I Reincarnated as the Counselor NPC in a Dating Sim, and Now Every Heroine I Treat Becomes Obsessed with Me - Chapter 30: “Cultural Festival Prep—Each of Their Small Steps”

Chapter 30: “Cultural Festival Prep—Each of Their Small Steps”

Mid-September. 

Three weeks until the cultural festival.

Hanazono-gaoka Academy had started getting busy.

Draft posters were taped along the hallways, and from the classrooms came the sound of hammers and the smell of paint. 

After school, the building was filled with students rushing around, preparing.

My counseling room was also taking part in the festival.

The “Stress Check Experience Booth” I applied for through Midori had been approved, and on the day, we’d set up a simple psychological test and a consultation corner.

Honestly, I didn’t know if anyone would show up.

But it was still a good chance to let people know the counseling room existed.

Apparently, Rin had been telling her teammates, “There’s a really great teacher there,” so little by little, word was spreading.

During this time, the five girls were each involved in festival preparations in their own places.

—

Midori was the head of the cultural festival committee.

Last year’s Midori would’ve checked every task herself, made every decision herself, and taken on all the responsibility alone.

This year—was a little different.

“Asagiri-sensei, I’d like to go over the details for the counseling room’s exhibit.”

Midori came to the counseling room holding a file with the proposal.

An after-school visit. 

It was official business—but lately, after finishing her work, she had started staying a little longer for small talk before leaving.

“I’ve reviewed the proposal. It’s approved. —There’s just one thing I’d like to confirm. Who will be handling reception on the day? I think it might be difficult for you to manage visitors alone, Sensei. Should we assign some student council members?”

“Thanks, that would help a lot. But won’t that make things harder for you, Midori-san? With scheduling and assignments?”

“I’ve already delegated staff arrangements to my juniors. About a third of the work I handled last year is now being managed by them.”

“So you’ve learned to delegate.”

Midori adjusted the file neatly on her lap.

“I won’t say it’s not… a little unsettling to rely on others. If my juniors make a mistake, I’ll be the one responsible in the end. But—”

She looked at me.

“Even if they’re at seventy points, I can make up the remaining thirty. There’s no need for everything to be perfect. —That’s something I learned from you, Sensei.”

I hadn’t really taught her that.

All I said was, “It’s okay to be at seventy.”

She had taken that idea and applied it in her own way.

Midori’s ability to adapt—was impressive.

“I think that’s great. It suits you, Midori-san.”

“…Thank you.”

Midori smiled.

Just a little—but this time, there was warmth in it.

—

Akane was helping with her class’s event.

Class 2-3 was doing a haunted house.

Akane had ended up in charge of decorations—well, more like she got assigned there.

“…Why am I the one cutting cardboard…”

After school, she muttered that while holding a cutter in the corner of the classroom.

I stopped by during patrol and took a look.

Rin leaned over, watching what Akane was doing.

“Hinomiya-san, you kind of look like you’re enjoying this.”

“I’m not. —Hanasaki just wrote my name on the decorations team list without asking.”

So Haruto had put Akane on the decorations team.

On the other side of the classroom, Haruto was happily working with some classmates, building the frame.

He glanced toward Akane—and their eyes met.

“Hinomiya—bring that cardboard over when you’re done!”

“…Shut up. Come get it yourself.”

But Akane still picked up the cardboard and stood.

She carried it over to Haruto.

“Oh, thanks! Hinomiya, you’re really good at this!”

“…It’s nothing special.”

“No, seriously—you’re the only one cutting straight lines. Everyone else’s is all over the place.”

“…………”

Akane acted like she didn’t hear him and kept cutting the cardboard.

But the way she held the cutter—was just a little more careful than before.

I watched from the hallway.

Haruto was—good at this.

Instead of just “praising” her, he pointed out something real.

Not “you’re kind,” but “you’re good at cutting.”

Specific. Honest. No fluff.

He had clearly learned from how things went before summer.

—And maybe Akane’s change wasn’t just because she got praised.

Just the fact that someone was actually paying attention to her work—that alone was something new for her.

As I was about to leave the classroom, our eyes met.

Akane glanced at me for a split second—then looked away.

That look said, “You were watching, huh.”

I gave a small wave and continued down the hallway.

—

Rin was busy, juggling both class prep and club activities.

“Sensei, listen to this!”

After school in the counseling room, Rin spoke quickly while sipping her tea.

“I was helping with class decorations, and a junior asked me, ‘Rin-senpai, what about soccer practice?’ And I just—said, ‘I’m taking today off!’”

“You took a break?”

“Yeah! I told the coach beforehand, ‘I’m off for festival prep.’ —The old me would’ve finished practice first, then gone back to the classroom and worked late into the night.”

“Mm.”

“But now—I can switch properly. Like, ‘Today’s for this, tomorrow’s for that.’ I don’t have to do everything at once.”

She finished her tea.

“Hanasaki-kun told me, ‘Rin, don’t push yourself too hard. If you need help, just say so.’ He was looking out for me in his own way.”

“Hanasaki-kun’s a good guy.”

“Yeah. —But Sensei, the reason I could actually tell my coach ‘I’m taking today off’… was because you asked me, ‘Which is worse—showing weakness or breaking down?’ If you hadn’t said that, I’d probably still be trying to carry everything alone.”

She grinned.

“Hanasaki-kun tells me ‘don’t overdo it.’ Sensei, you ask me ‘what are you going to do?’ —Having both of those… that’s why I can keep going.”

She acknowledged both Haruto and me.

That straightforward honesty—that was just like Rin.

—

Shizuku was preparing an exhibit in the library for the cultural festival.

The library committee’s display—“Recommended Books.”

Each member would pick one book and write a small promo card for it.

When Shizuku came to the counseling room, she held a small card in her hand.

『Ren-sensei. I wrote a POP (display card). Please take a look』

She handed it to me.

It was for Night on the Galactic Railroad.

Handwritten text.

Careful, neat writing.

『This book is about a lonely boy who travels through the stars with a friend. What remains at the end of the journey is not sadness, but the warmth of the time they spent together. —First Year, Shizuku Yukimura』

“…This is really good. You put it in your own words, Shizuku-chan.”

She nodded.

『One of the library committee members said, “I like your writing, Shizuku-chan”』

“That must’ve made you happy.”

『Yes. Also, I asked Hanasaki-san to write a POP too. He said he’ll do one for Kokoro』

“I’m looking forward to seeing his.”

『Yes. I’m a little worried, though』

Her honesty made me smile.

“It’ll be fine. Hanasaki-kun’s been improving.”

『Yes. —But the person I most wanted to read a POP from… is Ren-sensei. Won’t you write one?』

“I’ve got the counseling room booth to handle… but—maybe I’ll write one. If you’ll display it in your section.”

Shizuku’s eyes—lit up.

『Please do. If there’s a POP from Ren-sensei, I’m sure a lot of people will come』

“I don’t have that kind of pull.”

『You do』

She wrote it firmly.

The words carried weight.

“…Alright then, what book should I pick? Any recommendations, Shizuku-chan?”

She thought for a moment, then wrote.

『I want to know what book Ren-sensei would choose. I won’t recommend one. Please choose it yourself』

Shizuku was telling me to choose on my own.

Usually, I was the one telling her that.

Our roles—were slowly becoming more equal.

“Got it. I’ll think about it.”

Shizuku nodded, satisfied.

—

Mio was fully focused on drama club practice.

The cultural festival play, “The Girl with the Mask.”

An original script. 

Practice had gotten serious lately, so she hadn’t been coming to the counseling room as often.

But this week—

Another note had been slipped under the counseling room door.

『Next Thursday. Same place. Same time. Come. —Second full run-through』

A command. No name.

It was Mio.

It seemed she planned to show me the final rehearsal before the festival.

Last time, she stopped at the scene where the mask came off.

That empty face.

This time—

What would happen?

—

After school, I was alone in the counseling room, preparing for the cultural festival.

As I worked on the stress-check questionnaire, I thought back on everything I’d seen today.

I had seen all five of them—in their own places.

Midori was in the hallway, holding a committee binder, giving instructions to her juniors.

Beside her, one of them was frantically taking notes.

Her posture was straight as always—but it didn’t have that same stiffness anymore.

Akane was in the classroom, carrying a stack of cardboard.

As they passed each other, Haruto called out, “Thanks!”

Akane replied, “Shut up.”

Rin was painting with her classmates, laughing.

At one point, she said, “Break time!” on her own and went to sit on a bench.

Shizuku was by the library window, finishing up her POP card.

Next to her was another library committee member, and the two of them were talking about something.

She probably wasn’t speaking out loud—but I could see them communicating through her notepad.

I didn’t see Mio.

She was probably in the small hall, practicing.

The five of them—were each moving in their own places, with their own roles.

Not inside the counseling room.

Not next to me—but on their own feet.

(…It’s a good sight.)

That’s what I honestly thought.

Their worlds were expanding.

Midori was trusting her juniors with work.

Akane was taking part in class activities.

Rin had learned how to rest.

Shizuku was working together with another library committee member.

It was a scene I couldn’t have imagined back in April.

But—

By evening, they would come to the counseling room.

After doing their best in their own places, they would return here.

That meant they had a “safe place” to come back to.

And as part of recovery, that was normal.

Normal—

But still.

Having only one place to return to… that might become a problem someday.

For now, though—it should be fine.

I closed the window and went back to working on the questionnaire.

Two weeks until the cultural festival.