The School’s Top Idol Is Acting Like She’s My Childhood Friend for Some Reason and Just Keeps Closing the Distance on Her Own…?! ~Stop Getting All Gloomy on Me Just Because I Turned You Down!~
At the start of homeroom on Monday, our homeroom teacher wrote two large characters on the blackboard.
“Culture Festival”
In that instant, the atmosphere in the classroom changed completely.
Some cheered. Others exchanged glances with their neighbors. Still others immediately began discussing their performances. Even the students who had been slumped over their desks just moments before lifted their heads, as if they’d forgotten all about their drowsiness.
I was the only one who stood there frozen in silence, staring at those two characters.
Culture Festival.
A school event.
The whole class coming together.
A lifelong memory created by working together with friends.
A miracle cure for my “youth complex” had just been dropped into the classroom all at once.
Stop it.
I’m not mentally prepared for this yet.
Calling each other by name, holding hands, feeding each other lunch, even lending a shoulder for a nap—lately, I’ve been getting an overdose of youth. If I take in any more, it might actually cause physical problems.
My recommended dose is just watching one episode of an anime in a dark room.
Don’t subject me to the Culture Festival in real life.
“Seita, it’s the Culture Festival!”
A cheerful voice came from next to me.
Rino was staring at the blackboard, her eyes sparkling.
“I heard you.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Stay home.”
“No way.”
Her answer was immediate.
“Staying home isn’t an option for school events.”
“I’m planning to suddenly get sick on the day of the event.”
“I’ll come take care of you.”
“That’s becoming more important than actually participating, isn’t it?”
“Then let’s go together.”
Under the desk, Rino tugged at the sleeve of my uniform.
She’d already seen right through my attempt to make a run for it.
In the past, I might have felt the weight of those fingers.
But right now, I found myself feeling just a little relieved that she was holding me back.
“I’m looking forward to the cultural festival with Seita.”
“We haven’t even decided what we’re going to do yet.”
“Anything’s fine. As long as I’m with Seita.”
“Don’t say things like that so casually in the classroom.”
“It’s okay—I’m whispering.”
“I can hear every word.”
“I’m saying it so Seita can hear.”
Rino smiled without a hint of guilt.
Looking at that smile, my wariness toward the cultural festival faded just a little.
Just a little.
There’s no denying that this “weapon of youth” called the cultural festival is still a dangerous thing.
“All right, then. First, let’s decide on our class’s performance.”
At the homeroom teacher’s voice, the classroom fell silent.
Hara was the first to step up to the blackboard.
“All right, all right! Anyone have any ideas?!”
“Why is Hara taking charge?”
“Because she seems like the type who’d enjoy this sort of thing.”
Shinozaki propped her chin on her desk, already looking as if it had nothing to do with her.
Hara wrote down the ideas suggested by the class one after another on the blackboard.
Haunted house.
Festival stalls.
Play.
Mystery game.
Coffee shop.
The moment the words “Idol Live” were added to the list, every pair of eyes in the classroom turned to Rino.
Sitting next to me, Rino’s shoulders tensed slightly.
“Since we have Hoshimiya-san here, if she performs on stage, we’ll definitely win, right?”
“What exactly are we winning by winning the cultural festival anyway?”
I mentally shot back at the boy’s comment.
But the crowd around us suddenly erupted with excitement.
“I want to see that!”
“A Rino concert would be way too amazing!”
“Our class is the best!”
It wasn’t meant maliciously.
Everyone probably just genuinely wanted to see Rino perform.
But to me, it seemed as though that cheerful anticipation was gradually closing in on Rino.
Even at school, Rino Hoshimiya is expected to be an idol.
She might just want to enjoy the cultural festival as a normal high school girl.
Rino forced a smile.
A beautiful smile that put everyone at ease.
It was the face Rino Hoshimiya showed when she was working.
“I’ll have to check my schedule first—I’m not sure if I can yet—”
“Rino, what do you want to do?”
The words came out so naturally it surprised even me.
The classroom fell silent.
Rino looked at me, too.
“Seita?”
“I’m not asking what everyone wants to see—I’m asking what you want to do at the cultural festival, Rino.”
I’d done it again.
Right in front of the whole class, I’d called the top active idol by her first name and asked her what she wanted.
Even setting aside my teenage insecurities, my sense of social embarrassment was killing me.
But I had no intention of taking my words back.
“You get plenty of chances to perform on stage for work, right? You don’t have to do the same thing at school, do you?”
Rino’s eyes widened, and she didn’t answer for a while.
Eventually, her beautiful smile slowly began to fade.
In its place appeared a smile that looked a little troubled, yet happy.
“I want to run a coffee shop.”
“A coffee shop?”
“Yeah. We’d make costumes together, decorate the classroom, and serve food to customers. I want to try having a normal cultural festival like that.”
The atmosphere in the classroom shifted.
Hearing Rino’s words, even the students who had been clamoring for a live performance just moments ago began to nod in agreement, one by one.
“You’re right—with a live performance, it’d feel like work for Hoshimiya-san.”
“A café sounds fun, doesn’t it?”
“We could really go all out on the costumes!”
Hara drew a big circle around “Café” on the blackboard.
“Then, let’s focus on the café idea!”
The discussion naturally shifted toward the café proposal.
I let out a small sigh.
When I looked over, Rino was staring intently at me.
“What?”
“Seita, did you notice I was upset?”
“You seemed a little stiff.”
“You were watching me, weren’t you?”
“I’d notice if you were sitting right next to me.”
As I replied, Rino reached under the desk for my hand.
Our fingertips touched.
After a moment’s hesitation, I took her hand.
During homeroom.
While our classmates were getting excited talking about the cultural festival, we were holding hands under the desk.
No matter how I looked at it, it was weird.
But when I felt Rino’s fingertips relax as if she’d been reassured, I couldn’t bring myself to let go.
“Seita.”
“What?”
“Thank you.”
“It’s nothing. You just said what you wanted to do, right?”
“Yeah. But if things had gone on like that, I think I would’ve said I’d do the live performance.”
“If you didn’t want to, you should’ve just said no.”
“When people have expectations of me, I want to live up to them.”
Those words made my heart ache a little.
Rino is an idol.
Her job has always been to live up to other people’s expectations.
That’s why she prioritizes the Rino Hoshimiya that those around her want to see over her own wishes.
Just as I put on a mask for the outside world, Rino also wears the mask of the perfect idol.
“At school, you should just do whatever you want to do.”
“With Seita?”
“…As long as we can do it together.”
Rino squeezed my hand back tightly.
“Then I’ll help you prepare the whole time.”
“Don’t just go ahead and stretch that ‘as much as possible’ to the absolute limit.”
“We’ll be together on the day of the festival, too.”
“That depends on my shift.”
“We’ll take breaks together, too.”
“Don’t turn the cultural festival into an event just for the two of us.”
“We’ll go home together after it’s over, too.”
“Is that already on your schedule?”
“I put it on there.”
Rino looked satisfied.
By then, the class’s performance had almost been settled on a café theme.
The problem was dividing up the roles.
“Okay, next up, let’s pick two people to be on the Culture Festival Executive Committee!”
At Hara’s voice, the entire classroom fell silent at once.
No one made eye contact.
It was obvious.
It seemed many people wanted to enjoy the Culture Festival, but few were willing to take on the tedious work.
I quietly lowered my gaze as well.
Time to make myself invisible.
It was time to use the ability to block out my presence—a skill I’d been honing since middle school.
“Seita, let’s do this together.”
My attempt to block him out failed.
“No way.”
“An immediate refusal.”
“Being on the executive committee is something the stars of our youth should do. It’s too much for me.”
“I’ll do it too.”
“That’s exactly what’s making it so much of a burden.”
Rino and I, the two of us on the cultural festival organizing committee.
Staying after school to prepare.
Going shopping together.
Running things on the day of the event.
It’s dangerous.
The romance comedy vibe is way too strong.
If this were I Don’t Need Youth!!, the cultural festival preparation arc alone would fill an entire volume. We get locked in a storage room, have an accident while taking costume measurements, and end up alone together in a classroom at night.
This is absolutely out of the question.
My heart is about to reach its final episode.
“Is there anyone who’ll join the organizing committee?”
Hara looks around the classroom.
No one raises their hand.
Rino, still holding my hand, whispered softly.
“Seita.”
“No way.”
“I want to make memories with you at the cultural festival, Seita.”
“You can do that just by participating normally, right?”
“I want us to decorate the classroom together after everyone else has gone home.”
“That’s way too specific.”
“I want to go shopping with you, too.”
“Isn’t this just turning into a date?”
“Is that no?”
Rino looks at me with a worried expression.
That look was unfair.
I’m scared of the cultural festival.
The phrase “the class coming together as one,” the after-school preparations, and the memories we’ll make together—they all remind me of the youth I once lost.
Back in middle school, I stopped going to class and couldn’t properly participate in school events either.
While everyone else was working together to create something, I stayed home.
I left the cultural festival brochure handed out by the school on my desk and never even opened it.
Going would just be a bother.
No one would be bothered if I wasn’t there.
I kept telling myself that as I stared out the window.
That memory still lingers in my heart.
That’s why I’m afraid of the cultural festival.
I’m afraid I’ll be reminded that I’m the only one left out of the circle again.
But right now, Rino is holding my hand.
She says she wants to make memories with me.
She doesn’t say I’m not needed.
If anything, she’s hoping I’ll be there.
“…If it gets too much for me, I’ll let you know.”
Rino’s eyes widened.
“Does that mean—”
“I’ll join the organizing committee.”
I slowly raised my free hand.
All eyes in the classroom turned to me.
My heart was pounding.
I wanted to run away.
But I didn’t lower my hand.
“I’m okay with doing it.”
When I said it out loud, Hara looked surprised.
Even Shinozaki, who’d been looking sleepy, opened her eyes a little wider.
“It’s so rare for Takahara-kun to run for something!”
“If Seita’s doing it, I’ll do it too.”
Rino raised her hand without hesitation as well.
Cheers erupted in the classroom.
“It’s settled, then!”
“With the childhood friends duo, I feel at ease!”
“Good luck to both of you!”
We aren’t childhood friends.
Normally, I would have corrected that right away.
But today, I was more concerned with the fact that Rino was happily shaking the hand she’d clasped with mine than with those words.
“Seita, we’re in this together, aren’t we?”
“Rino dragged you into this, didn’t she?”
“Did you not want to?”
“I’m scared.”
I answered honestly.
“Things like the cultural festival—doing stuff with everyone—still scare me a little. It reminds me of the past.”
Rino’s expression turned serious.
“But I also thought I didn’t want to run away.”
That was a true feeling that even surprised me.
I’m scared.
But if it’s with Rino, I’d like to give it a try.
I want to create the school events I once lost—with my own hands, this time.
“So, please stay by my side.”
After saying it, I was surprised by my own voice.
I wasn’t using honorifics.
I wasn’t trying to sugarcoat it either.
I simply asked Rino to stay with me.
Rino smiled, her face looking like she was about to cry.
“Yeah. I’ll always be here.”
“‘Always’ is a bit much.”
“Even after we graduate?”
“We’re talking about the cultural festival here.”
“Even after we graduate, and even after that—even if Seita says it’s enough.”
“That’s a heavy commitment.”
“It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?”
It certainly was a bit late.
Rino intertwined her fingers with mine under the desk.
Culture Festival Executive Committee.
The classroom café.
After-school preparations.
My “youth complex” is already sounding the alarm.
But Rino is right here beside me.
If that’s the case, this year’s culture festival won’t end without us even opening the program.
Just before homeroom ended, our homeroom teacher posted the schedule on the blackboard.
The preparation period is one month.
On top of that, it seems the sports festival is coming up two weeks after that.
Culture Festival.
Sports Festival.
A barrage of teenage life.
I stared at the schedule and quietly held my head in my hands.
“Seita, this is going to be fun, isn’t it?”
“I don’t think I’ll survive this.”
“It’ll be okay. If you collapse, I’ll carry you.”
“Think about the size difference.”
“I can carry you, Seita.”
“What about my dignity?”
“I’ll keep it safe for you.”
“Give it back.”
Rino laughed cheerfully.
Seeing that smile, I smiled just a tiny bit too.
And just like that, my high school life plunged into the “Culture Festival Arc”—one of the toughest challenges of my youth.
Maigetsu