I Reincarnated as the Counselor NPC in a Dating Sim, and Now Every Heroine I Treat Becomes Obsessed with Me - Chapter 18: “Rain and Names—The Thing Shizuku Stopped Writing on Her Memos”

Act 03: The Deep Approach

Chapter 18: “Rain and Names—The Thing Shizuku Stopped Writing on Her Memos”

Late June. Right in the middle of the rainy season.

It had been raining since morning. The warm, sticky humidity seeped into the school building, leaving a faint layer of condensation on the linoleum floors in the hallway. On days like this, even the students tended to quiet down, and the school felt strangely calm during lunch break.

The rooftop was off-limits.

Because of the rain.

Which meant Akane and I were eating lunch indoors.

“…Why do we have to come all the way to the classroom to eat?”

Akane muttered with a frown.

Technically, this wasn’t a classroom. It was an empty room next to the counseling office. When I suggested eating in the counseling room before, Akane immediately rejected it with, “That place is too cramped.” So this room became our rainy-day lunch spot.

We pushed two desks together and spread out our convenience store lunches.

Today’s choice was grilled salmon bento, at Akane’s request.

Recently, she had started accepting food that wasn’t deep-fried. Whether her tastes had matured or she had simply grown bored of fried food was still unclear.

“The rooftop would get soaked in this rain.”

“Yeah, I know that. …Actually, I’ll just buy my own lunch from now on. Feels bad making you buy two every day.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s an expense.”

“Yeah right. You’re paying out of your own pocket.”

“…Half of it is.”

“What do you mean ‘half’? It’s all coming out of your pocket.”

She saw right through me.

There was no way counseling expenses could cover convenience store lunches. My monthly food budget had definitely been taking a slow, steady hit.

“Well, it’s fine. I’m doing it because I want to.”

“…Seriously.”

Akane flaked the salmon with her chopsticks while staring out the window at the rain.

“I hate rain.”

“Why?”

“Because we can’t go to the rooftop. —I like that place. The sky’s wide. This place feels cramped.”

“Yeah, this room is pretty small.”

“Your counseling room is even smaller.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Akane snorted.

She sounded annoyed, but she was actually enjoying this casual conversation.

Akane had three kinds of “annoyed.”

The first was when she was genuinely irritated.

The second was when she was embarrassed and trying to hide it.

And the third—

The lazy kind of annoyance she showed when she felt comfortable.

Right now, it was the third.

After finishing her bento, she suddenly spoke.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“That transfer student—Hanasaki. He stopped talking to me lately.”

“…Really?”

“He was annoying for the first week, always trying to talk to me. But lately he’s been chatting with other people. Kagurazaka. Kujou.”

Her voice carried almost no emotion.

Not anger.

Not relief.

Just calm.

“Probably because I was cold to him. That’s what people usually do, right? If someone treats you coldly, you back off.”

“…………”

“But you didn’t.”

“Well, there was the bento.”

“…Don’t blame the bento.”

Akane smiled a little.

She really smiled.

Back on that first day when we ate lunch on the rooftop, I would never have imagined it—

A gentle smile from Akane Hinomiya.

“What do you think about Hanasaki?”

“What do you mean, what do I think…? Nothing much. I don’t think he’s a bad guy. He was annoying at first, but lately, watching him… it feels like he’s trying hard in his own way. Even if he keeps messing things up.”

“Messing it up?”

“He talks to Hojouin every day, but she turns him down every day. I respect the fact that he doesn’t give up, but… how do I say it—he’s not really looking at her.”

Akane had sharp instincts.

This girl could read the “hidden side” of people.

Probably because no one ever bothered to look at hers.

“What he’s seeing is ‘Midori Hojouin, the student council president.’ He’s not seeing the person named Midori Hojouin. —Stuff like that’s obvious if you watch.”

“…That’s pretty sharp.”

“It’s not sharp. Anyone can see it if they’re paying attention. —Same thing when he told me, ‘You’re actually nice deep down, right?’ He looked at my surface and made up some fake ‘hidden side’ in his head. He never saw the real one.”

She closed the lid of her bento box.

“You saw it. You put the lunchboxes down, sat next to me, and just waited until I started talking on my own. —That wasn’t you looking at my surface. You were actually looking at me.”

I hesitated for a moment, unsure what to say.

“…I didn’t understand you at first either, Akane.”

“Yeah right.”

“I’m serious. At first I was just thinking… it’d be nice if you ate the lunch I brought. I only saw your real side because you showed it to me.”

Akane looked at me.

“…Hey, don’t suddenly say nice things like that. It’s creepy.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

Our usual exchange.

But compared to half a year ago, the feeling behind it was completely different.

Even though the words were the same, the trust underneath them had grown much deeper.

The bell rang.

“Well then, afternoon classes—”

“…Not sure if I’m going.”

“I’d be happy if you did.”

“Don’t say stuff like ‘happy.’ That just puts pressure on me.”

“Alright, alright. Sorry.”

Akane left the empty classroom.

At the door, she turned back—

Like she was about to say something.

Then she stopped and left without saying it.

I didn’t know what she had been about to say.

But the fact that she almost said something was progress in itself.

—

After school.

The rain still hadn’t stopped.

Outside the window, gray clouds kept pouring down endless streaks of water.

Shizuku came to the counseling room.

Today, she didn’t have an umbrella.

The shoulders of her uniform were wet.

Her hair was slightly damp too.

She had probably run from the dorm to the school building without one.

“Shizuku-chan, where’s your umbrella?”

Shizuku wrote on her memo.

『I didn’t bring one. It wasn’t raining this morning.』

“You can borrow mine when you go home. I’ve got a spare.”

Shizuku shook her head lightly.

『I’ll be fine. If I run, I won’t get wet.』

The logic of “running means you won’t get wet” was a bit questionable from a physics standpoint, but I didn’t argue.

Instead, I handed her a towel.

She accepted it and wiped her hair.

“I’ll make some warm tea.”

Today, I brewed it a little stronger.

Tea tastes better on rainy days that way. My old boss from my previous life used to say, “Use more tea leaves when it rains. The humidity makes the flavor feel weaker.”

Shizuku accepted the tea and held the cup with both hands.

She sat by the window, watching the rain.

I liked moments like this.

Just sitting quietly with her, not doing anything in particular. Simply sharing the same space.

Not as a counselor—

But as a person, enjoying the calm.

(…This might be a problem. A counselor feeling “comfort” during time with a client can be a sign of countertransference. Maybe I’m starting to depend on Shizuku. —No, maybe not that far. Then what is this feeling? What should I even call it?)

I stopped my train of thought.

Shizuku had taken out her memo pad.

『Sensei, may I ask one thing?』

“Of course.”

『Your name is ‘Ren,’ right? Ren Asagiri-sensei.』

“Yeah, that’s right.”

Shizuku stared at her memo pad for a while.

She started writing something.

Then erased it.

Then wrote again.

Finally, she handed the note to me.

It said:『May I call you Ren-sensei?』

I was a little surprised.

Until now, Shizuku had always written “Sensei” in her notes. Not even “Asagiri-sensei.” Just plain “Sensei.”

Now it was changing to “Ren-sensei.”

Calling someone by their name meant something.

It meant moving from “Sensei as a role” to “Sensei as a person.”

From a counselor’s perspective—

This meant the relationship was deepening.

That could be good or bad.

If it was good, it meant trust was growing.

If it was bad, it could mean she was starting to cling to me personally.

Which one was it?

At this stage, I couldn’t tell.

But—

There was no reason to refuse.

“Of course. You can call me whatever you like.”

Shizuku gave a small nod.

Then she started writing something in her memo pad again.

This time, she didn’t show it to me.

She was writing for herself.

I couldn’t see what she wrote. She held the memo pad close to her chest.

About five minutes passed before she looked up.

Her mouth moved.

But—

No sound came out.

Only her lips formed a shape.

I could read it.

—“Ren.”

Shizuku’s lips quietly formed the word “Ren.”

No voice followed.

Since that single “aa” sound before, she still hadn’t reached the point where she could speak properly again.

But—

Her lips had formed the shape of my name.

Shizuku realized her lips had moved and suddenly froze.

She quickly covered her mouth with her hand.

The exact same reaction as last time.

“…………”

I didn’t say anything.

I simply took a sip of tea and looked out the window at the rain.

Just like usual.

As if nothing had happened.

She watched me.

As if checking whether I would react differently.

A few seconds later—

Her hand slowly moved away from her mouth.

Then she took a sip of her tea.

The two of us sat there, watching the rain.

Drops sliding down the window.

Gray skies.

Distant thunder rumbling somewhere far away.

It was a quiet moment.

When Shizuku left, she left behind a note.

『Ren-sensei. I hope it’s sunny tomorrow.』

“Ren-sensei.”

For the first time, my name appeared before “sensei” in her writing.

It was just one extra word.

But that single word carried weight—

And I had to take it seriously.

A little happiness.

And a faint sense of caution.

A counselor always lives somewhere between those two feelings.

After Shizuku left, I stayed in the counseling room for a while.

While listening to the sound of the rain, I wrote today’s notes.

About Akane.

About Haruto’s recent situation.

And about Shizuku calling me “Ren-sensei.”

My pen stopped.

I lined up the changes in Shizuku’s notes in order.

『Sensei』 → 『Sensei』→ 『Sensei』 → —『Ren-sensei.』

And then there was the movement of her lips that never turned into sound.

—“Ren.”

In her note, it said “Ren-sensei.”

But her lips had formed “Ren.”

—The “sensei” part was missing.

Two characters she didn’t write in the note.

Her lips moved as “Ren.”

Just the name, without “sensei.”

Was I overthinking it?

Probably.

It happened in just a moment. Maybe she had been trying to say “Ren-sensei” and stopped halfway.

Still—

I decided to record it.

『Shizuku Yukimura. During today’s visit, she requested to change how she addresses me to ‘Ren-sensei.’ Approved. Also observed silent lip movement (estimated as ‘Ren’). This is the second sign of attempted speech since the previous incident. However, this time no sound was produced. Continue observing progress. Be cautious about changes in the relationship due to the new form of address. In particular, pay attention to the boundary between ‘role = sensei’ and ‘person = Ren,’ which may start to blur.』

I set the pen down.

Outside the window, the rain had started to weaken.

Maybe tomorrow would be sunny.

Just like Shizuku wrote in her note.

(…“I hope it’s sunny tomorrow,” huh.)

The old Shizuku wouldn’t even have written something like that.

Wishing for good weather meant she had started hoping for the future.

And that was definitely a good sign.

The counselor in me judged it that way.

At the same time, I couldn’t deny that a small warmth stirred inside me when she called me by my name.

I wouldn’t deny it.

But whether I should label that feeling as “happiness”… I decided to leave that question open for now.

A counselor is allowed to have feelings.

But they must always stay aware of them, making sure those feelings don’t distort the relationship with the person they’re helping.

“Ren Asagiri. What are you feeling right now?”

I tried asking myself the same question I once asked Midori.

The answer—

Still hadn’t come.

Only the sound of rain filled the counseling room.