Haruna Mishima / After School Angel 

“…It’s over. My music festival.”

Muttering this, I gazed thoughtfully at the students busily cleaning up after the festival.

My name is Haruna Mishima.

Today, I got to sing on the music festival stage.
It was possible thanks to him, the boy sitting next to me in class…

I was so nervous before going on stage, maybe because he was watching… I was able to sing with a lot of fun.

“I want to be a singer.”

For that dream of mine, I made a selfish request to him, who was on the music festival committee.

“I want you to let me enter!”

I suddenly asked him to “walk home together,” and made such a request after the festival entry period had passed…
I must have caused him trouble.

But he seriously listened to me, without laughing.
And today, he made it possible for me to stand on the music festival stage.

As the one who made my wish come true, I found myself a little interested in him.

I spotted him among the students cleaning up.
As a member of the music festival committee, he was carrying more luggage than the others and working efficiently.

Unconsciously following him with my eyes, I kept thinking.

I wanted to properly thank him for everything up until today… and for today…
Ah, but is it okay to talk to him out of nowhere…?

My thoughts kept swirling around in my head.

Looking back now, how did I ever manage to boldly invite him,
saying “Want to walk home together?”?

Ah, right.
Maybe it’s because I was desperate to convince my parents back then.
That must be it.

But then, what about now…?
I’m not desperate… am I…?

No, that’s not it. Something feels different from back then.
I just can’t put my finger on what it is…

But why?
Why am I so troubled over just saying thank you?

I kept worrying about it, unable to take my eyes off him as he continued cleaning up after the music festival.

Then, my chest tightened a little.

What is… this feeling…

After the music festival, I started talking to my seatmate more often.

He’s a sincere person who listens carefully to what people say, making him really easy to talk to.
But he can also be a little too serious sometimes. When I whispered to him during class, he answered normally, and the teacher scolded only him.

Even though it was my fault, he was still the only one who got scolded, so I wrote “Sorry” on the edge of my notebook and showed it to him. But then he gave me a wry smile and looked apologetic, as if it was his fault.

So we’d greet each other in the classroom in the morning, talk a bit during breaks, say goodbye after school…

All these little moments piled up, slowly making the unfamiliar feeling inside me grow bigger.

A strange feeling I couldn’t even understand myself…

A few days after the music festival, someone from a talent agency came to my house.

They said they had seen my performance at the festival and had come to scout me.

I talked with the talent agency person, along with my parents.
About singing activities, school, the future…

After we discussed everything, my parents finally said they would leave the decision up to me.
It was like the time they were against my dream was a lie.

But I was still hesitant.

The door to my dream of becoming a singer was starting to open.
Yet, somehow, an even greater anxiety threatened to crush me.

Carrying those feelings, I ended up walking home with my seatmate.

Neither of us had specifically asked the other, but somehow our timing just aligned…

On the way home, we talked about school, music, and other trivial things, but I felt strangely tense and couldn’t keep the conversation flowing.

It never happened when we talked at school.

With these thoughts and my heart beating faster and faster, I felt that strange, unfamiliar feeling grow a little bigger inside me.

I was still hesitating.

I hadn’t talked to my parents about the scouting offer since then. I’m sure they were waiting for my decision.
But that felt a little heavy on me, and I wanted someone to listen… I found myself thinking that way.

I think I’ve gradually opened up to my seatmate, since we’ve started going home together a few times.
I have reached the point where I can talk about class stuff or music without feeling nervous.

Once we found a stray cat on the roadside, and I ran over to pet it. He smiled gently and said, “You like cats, huh?”
Thinking back, I feel a little embarrassed now; maybe I got a bit too excited and childish then. But his gentle smile and voice seemed to lighten my heart, and somehow, being with him made me feel safe.

So… Because it was him…
I wanted him to listen.

One day on the way home, he said to me.

“Is something bothering you?”

My heart skipped a beat.
I thought I could put on my usual smile, but it seems it wasn’t convincing enough.

“I guess you figured it out… Yeah, I should tell you…”

I’ll tell him now.

He would surely listen to me properly, just like he did during the music festival.
And so, I spoke.

“I… got scouted.”

He seemed slightly surprised to hear that.

“What do you think I should do?”

Not wanting to create silence, I asked immediately.
But he remained quiet…

Just then, it started to rain.
I opened the umbrella I always carried and offered it to him.
He took it, and I stepped under it too.
This is… sharing an umbrella, right?

Feeling a little calmer, I confessed my feelings to him, who was close enough that our shoulders touched.

“I think you should do what you feel is right. Besides, I want to see you singing again.”

His words, spoken to me with such earnest eyes, erased the doubts and anxiety inside me.
And I began to realize that feeling growing inside me.

I see… This feeling must surely be…