I Reincarnated as the Counselor NPC in a Dating Sim, and Now Every Heroine I Treat Becomes Obsessed with Me - Chapter 19: “Umbrellas and Distance—The Day Shizuku’s World Starts Expanding Beyond the Counseling Room”

Chapter 19: “Umbrellas and Distance—The Day Shizuku’s World Starts Expanding Beyond the Counseling Room”

The next day.

Just like Shizuku wrote in her note, it was sunny.

A brief break in the rainy season.

The blue sky peeked through the clouds, bright and clear. The air was still humid, but the breeze felt pleasant.

Lunch break.

On the rooftop.

My lunch time with Akane had resumed.

Today’s lunch was a grilled meat bento. Akane had complained the other day that “the sauce in these is way too much,” but she still finished it every time. Complaining was basically her version of saying hello.

While eating, Akane suddenly spoke.

“…That Yukimura girl seems different lately.”

I paused with my chopsticks.

It was rare for Shizuku’s name to come up from Akane.

“Different?”

“I ran into her a few times in the counseling room. At first, the moment I walked in, she’d hide her face behind a book. But the other day she didn’t. She glanced at me for a second… then gave a small bow.”

“Yeah. Shizuku-chan’s been getting calmer lately.”

“Hm.”

Akane tossed a piece of grilled meat into her mouth.

“…Hey. That girl… the one who can’t talk. Will that get fixed?”

A straightforward question.

Very Akane-like.

“It’s not really about fixing it or not. She’s slowly building a sense of safety at her own pace. From there, she’ll gradually find more ways to express herself. Right now, she’s in the middle of that process.”

“…So basically, it takes time.”

“Yeah. It takes time.”

“But she is changing a little, right? That girl.”

“Yeah. Little by little.”

Akane looked up at the sky.

“…Am I changing little by little too, I wonder.”

“Akane—your range of acceptable bento menus has definitely expanded.”

“That’s not what I meant, idiot.”

Still, the corner of her mouth lifted slightly.

—

After school.

Shizuku came to the counseling room.

Today, something about her felt a little different.

The moment she entered, she handed me a note.

Not when she was leaving.

Not after drawing like usual—

But immediately after sitting down.

『Ren-sensei, may I talk about something today?』

“Of course. Anything.”

Shizuku began writing again.

The note was longer than usual.

Her pen stopped several times, then started moving again.

It was obvious she was choosing her words carefully.

She handed the note to me.

『In the library, I ran into Hanasaki-san again. He said, ‘I still haven’t heard your book recommendation. If you’d like, could you tell me?’ This time he showed me his notebook and said, ‘You can write it if you want.’』

I read the note silently.

Haruto—

Had suggested writing to communicate with Shizuku.

(…Haruto Hanasaki, you…)

Honestly, I was surprised.

When did Haruto realize that Shizuku was a girl who couldn’t speak?

Last time, he had spoken to her normally. When she didn’t reply, he simply said, “Alright, maybe next time,” and walked away.

But this time, he said, “You can write it if you want,” adjusting to Shizuku’s way of communicating.

This was not something that happened in the game’s story.

In the game, Haruto kept the same attitude until the end: “Come on, try talking with me.”

Shizuku’s affection only increased if she chose the option to speak.

But the Haruto in this world made a different choice.

He noticed her situation and changed how he approached her.

(…So he’s not just a guy whose kindness keeps missing the mark. He can learn. He’s growing.)

I needed a moment to sort out my feelings.

Was I… happy about that?

Or something else?

Shizuku was still writing the rest of her note.

『I wrote one recommended book in Hanasaki-san’s notebook. Night on the Galactic Railroad.』

“You wrote it. —That’s great.”

Shizuku gave a small nod.

This was a big change.

Shizuku had used her notes to communicate with someone other than me, outside the counseling room.

Inside the counseling room, she wrote notes to me.

And now, in the library, she had written one for Haruto too.

Which meant—

Shizuku’s “note-based communication” was starting to expand beyond just her relationship with me.

As a counselor, this was the best kind of news.

Her world was getting bigger.

Instead of depending only on me, she was using the skills she practiced here to connect with other people.

This was what recovery looked like.

Practicing something in the counseling room, and then being able to use it in the outside world.

That was the goal.

“Shizuku-chan, that’s really great. You told Hanasaki-kun about a book.”

She began writing another note.

『Hanasaki-san said, ‘Thank you! I’ll read it!’ He was smiling.』

She had noticed Haruto’s smile and written it down.

She observed another person’s expression and turned it into words.

Social awareness developing.

A good sign.

“Hanasaki-kun was probably happy too. I think he really wanted to hear your recommendation.”

Shizuku nodded.

Then—

She paused, as if thinking about something for a moment.

After that, she began writing another note.

『But I hesitated a little about recommending the same book I first read in this room.』

I read the note and paused for a moment.

Night on the Galactic Railroad.

The first book Shizuku had chosen from the shelf.

The book she read here in my counseling room.

A small thing the two of us shared.

And now—

She had recommended it to Haruto too.

Shizuku wrote that she “hesitated.”

What exactly was behind that hesitation?

One possibility:

For Shizuku, Night on the Galactic Railroad symbolized the time she spent with Ren-sensei. Sharing it with someone else might have felt uncomfortable.

—A sign of possessiveness. A sign of dependence.

Another possibility:

She wondered whether it was okay to share a book that felt special between her and Ren-sensei.

—A sign of growing awareness of others.

Which was it?

Or maybe both.

“But you still told him about it.”

Shizuku nodded.

“I think that was the right choice. Good books deserve to be shared with lots of people. That book you showed me—well, technically you picked it from the shelf—but you passed its charm on to Hanasaki-kun too. That’s something to be happy about.”

I deliberately said “happy.”

If Shizuku felt even a little guilty about “giving something special she shared with Ren-sensei to someone else,” then it was my job to release her from that feeling.

Something doesn’t have to belong to just one person.

It can be shared.

—That was an important message for moving from dependence to a healthier kind of relationship.

Shizuku looked at my face for a moment.

Then she gave a small nod.

She looked relieved.

『If Ren-sensei is happy, then I’m glad.』

That sentence made something catch in my mind.

—“If Ren-sensei is happy.”

Shizuku was judging her actions based on what Ren-sensei would think.

Telling him about the book was a good step.

But if it was good not because she wanted to do it, but because Ren-sensei said it made him happy—

Then she was still inside that structure of dependence.

Should I point that out now?

No.

It was too early.

Shizuku’s world was clearly expanding.

She wrote to Haruto in the library. That was real progress.

Pointing out the dependency right now might ruin that step forward.

Timing mattered.

One day, Shizuku would be able to say, “I did it because I wanted to.”

Until that day came, I would wait.

“Are you going to the library again tomorrow?”

She thought for a moment.

Then began writing another note.

『I’m not sure. But… I might go.』

“Not sure” and “might go.”

It wasn’t a clear yes or no.

But—

It wasn’t “I won’t go,” either.

In Shizuku’s world, a small door outside the counseling room had quietly begun to open.

—

Evening.

After Shizuku left, I opened the window of the counseling room and breathed in the air between rainy days.

The smell of damp earth and humidity filled the air.

The grass in the schoolyard shone brightly under the light after the rain.

I found myself thinking about Haruto.

About how he had changed his approach.

About how he suggested writing instead.

That wasn’t something the game ever gave as a choice.

Not “Come on, try talking with me.”

But “You can write it if you want.”

Haruto was growing.

In this world, as a real person.

Honestly—

It made me happy.

Shizuku’s world was expanding too.

The note-writing method she had only used inside my counseling room was now something she could use outside, in the real world.

That was recovery.

As a counselor, there was no better result than that.

(…But)

I couldn’t deny something else.

Just a little—

A tiny feeling of loneliness.

Like a parent watching their child finally ride a bicycle on their own and speed away.

You’re happy.

You’re really happy.

But the hand that used to hold the training wheels suddenly has nothing to do anymore.

That kind of feeling.

(Well… counseling is that kind of job. The goal is for the person you’re helping to no longer need you. If you start feeling lonely when that happens, then you’re not much of a professional.)

I let out a small, wry smile.

Still, Shizuku was nowhere near the point of “not needing me anymore.”

Her recovery had only just begun.

Writing a single note in the library didn’t mean she could freely communicate with the outside world yet.

For now, I would keep doing the same things.

Making tea.

Letting her draw.

Reading the notes she handed me.

And quietly watching as the distance she could walk on her own slowly grew.

That was my job.

(…Haruto Hanasaki. Honestly, I’m grateful you figured out the idea of writing on your own. There’s a limit to how much I can expand Shizuku’s world by myself. But you—someone from outside the counseling room—reached out to her. —You really are a good protagonist.)

I closed the window.

The sky had begun turning orange with the evening sunset.

Tomorrow, Shizuku might go to the library.

Or maybe she wouldn’t.

Either way was fine.

It would be her choice.

I would be here.

Just like always.