I Reincarnated as the Counselor NPC in a Dating Sim, and Now Every Heroine I Treat Becomes Obsessed with Me - Chapter 26: “Summer Promise—Rin’s Consultation, and a Letter from Midori”

Chapter 26: “Summer Promise—Rin’s Consultation, and a Letter from Midori”

Let me go back a bit

It was late July, just after summer vacation had begun.
A few days before the training camp.

Rin came to the counseling room.
To keep the promise she made before the break—“Can I come once before camp?”

“Sensei, hey!”

Her voice was lively.

But after coming in, taking the tea, and having a sip—her tone softened just a little.

“Um… there’s something I want to talk about.”

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

She held the teacup with both hands.

Even though it was summer, she chose hot tea.

Maybe it helped her settle more than something cold.

“Camp starts next week.”

“Mm.”

“About my leg… I haven’t told the team yet.”

Rin’s ankle.

She had injured it before the inter-high qualifiers, and it still hadn’t fully healed.
She kept practicing, but going all out was still difficult.

“Your advisor?”

“I haven’t told them either. —They might’ve noticed I’ve been holding back a bit, but nothing official.”

“The camp’s five days, right? Sounds intense.”

“Yeah. Morning practice, mid-day, afternoon… then meetings in the evening. Five days straight.”

She stared down at her cup.

“I’m the captain, you know. I’m supposed to lead the team. I have to keep everyone motivated during camp—and if I start saying I’m injured, that’ll just drag everyone down, right?”

“…Do you really think that?”

“I do. Everyone relaxes when they see me running like usual. If the captain’s fine, then everything’s fine. —If I fall apart, they will too.”

There was strength in her voice.

Not her usual cheerful tone—this was Rin carrying responsibility.

“Rin-san.”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you something again?”

She looked at me.

“Right now—are you having fun?”

Her eyes wavered.

It was the same question as before.
The one I asked the first time she came here alone—when she said she was tired.

She tried to smile.
Tried to put on her usual expression—then stopped halfway.

“…It’s not like I’m not having fun. I like soccer. I like the team.”

“Mm.”

“But… I’m scared of the camp. I don’t know if my leg will hold up. And I don’t know what happens if it doesn’t. That’s what scares me.”

She said it.

—“I’m scared.”

At the end of the first term, she had finally managed to say, “I’m tired.”
Now, she could say, “I’m scared.”

She was learning how to put her feelings into words.

“Rin-san. Whether you tell your advisor or your team about your leg—that’s your decision. I’m not going to tell you that you have to.”

“…Okay.”

“But one thing. If your body breaks, there’s no undoing it. If your ankle gets seriously damaged, you might not be able to play soccer again. —So what matters more? A five-day camp, or the rest of your soccer life?”

Rin stayed silent for a while.

She took a sip of her tea.

“…I know, logically. I know I should say something. But—if the captain shows weakness…”

“Which is worse for the team? The captain showing weakness—or the captain breaking down?”

Her eyes widened.

“…Breaking down is worse. —If I’m gone, that’s worse.”

“Yeah. I think so too.”

She set the cup down and clasped her hands on her knees.

“…Sensei. During camp—I’ll try to say it. To the coach. Even if I can’t tell them everything… at least about my leg. I’ll ask if they can adjust my training.”

“Mm.”

“And if I can’t say it—can I call you? Maybe at night?”

“Of course. Anytime.”

She smiled.

This time, it was softer. More natural than her usual bright grin.

“Sensei, you’re really amazing. For a second, I thought about asking Hanasaki-kun too—but if it were him, he’d probably just say, ‘It’ll be fine, Rin! You’ve got this!’ No bad intentions or anything.”

“…Yeah.”

“And that would make me feel better too—but… I don’t think that’s what I need right now. What I needed was someone who’d tell me it’s okay to be scared… and then ask what I’m going to do.”

She stood up.

“Thank you! I’ll do my best at camp. —Well… not ‘do my best’… I’ll do my best not to break myself.”

“That’s enough. Take care.”

“Yeah!”

She left, full of her usual energy.

—

One day in August.

A letter arrived in the counseling room’s mailbox.

A high-quality envelope. 

Neat, careful handwriting.
The sender—Midori Hojouin.

It was a summer greeting.

The format was perfect.
Seasonal greetings, thanks to the academy, words of appreciation for the teachers.

A flawless letter—exactly what you’d expect from a daughter of the Hojouin family.

But—there was a postscript.

The pressure of the pen was clearly different from the main text.

The main body was signed “Midori Hojouin.”
The postscript—was more relaxed.

『P.S. Today was seventy-two points. I don’t know about tomorrow.』

I read that postscript a few times.

—“Seventy-two points.”

Not a hundred. Not sixty-five. Seventy-two.

Midori—was scoring herself.

And now, she could give herself something other than a perfect hundred.

And “I don’t know about tomorrow.”

That didn’t sound like anxiety—

It felt closer to acceptance.

—“Tomorrow might be different… and that’s okay.”

Even while staying with the Hojouin family, she hadn’t returned to “one hundred.”

Or maybe—

She had put the armor of “one hundred” back on, but underneath it, she was still holding onto her “seventy-two self.”

And that “seventy-two self”—she only showed it to me.

I felt happy.

Honestly.

Midori was protecting that seventy-two version of herself beneath that perfect armor.

I wrote a reply.

A proper summer greeting in return.
Seasonal words, a line wishing her good health, a note about the next term.

A perfectly appropriate message as a teacher.

But—

I added one line at the end.

『P.S. Seventy-two points is impressive.』

That was all.

—

On my way to the front gate to mail the letter, I ran into Haruto.

“Ah, Asagiri-sensei! Hey!”

“Hello, Hanasaki-kun. You’re here even during summer vacation?”

“The library. Yukimura-san recommended some books, so I thought I’d study a bit. —Listening to her thoughts made me want to read more seriously too.”

I was a little surprised.

Through exchanging books with Shizuku, Haruto had realized—on his own—that his thinking was a bit shallow.
And now, he was trying to improve.

“That’s good. What are you reading?”

“Uh… Kokoro. By Natsume Soseki. Yukimura-san told me, ‘Take your time with this one.’”

So Shizuku had told him to slow down.
That meant—she was probably trying, in her own way, to help him read more deeply.

“Kokoro, huh. It’s heavy, but a good one.”

“Yeah. I’m still at the beginning, but… that ‘Sensei’ character really stands out. He feels… kind of lonely.”

Haruto’s impression—

This time, it had more depth.

Instead of just saying “it’s interesting,” he was reaching toward the character’s inner world.

“Tell me what you think after you finish it.”

“Yeah! —Oh, and I wanted to ask you too, Sensei. What do you think about the main character in Kokoro?”

“…Hmm. Let’s talk about it after you finish. If I say anything now, it’ll spoil it.”

“Ah, true! Then I’ll come see you once I’m done!”

Haruto smiled and headed toward the library.

He was—growing.

Shizuku’s influence had pushed him forward, and now he was trying to think more deeply on his own.

But still—

The girls hadn’t fully come to trust him yet.

Haruto said the character called “Sensei” felt lonely.

The “Sensei” from Kokoro.
A man carrying secrets, living in solitude.

—Maybe I’m not that different.

—

Early August.

Rin came to the counseling room after finishing her training camp.
The same promise she made over the phone—“Can we meet soon?”

“Sensei, I’m back!”

Her skin was tanned.
Her body looked a little more toned than before.

She had the face of someone who made it through camp.

“Welcome back. Your leg—same as what you told me on the phone?”

“Yeah! I told the coach properly, and they adjusted my training. —Just like I said.”

“Good. So, there’s something you couldn’t really talk about on the phone, right?”

Rin grinned.

Then she picked up the tea, took a sip—and her expression shifted slightly.

“Yeah. About that.”

“Mm.”

“During camp, I was talking with my teammates at night. After lights-out, just chatting.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Then one of them asked me—‘Rin, you’ve kind of changed lately, haven’t you? Like… you feel more natural now. More relaxed.’”

“…I see.”

“Then another girl said, ‘Is it because you’ve been going to the counseling room?’ Seems like some of them knew I’ve been coming here.”

She made a slightly troubled face.

“I wasn’t hiding it exactly, but I wasn’t telling people either. Still, they found out. —And then they started asking me, ‘What’s it like? Can I go too?’”

“That’s a good thing. What did you tell them?”

“I said, ‘There’s a really great teacher there. You get tea, and he actually listens. If you feel like it, you should try going.’”

She scratched her head a little, looking embarrassed.

“…I kind of advertised you. That okay?”

“Thanks. I’m glad to hear that.”

“And—this is the main part.”

Rin set her cup down.

Her eyes turned serious.

“I thought about a lot of things during camp. About the team. About myself. —And about you, Sensei.”

“About me?”

“If you weren’t there, I don’t think I would’ve said anything about my leg during camp. I would’ve just kept pushing until I broke—and only regretted it afterward. —Because you asked me what I should do, even though I was scared… I was able to decide for myself.”

“You’re the one who made the decision. I just asked the question.”

“That’s what matters. Having someone who asks.”

She looked straight at me.

“After I told them about my leg during camp—my teammates were really supportive. They helped adjust my training, and during breaks they kept checking on me, like, ‘Rin, you okay?’”

“That’s good.”

“But… you know—before, I think that would’ve been hard for me. I would’ve taken it as, ‘They’re worried about me = I’m causing trouble.’ But this time, I could just say ‘thanks’ honestly. —Even I was surprised.”

“That’s a big change, Rin-san.”

“You think so…? Ever since you asked me what I should do, even though I’m scared… I feel like I’ve been changing little by little. Like… it’s okay to admit I’m not perfect. And even if I show that side of me, the team won’t just fall apart.”

She looked a little surprised at her own words.

“…I can actually think like this now, huh. Before, all I had in my head was ‘the captain has to be strong.’”

“You can think that way now because you’ve started facing your own feelings.”

She gave a slightly embarrassed smile and finished her tea.

“Sensei. Let’s do this again next term.”

“Of course.”

“Oh, and—some of my teammates might come here too. So… take care of them when they do.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Rin waved and left.

—

Evening.

Alone in the counseling room, I opened my notebook.

Midori’s letter.
Rin’s report.
Haruto’s growth.

Each of them was moving forward, little by little.
Step by step, through the long stretch of summer vacation.

Midori was protecting her “seventy-two self” while back home.

Rin chose to show her weakness during camp.

Haruto was trying to change the way he reads.

It was all heading in a good direction.

Without a doubt.

But Rin’s words stayed with me.

—“If you weren’t there, I couldn’t have said it.”

That was her honest feeling.

And it made me happy.

But at the same time—it also meant, “Because you were there, I could say it.”

What would happen—if I wasn’t there?

It was too early to think too deeply about that.

It was still summer.

It had only just begun.

I closed the window and turned off the lights.

Summer—was still going on.