’s not good. I’ll just be the butt of everyone’s jokes.”

When I sulked, Satou-san looked down for a moment but quickly brightened up.

“It’s an important role. Without Yamaguchi-kun, Cinderella wouldn’t be able to go to the ball.”

I understand that. Without the mouse, Cinderella’s happiness wouldn’t be fulfilled.

But if I wear a full-body leotard, I’ll suffer the misfortune of embarrassing myself in front of my crush at the final cultural festival of high school.

“I hate that the costume is a full-body leotard.”

As I declared, the “crush” tried to intervene.

“Look, Yamaguchi-kun, you have a good figure. I’m sure you’ll look good in a full-body leotard.”

“That’s not something I’ll be happy about, even if it looks good.”

“Is that so? But I think you’d make a cute mouse.”

“No way. Absolutely not. I don’t want to wear a full-body leotard in front of Satou-san.”

No matter how strongly I felt about it, the roles were already decided. The blackboard clearly listed the field mouse as Yamaguchi.

While this was going on, the results of the lottery continued to be decided in homeroom.

It seemed that Yukawa-san had drawn the role of Cinderella, and she shyly wrote her name on the blackboard.

“I don’t want to be the lead! I didn’t think I would! It’s so embarrassing…”

Hearing that, my mood sank again.

The lead role is still human and can wear clothes, which is better. I’m a mouse, and I have to wear a full-body leotard.

“Cheer up, Yamaguchi-kun.”

Satou-san said, patting my shoulder.

“I think you can handle any role well.”

“Do you really think I’m suited for the mouse role?”

I couldn’t help but ask back.

Of course, I wanted her to think I wasn’t suited for it. I hoped that in her image of me, I wasn’t a comic relief character like the field mouse but had a more acceptable role.

But she answered without hesitation.

“Maybe it suits you better than I suit the role I got? I think you’re like the unsung hero. Pulling the pumpkin carriage and taking Cinderella to the castle seems just right for you.”

The unsung hero. That was a nice way to put it.

That didn’t make me feel any better, but it did make me wonder, so I stopped sulking and asked.

“By the way, Satou-san, you drew a lot too, right? What role did you get?”

Suddenly, she became fidgety.

“Uh, well…”

Instead of answering directly, she pointed to the front of the classroom.

I looked for her name on the blackboard where the roles were listed.

Satou-san’s name was at the edge.

She was cast as Lady C among the three ladies.

“Lady C, is that someone attending the ball?”

I asked, not remembering very well, and she awkwardly nodded.

“Yes. I play a character attending the ball in a dress. It’s a bit strange, isn’t it?”

The ladies in dresses are at the ball held in the castle. Apparently, one of them is her role.

Satou-san, who follows school rules strictly in her uniform, dresses very plainly in her private clothes, and always ties her hair up, is going to wear a dress and act like a refined lady. I couldn’t quite imagine her laughing haughtily like a noble lady.

“There’s a line too, ‘Oh, what a beautiful person!’”

Satou-san shyly recited the line in a monotone.

“What scene is that line from?”

“It’s from the scene when Cinderella arrives at the castle. That’s my only line.”

She said, scrunching up her neck as if tickled.

“A role like a lady doesn’t suit me at all. I might end up being laughed at by everyone.”

I thought to myself that no one would laugh at that.

Compared to my mouse role, it’s far better. Some might think it doesn’t suit her, but it’s not something that would get laughed at.

“I don’t think anyone would laugh at you.”

When I said that, Satou-san blinked in surprise.

Then she smiled a little.

“…Thank you, Yamaguchi-kun.”

I didn’t remember doing anything deserving of thanks. I was confused, but then I realized that I should be the one thanking her and hurriedly said.

“No, thank you. Thank you for cheering me up.”

“Yeah.”

Satou-san nodded sincerely.

The fact that Satou-san would come running across the homeroom just to cheer me up showed that our distance had indeed shortened.

That made me happy now, and it was a source of support for me.