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!~
The day after I became a member of the cultural festival planning committee, right after school.
As I looked at the massive pile of paperwork stacked at the front of the classroom, I was already beginning to regret yesterday’s decision.
Performance application forms.
Classroom usage forms.
Permits for open flames.
Budget proposals.
Equipment loan forms.
Wasn’t the cultural festival supposed to be a celebration of youth?
What lay before me wasn’t dreams or friendship, but a mountain of paperwork. While romantic comedies neatly gloss over this, it seems the behind-the-scenes work of a cultural festival is actually quite similar to a real-world office job.
I’d been tricked.
In the “I Don’t Need Youth!!” cultural festival arc, the protagonist and heroine were making signs in the classroom after school, smearing paint on each other’s cheeks.
There wasn’t a single panel showing them filling out application forms.
“Seita, you look so serious.”
From the desk next to mine, Rino peered at my face.
Besides Rino and me, the only others in the classroom today were Hara and Shinozaki, along with a few people who’d stayed behind as representatives of the hospitality and decoration teams.
Rino was moving her mechanical pencil as she checked through the executive committee materials one by one. Perhaps because she was used to reading scripts for photo shoots and interviews, she handled the paperwork with surprising efficiency.
“I’m despairing now that I know the reality of the cultural festival.”
“But at least I get to stay after school with Seita.”
“Don’t make paperwork sound like a date.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Of course not.”
“But I’m having fun.”
Rino said this nonchalantly as she pulled her chair up to my desk.
She’s close.
Our shoulders are touching.
I get the pretext that we’re looking at the documents together, but if that’s the case, there’s no need to get so close that our chairs are practically touching.
“Rino, you can do this at your own desk, right?”
“I want to see Seita’s handwriting.”
“What’s the point of that?”
“Don’t you want to see the handwriting of someone you like?”
“Don’t ask me.”
Rino picked up the application form I’d written and stared at it intently.
“Seita’s handwriting is beautiful.”
“It’s just average.”
“I like it because Seita wrote it.”
“Your standards are messed up.”
“I like Seita’s name, too.”
“Don’t treat even my name like it’s one of my achievements.”
It’s what my parents gave me when I was born.
It has absolutely nothing to do with any effort on my part.
Rino traced her finger along the line for the executive committee members’ names at the bottom of the application form.
Seita Takahara.
Rino Hoshimiya.
The two names stood side by side.
“Can I take a picture of this?”
“It’s an application form.”
“It’s proof that this is the first time Seita and I have made something together.”
“We haven’t made anything yet. We’re just at the application stage.”
“But they’re side by side.”
Rino looked at their two names and smiled, looking truly happy.
To me, it looked like nothing more than a signature section.
But for her, it seemed even this would become a memory.
“Wait until after we submit it to take a picture. We’ll get in trouble if we lose it.”
“Then just one before we submit it.”
“Listen to me.”
In the end, Rino took a photo of just the names, making sure the contents of the document weren’t visible.
I lost the will to stop her halfway through.
“Hey, you two—”
Hara’s voice rang out from the back of the classroom.
“This doesn’t look like an executive committee meeting—it looks more like a newlywed couple working together. Is that okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“The way you two are filling out paperwork for the city office and looking happy with your names side by side.”
“It’s the application for the cultural festival.”
When I answered, Rino muttered to herself as she looked at the photo she’d saved on her phone.
“Even though our last names are not the same, they’ll look nice side by side.”
“Rino.”
“What?”
“Come back here.”
“I’m at Seita’s place.”
“I’m talking about your train of thought.”
Hara was laughing with her face buried in the desk, and Shinozaki looked over at us with a sleepy expression while working on a prototype for a paper decoration.
“Takahara-kun, don’t you think you should just give up on this already?”
“If I give up, it’s over, isn’t it?”
“So you still think it’s not over yet—”
Shinozaki’s words stung.
I didn’t ask what exactly wasn’t over yet.
I felt like if I asked, I’d lose.
After discussing it, we decided the class performance would be a “Retro Café.”
We’d avoid flashy costumes and expensive decorations, opting instead for an interior inspired by an old movie theater. It was a practical plan that would let us create the right atmosphere while keeping costs down.
I was in charge of creating the menu and the payment system.
Rino was coordinating between the customer service team and the costume team.
Hara was overseeing the overall production.
Shinozaki was put in charge of decorations.
“Alright, let’s start by trying on the customer service uniforms!”
Hara lifted a paper bag.
Inside were aprons that the costume team had prepared as samples.
The women’s version was a black apron with white ruffles.
The men’s version had a relatively understated design, covering only from the waist down.
“Rino, try it on!”
“Sure, okay.”
Rino took the apron and stepped out of the classroom.
A few minutes later.
The moment the door opened, cheers erupted from across the classroom.
Rino, wearing the black apron over her school uniform, stood there looking a little shy. The white frills weren’t too flashy, yet they still perfectly complemented her striking features.
It was much more ordinary than her usual idol outfits.
It was the kind of outfit an ordinary high school student would wear at a cultural festival.
That’s exactly why the sight of her struck a deep chord in my heart.
“What do you think?”
Rino didn’t look around the room—she looked at me first.
As if drawn by her gaze, every pair of eyes in the classroom turned toward us.
I wanted to run away.
But Rino wasn’t looking for a half-hearted response.
I took another look at her.
“It suits you.”
“Is that all?”
“I think you look cute.”
The classroom erupted in cheers.
Rino blushed and clutched the hem of her apron with both hands.
“Seita, it’s not fair to say that in front of everyone.”
“You’re the one who asked for my opinion, Rino.”
“I wanted you to say it so only I could hear it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Then say it again later.”
“If I remember, that is.”
“I’ll definitely remember.”
It wouldn’t mean anything if Rino remembered it instead of me.
Just as I was about to point that out, Hara tossed a boys’ apron at me.
“Okay, next up is Takahara-kun!”
“Why do I have to do this too?”
“Because the executive committee members are supposed to set an example.”
“You just made that rule up.”
“Seita, put it on.”
Even Rino was looking at me with eyes full of expectation.
My escape route was gone.
Reluctantly, I put on the apron. Since I just had to tie it around my waist over my uniform, I didn’t even need to change clothes.
“This should be fine, right?”
As I said that and looked up, Rino was staring at me in silence.
“Rino?”
“……Seita’s working.”
“It’s the cultural festival, after all.”
“We’re working at the same booth.”
“All our classmates are there too.”
“I’m going to serve customers right next to Seita.”
“We’re supposed to decide the roles later.”
“It’s already decided.”
“Don’t just decide things on your own.”
Rino stepped closer to me and reached for the apron strings.
“It’s a little loose.”
“I can fix it myself.”
“Don’t move.”
Rino moved behind me and retied the strings around my waist.
Every time her fingertips brushed against me through my uniform, my body tensed up strangely.
She’s so close.
I can feel Rino’s presence on my back.
Plus, everyone in the classroom is watching us.
“Is it too tight?”
“I’m fine.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
When I answered without using honorifics, Rino’s hand paused for a moment.
“I like you.”
“Don’t confess while tying an apron.”
“But you spoke to me so naturally, Seita.”
Once Rino finished tying the knot, she returned to my side.
We stood in a row at the front of the classroom, both wearing costumes from the same shop.
Hara nodded with satisfaction.
“Yeah. Our two main attractions are set.”
“Who’s the main attraction?”
“Who else could it be in this lineup?”
“I’ll do it if I’m with Seita.”
“Don’t drag me into this.”
“Don’t you want to?”
Rino tugged on my sleeve.
I looked around the classroom.
Preparations for the cultural festival.
Costume fittings.
Classmates staying after school, laughing together.
This is the kind of scene I would have just watched from afar back in the day.
At my middle school cultural festival, I couldn’t do anything.
While everyone else was preparing, I wasn’t in the classroom. I was convinced that my presence would ruin the atmosphere, so even though no one had asked me to, I just disappeared on my own.
That’s why, even now, being in this group scares me a little.
What if someday they tell me I’m not needed?
Wouldn’t everyone be better off without me?
Thoughts like that suddenly surface from deep within my heart.
Just then, Rino gently tugged at the hem of my apron.
“Seita.”
“What?”
“You look like you’re drifting off again.”
She saw right through me.
Rino lowered her voice.
“Are you scared?”
“……A little.”
“Want to go home?”
She didn’t say, “Don’t run away.”
She didn’t force me to stay either.
She asked me so that I could choose for myself.
That really touched me.
I looked around.
Hara is rewriting the budget sheet.
Shinozaki is aiming to place a paper decoration on my head.
The other classmates are gathered around the table, discussing the menu.
No one has told me to disappear.
In fact, there are even some who are waiting for my suggestion on how to split the bill.
“……I’m not going home.”
I replied.
“I’m staying here a little longer.”
Rino smiled gently.
“Okay. Then I’ll stay too.”
“You were planning to stay anyway, weren’t you, Rino?”
“If Seita’s here, it makes staying here even more worthwhile.”
“You’re saying that again.”
Still, I smiled a little.
Rino smiled too.
Hara, who had been watching us, clapped his hands.
“Okay, okay! Come back from your little world! We’re deciding on the menu!”
We returned to the work table, still standing side by side.
We were supposed to be trying on the aprons, but Rino didn’t try to take hers off. When I tried to take it off, she asked me to let her wear it a little longer, so in the end, we continued working with it on.
As I put together the menu proposals, Rino wrote on a piece of paper beside me.
Our shoulders brushed against each other.
Sometimes, we’d reach for the same pen at the same time, and our fingers would touch.
Every time that happened, Rino would look at me with a happy expression.
“Seita.”
“What?”
“Are you starting to look forward to the cultural festival?”
I didn’t answer right away.
I’m scared.
Sometimes I remember the past.
I’m sure there will be moments from now on that will be even harder to bear.
But compared to just yesterday, I found myself wanting to hold on to this moment just a little bit longer.
“……Just a little bit.”
“Really?”
“If I’m with Rino, I feel like I can hang in there a little longer.”
Rino’s pen stopped moving.
I felt embarrassed after saying that and looked down at the paperwork.
“Forget what I just said.”
“I can’t.”
“I figured.”
“Seita.”
“What?”
“On the day of the event, please stay by my side.”
I looked at the application form with our two names side by side.
Seita Takahara.
Rino Hoshimiya.
Until yesterday, it had just been a signature line.
But now, it seemed to carry a slightly different meaning.
“I’ll be there.”
I replied briefly.
Rino said nothing, but under the desk, she hooked her little finger around mine.
Like a tiny promise no one could see.
Twenty-nine days until the cultural festival.
The toughest challenge of my teenage years had only just begun.
Maigetsu