Mei Saekawa 

They say that people “unconsciously play countless versions of themselves.”
At school, at work, as friends, as lovers, as parents.
When facing someone in various situations, people play the ideal version of themselves they want to show the other person to varying degrees.
All for “their own sake…”

It had already been a month since I started high school, and it was lunchtime one day.
I mechanically wolfed down the convenience store sandwich I’d bought on my way to school, then opened a novel I’d found stacked on the shelf at a bookstore, one I wasn’t particularly interested in.
Perhaps because a month had passed and relationships had solidified, the classroom was filled with chatter from all corners, which was a bit grating on my ears.
Sure enough, I couldn’t take in a single word of the book. I was just skimming the pages, pretending to read, when a girl from my class spoke up.

“Hey, ‘Class President.’ When is the deadline for that assignment from the other day?”
“It’s by the end of this week. The teacher said it’s strictly enforced, so you might want to be careful.”

I replied with a gentle smile.
My classmate simply said, “Thanks,” and returned to the table where her close-knit group was waiting. They exchanged glances and started giggling.
I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could imagine it.
They were probably laughing at me.

I am… “not the Class President.”
There’s an actual Class President, and there’s no way I’d volunteer for such a troublesome position.
Serious, with good grades, always well-groomed and flawless… “Class President” is a “nickname” given to me to describe exactly that.
It might not be the most flattering of nicknames.
Ever since I entered school, I’ve consistently spoken to my classmates using honorifics, and apparently, my tone comes across as comical. The way people call me “Class President” – not just my classmates, but even the teachers – always carries a hint of mockery.

The door on the teachers’ side swung open, and a boy from the neighboring class walked in.
A student who had already been designated “the hottie in the grade” by some of the girls.
The girls who had just noticed him enter instantly smoothed their hair and stopped their vulgar chatter. Soon after, when the “hottie” left the classroom with his friend, they all slumped back into their seats at once.

They’re playing their part.
Everyone is playing their part.
They want to be seen as cute, to be thought of as respectable, to be highly regarded.
They do it voluntarily, to increase their value in the eyes of others.

I’m no different.
But the extent of it is completely different.
I’ve been playing the role of a “different person” all along.
The role of the class president with excellent grades and impeccable conduct.

Of course, all of that is a complete and utter lie.

Wearing a mask cast from the wax of lies, I impersonate a character named “Mei Saekawa”. Every word, every gesture, every action… all of it is fake.
There isn’t a shred of my true self in there.
Because that was the only way I could survive.

I was born the daughter of a major star. A great actress who, since her debut in her teens, has climbed to the top through sheer talent, whether in TV dramas, movies, or theater.
Having spent my life with just my mother, who divorced my father before I was old enough to remember, I’ve always been the focus of expectant gazes.
Eyes filled with curiosity, wondering, “How will the daughter of a great actress behave?”
Even though I’m not a character from a video game or manga, the first things people see are “talent,” “bloodline,” and “genetics.”
On top of that, I’m bombarded with selfish judgments, whether I’m “cute” or “not cute”, without any tact.
From my mother’s associates to the streets, sidewalks, elementary school, and middle school… people everywhere have expectations of me.
Silly expectations like, “Maybe we’ll get to see something entertaining.”
My mother never protected me. Or rather, she was always swamped with work and rarely came home, so she probably never even noticed what I was thinking.

If I dressed up and acted flashy, people would say, “Just like her mother.”
If I acted aloof and rebellious, they’d say, “Even though she’s her daughter.”
Fed up with it all, and never allowed to rely on anyone, I eventually created my own version of myself. “The bland and unremarkable Mei Saekawa.”
A safe version of myself who wouldn’t give anyone unnecessary joy or cause them disappointment, someone who seemed completely unrelated to my actress mother.
By playing the role of this Mei Saekawa I had created, I protected my heart.
But perhaps because I’d been doing something so twisted for so long, the heart I thought I was protecting has been feeling strange lately.
At some point, I’d completely forgotten what kind of person my true self actually was.

Suddenly, I noticed a gaze coming through the window in the classroom door and turned to look. My eyes met those of some boys from another class peering in from the hallway.
They feigned panic, as if joking, then ran off laughing.
Watching them, I let out a weary sigh.

It seems people are starting to figure out that I’m the daughter of an actress.
No matter how hard I try to hide it, maybe there’s no stopping the spread of rumors.
I experienced this feeling back in elementary and middle school, too.
Sometimes I’d be fawned over for no reason, other times people would act aloof. This time, it’s probably the “I just don’t like her for some reason” type.
I could feel that atmosphere spreading not just through the class, but throughout the entire grade.
Being called contemptuous names like “Class President” is another reason for this.

I went to the trouble of moving to the countryside to live on my own, but this makes it all almost pointless.
Another boring school life is about to begin.
If it was going to be like this, I should have just stayed in Tokyo.
Lowering my eyes back to the novel, I grumbled to myself.
But I won’t let my act as “Mei Saekawa” slip.
Without letting any of my unpleasant feelings show, I’ll keep a firm smile on my lips.

I suppose my plan is to wait until the new students have gotten used to school life. After waiting for a month to pass since enrollment, the review period for choosing a club began.
Whether athletic or cultural, club activities seem to be relatively popular at this school, and enthusiastic recruitment efforts by upperclassmen are in full swing.
On the way to school, during lunch break, and after school. I received invitations from all over, but I politely declined them to avoid causing any hard feelings.
It wasn’t a matter of interest; I had no intention of joining a club from the start.

Before long, a week had passed since the review period began.
It was the last day recruitment was allowed, but since most freshmen had already decided which club to join, the upperclassmen doing the recruiting were few and far between.
Basically, the clubs still trying to recruit at the last minute were probably the unpopular ones.
Ignoring my classmates who had already started their club activities, I quickly finished getting ready to go home, left the classroom, and headed for the school gate.
For some reason, the first-year students were on the top floor. As I walked down the hallway, thinking about how much of a drag it was to climb and descend those stairs… I heard a voice from outside the window, from the courtyard.
It wasn’t just someone fooling around and making noise. It was a voice resonating from the depths of someone’s heart, a voice meant to reach someone.
Curious, I poked my head out the window to see where the sound was coming from.
In the middle of the courtyard, I saw what could barely be called a stage; just a few worn-out wooden pallets lined up.
On a chair placed there sat a single female student.
There was no one else around; she was all alone, reciting what sounded like lines from a play.

“…A play?”

I could have just gone straight home. But even if I hurried back, I didn’t have any friends to hang out with, and since studying was pretty much the only thing I had to do, I decided to just watch it for a bit.
She had a bright, bleached, flashy bob. She looked strangely good in her rumpled uniform and kept the story moving forward with just her lines while sitting in the chair.
As I watched, I quickly figured out what it was about.
A man confessing his sins in a church confessional. As he speaks, as if questioning himself about his sins, he gradually becomes aware of the madness within himself. That was the gist of it.
At first, I didn’t think her acting was particularly good.
Her voice was husky and not exactly clear, and her movements sometimes seemed out of sync with the scene.
Still, for some reason, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
I began to fall into the illusion that a terrifying man with bloodshot eyes, about to commit a heinous act, was actually standing in the courtyard of an ordinary high school in the countryside.
Before I knew it, the play had reached its climax, and just as the man left the room, saying, “I’ve been able to return to my true self,” the play ended.
The student with the short haircut, who had portrayed the act of leaving the room by stepping down from the stage, stood motionless for a moment, then suddenly raised her head, looked up at the school building, and said:

“Thank you so much for watching~~~~!!”

They were words of thanks to the audience.
They were directed at the only audience member present from start to finish… that is, me.
Feeling as if an actor on stage had suddenly pointed a finger at me in the audience, I froze in surprise. But without waiting for my reaction, the student with the short haircut continued:

“Hey, let’s~ talk~! I’m coming over there, so wait for me~”

Is she coming? Here? To talk to me?
I grabbed my bag and started running on reflex.
Flashy hair, a uniform worn with a casual flair.
I don’t know if it’s for a club or just a hobby, but she has the mental strength to pull off something that eye-catching all by herself.
It was obvious this was going to be a hassle.
So I ran away.
To make absolutely sure I wouldn’t run into her, I chose the route furthest from the courtyard and ran toward the school gate.
Even after passing through the gate, I stayed on guard in case she caught up, and only when I turned onto a back alley did I finally slow down.

I was out of breath.
My shoulders were heaving.
My shirt was slightly damp with sweat.
I’m not bad at sports, and I wasn’t running at full speed.
Yet, no matter how much I tried to catch my breath, the pounding in my chest wouldn’t subside.

“What was that all about… her…”

From that day on, that image remained in the back of my mind.
The figure of that girl, with her short, swept-back bangs, was etched into my memory.

It was a day so hot I felt like complaining that the spring air had vanished in the blink of an eye. Even though the rainy season hadn’t started yet, it felt like nothing but summer.
During the long homeroom session at the end of the week, the teacher stood at the front of the classroom and said, looking somewhat sheepish,

“Um, regarding the annual prefectural drama competition at the end of the year… I asked for volunteers last week, but it seems there are no takers. However, having zero participants is a problem for our school. So, could someone from this class step up?”

Last week, the teacher had explained the situation regarding this annual drama competition held in our prefecture.
Each school is required to send at least one group, and while there were always students who volunteered in previous years, this year there were none. That’s why the teacher says they want to recruit from our class.
I can understand wanting to recruit participants again. But there’s no reason it has to be our class. They could recruit from other first-year classes, or even from the upperclassmen.
Judging by the way he spoke, it was painfully obvious that he had rashly agreed to it.

Naturally, I have no intention of participating in something like that.
For starters, the idea of making it mandatory is ridiculous, and it’s pointless to force a school with no motivation to enter a competition.
Just as I was idly standing by, lost in these thoughts, pretending to be a bystander, that’s when it happened.

“Teacher! If that’s the case, I think Saekawa-san would be perfect!”

The girl in our class who was the first to start calling me “Class President” spoke up loudly.
I’d convinced myself the conversation had nothing to do with me, so it took me a while to realize she was referring to me.
By the time I was surprised and started panicking, the classroom was already buzzing with excitement.

“Huh? Me?”
“That’s right! It’s perfect for the class president!”
“Um… I’m not really sure about this…”
“Stop playing dumb already! If you’re the daughter of the famous “Asuka Saegawa,” you’ve got this in the bag!”

They’d finally said it. And right in front of the whole class.
Up until now, people had only whispered about it from a distance, but now they’d crossed the line.
Whether that was the trigger or not, it was as if a “taboo” had been lifted all on its own, and the entire class erupted at once.
“So it was true after all,” “I mean, you look just like her,” “That’s not what I pictured,”… Everyone said whatever they wanted, and even though I hadn’t said a word, it was starting to be treated as “fact.”

“I see, I see. If Saekawa’s doing it, this is going to be great!”
“W-wait… I’m not…”
“Well, I’d been informed by the school administration that you’re related to her, but I’m relieved to see everyone already knows!”

The teacher said this with a beaming smile.
I could have tried my hardest to protest and play dumb the whole time.
But the teacher’s single remark cut that off.
All I could do now was acknowledge that I was Asuka Saekawa’s daughter, and then refuse, even if it meant raising my voice with a bit of anger.
Or…

“…Alright. I’ve never acted before, so please don’t expect too much.”

I didn’t dare to shatter the bubbling atmosphere of the class and continue to feel suffocated.
As the choice that would cause the least damage to my ability to remain myself right now, I chose to join the play.
The whole class looked at me with satisfaction.
None of them meant any harm… In fact, if they had, I might have felt ready to fight back.
They just didn’t know any better.
That’s why I’m always in pain.

“Alright, then, Saekawa, start going to the drama club after school tomorrow. We have joint practice every year, so they’ll be able to teach you all sorts of things!”
“Yes…”
“It looks like you are the only volunteer left… but don’t worry. I’m sure the club members will welcome you.”

With that irresponsible remark from the teacher, homeroom ended, and I hurriedly packed up my things and went home.
I have absolutely no motivation. Saying that was just a way to escape the awkward atmosphere of the moment.
Should I wait for the right moment and just skip it, or maybe try to come down with a cold on the day of the event?
Any of those options seems like it would make me stand out in a bad way, so I’m hesitant.

“Why did things have to turn out like this…”

Back home, I lay on my bed and stared up at the ceiling.
It’s always like this.
Just because I’m the daughter of an actress… I’m just an ordinary high school student with no particular talent.
This is all my classmates’ fault, the teacher’s fault, and… my mother’s fault.

I took out my phone and scrolled through my limited contacts to find my mother’s name.
Maybe I should just let loose and give her a piece of my mind for once.
Tell her that it’s all her fault I’m in such a mess.
After thinking about that for a moment, I let go of my phone. It bounced once on the bed before falling to the hardwood floor.
There’s no point in doing something like that.
If I could do that, I would have done it ages ago.
I felt utterly ridiculous and laughed self-deprecatingly, then fell asleep without even taking off my school uniform.

I walk down the hallway, dragging my feet, feeling gloomy.
It’s after school. This floor is lined with empty classrooms, a place unfamiliar to first-year students.
I arrived at the classroom with a piece of paper hastily labeled “Drama Club” and cautiously opened the door.

“Helloo…”

I’d had a feeling this might be the case even before opening the door, but the room felt lifeless.
Or rather, there was no one there.
I’d expected to hear the stereotypical sounds of rehearsal, so I was taken aback.

“Did I enter the wrong classroom…?”

Just as I thought that and turned to leave…
The door of the cleaning supply locker in the corner of the room flew open with a loud clatter.

“Whoa!!”

A suspicious figure burst out from inside, letting out a startled cry.
I placed a hand over my chest to make sure my heart hadn’t leaped out, then looked around to see who this reckless prankster was.
From the wide-open collar of her shirt dangled a sloppy green bow tie. She was a third-year student.
Her shirt wasn’t tucked in, and her skirt was quite short.
To top it all off, she had a brightly bleached bob…

“Ah!”

Before I could finish my thought, the person who appeared to be a senior spread her arms wide above her head and spoke.

“You’re the girl from the other day~!”
“You were in the courtyard… Senpai.”
“I’m Rio Kunogi. Nice to meet ya~”
“I’m Mei Saekawa, a first-year. Nice to meet you too, Kunogi-senpai.”
“That’s way too long~. Just call me Rio-chan.”
“Rio… Senpai.”
“Rio-chan.”
“Rio-senpai”
“Ahah, so stiff~~~”

Saying that, Rio-senpai looked up at the sky and laughed.
She seemed to have quite a frank personality. Not the type you see very often.

“Well, let’s restart. Hello~ Welcome to the Drama Club~”
“I look forward to working with you… Um, aren’t there any other club members here?”
“Hmm~, no. I’m the only one here.”
“Eh, but doesn’t that mean the club doesn’t really exist…”
“Why not? One can do theater even if they’re alone, right? Sure, if we don’t get any new members next year, the club will be disbanded. I’m graduating, so all I can do is pray, I guess.”
“Huh…”

According to Rio-senpai, there were a few members until spring.
But it seems they weren’t particularly dedicated to begin with, and the other third-years, except for her, quit “to focus on entrance exams.” The second-years apparently followed suit and quit as well.

“I tried my best to recruit people~ But no one joined~”
“So that play was actually a recruitment drive…”

Hearing about the harsh reality the drama club faces, I shudder for a different reason.
In the worst-case scenario, I’d planned to just get a minor role like a tree and sit it out in the corner, but with just the two of us, even that wasn’t an option.
And from now on, both rehearsals and performances would be just me and this senior.
For someone like me, who’s always made a habit of just muddling through everything, this was a pretty tough situation.

“So, since that’s the case, I’m going to drill you hard, so brace yourself~”
“Okay…”
“Well then, let’s get right to it and try a “read-through,” shall we?”
“A “read-through” is… reading the script together, right…”
“Yep, yep, that’s it. We read the script together to check the situation, our positions, and all that. This time, let’s see what each other’s like~.”
“Ah, I’ve seen that somewhere before.”
“I knew it. Here’s the script. Since we’re here, let’s give it a shot~”

Saying that, Rio handed me the script, then dragged a chair to the center of the classroom and placed it opposite mine so we were facing each other.
Looking at the title, I realized it was a famous work that had even been made into an animated movie overseas. I’d seen it when I was a kid, too.
It was a relief to know the plot, at least a little.

“It’d be too much to do the whole thing, so let’s just do this scene. It has a lot of back-and-forth between the two of us~”

It started right with her line.
The moment she spoke, my heart skipped a beat.
It was as if she were a completely different person from the one who had been speaking so softly just a moment ago; her words resonated with conviction deep within me.
Just like when I saw her in the courtyard, I began to wonder if she might actually be someone extraordinary.
Drawn in by the passion with which she had started, I tried to act with emotion in my own way.
I just couldn’t act silly in front of someone who was taking this so seriously.
When I was a kid, I was asked a few times if I wanted to be a child actor, but of course, I turned them all down. So I don’t know how to act. Still, I gave it my all and put my heart into it.

“…Okay, that’s it for now~”
“Good job.”
“Yeah, yeah, good job~”
“Um… how was that? I’ve never acted before…”

I did my best, even though I didn’t really know what I was doing.
I thought I’d managed to make it look somewhat convincing.
I’d come here harboring a tiny glimmer of hope in the back of my mind, but Rio met me with a smile so bright it was almost infuriating and said,

“Oh my gosh~~~~ Mei-chan, you suck~~!!”
“What!?”

Just because she’s my senior doesn’t give her the right to say something so rude.
I’m an amateur. It’s only natural that I’m bad at this.

“Whoops, sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean you sucked. Actually, your acting was so moving I couldn’t believe it was your first time~”
“…Then, what was wrong with it?”
“Hmm~… Well… It’s how you used your energy, I guess. Do you know what a play-within-a-play is? It’s a slightly complicated way of presenting a story where the characters in the play are acting within the play… It just felt a bit like that.”
“…Could you be a little more specific?”
“Well, you see, sometimes actors deliberately overact to make it clear to the audience that it’s a play-within-a-play. It’s like saying, “I’m already acting, but I’m acting even more on top of that.” It felt similar to that. You’re actually good, but it felt like you were overdoing it, so I ended up saying you sucked. Sorry~”
“No… I understand what you mean.”

I replied like that, pretending to be calm, but deep down, I was actually surprised.
I knew she was strictly talking about my ability based on the script I’d read.
But those words… “I’m already acting, but I’m acting even more on top of that.” It felt like she’d seen right through how I’d lived my life.

“Well, I’m glad you came to this year’s competition. It doesn’t really matter who shows up, but I was convinced it’d be fun with you~~”
“Is that so…”
“I know you probably came reluctantly, but since you’re here, let’s give it our all~!”
“W-why would you say I came reluctantly… oh!”
“Haha, it’s totally obvious~! With that look on your face! Anyway, let’s work together, Mei!”
“…Yes, Rio-senpai.”

When I took the hand she held out, she squeezed it tightly. I followed suit and squeezed back just as firmly.
Just a moment ago, I was so angry at my classmates, my teacher, and even my mom – with her ridiculously obvious stage name – that I could have sworn I’d hate them all. Yet here I am, and I have to admit, I’m feeling pretty good about this.
But if I’m with Rio-senpai, I’m sure we’ll be able to do “something fun.”
Her words were so powerful that they reached straight into my heart, making me believe that.

Since I was a beginner, my days were spent focusing on the basics, like vocal exercises.
I didn’t realize it until I tried it, but shouting with a purpose feels surprisingly good.
The “Mei Saekawa” I’d been performing all this time would never do something like that, so it was a nostalgic feeling I hadn’t had since I was a child.

“No matter how many times I hear it, you really do have a beautiful voice~~, I’m so jealous~~!”
“Thank you. But you have a lovely voice too, don’t you?”
“No need for flattery~. I’m well aware my voice sucks ass~”
“Is that so? I was actually quite moved by your vocal technique, but I guess I just don’t have an eye for it.”
“Meiiiii~~! You’re such a great junior~~!!”

Rio is joking around, puffing out her chest and giving me a smug look, but I don’t think she’s actually feeling that flattered.
She’s my senior, after all. She’s probably hit all kinds of walls long before I even knew about them, and overcome them every single time.
Seeing her almost every day, I’d started to understand her well enough to think about things like that.

“Let’s take~ a break~. It’s hot, drink some water~”
“Okay.”

I took my water bottle out of my bag and drank as she told me.
Rio watched me with a big smile, then stuck her head out the open window and spoke.

“Look at those boys on the field~. It’s right after lunch, yet they’re moving around like that.”
“I’m worried they might get heatstroke.”
“Right? Man, it’s hot every day~”
“It’s full-on summer now. Summer vacation is coming up soon, too.”
“Oh, by the way, I’m thinking of practicing hard during summer vacation… is that okay with you?”
“Sure. I don’t really have anything else to do besides homework and studying on my own.”
“Ooh, I’m getting fired up~~! You’re starting to look like a real drama club member~!”
“Hehe, I’m not actually a member, though.”

My first summer vacation since starting high school.
I didn’t have anything to do, but I actually welcomed that.
It was a somewhat negative reason; I didn’t have to worry about anything extra every day.
So I never even imagined a future where I’d spend my summer vacation with someone else.
Still, I felt a little guilty about dragging Rio along, especially since I still couldn’t bring myself to take acting seriously.
As we stood in the schoolyard, cooling off in the gentle breeze and silently watching the boys playing basketball, the pre-lunch bell suddenly rang.

“Oh, lunch break’s over, huh~”
“I can’t believe it’s already this late… Sorry, I have to hurry back to class.”
“…Why don’t we just call it a day?”
“Huh?”
“Let’s go outside and practice our voices now! It’s so stuffy in these cramped classrooms~!”
“Um, aren’t we supposed to have afternoon classes now?”
“It’s fine for now~~!!”

Grabbing my arm, Rio suddenly started running.
We dashed down the hallway, down the stairs, and to the shoe lockers. Before we knew it, we had reached the bicycle parking lot in front of the school gate, which had fallen silent.
Looking back, I could see a classroom through one of the school building’s windows. Students were lined up by the window, facing the teacher’s desk, so I knew class had already started.
I wonder what’s going on in my class right now.
Has no one noticed I’m missing, or has it become a bit of a problem?

I could have easily shaken off Rio’s hand. But the fact that I didn’t was “my own choice.”
Everyone in my class knows I’m practicing with the drama club. So every time I return from lunch break, they all look at me with the same expression. “You’re working hard again today,” they say, with innocent eyes and smiles.
I guess… I hated that moment.

“What are you doing?! Class has already started!”

A teacher I didn’t recognize called out to me from the shoe rack.
This is bad. I’ve been caught.
While I stood frozen in place, panicking, Rio kicked the bike stand as hard as she could and shouted.

“Get on! Hurry!!”

Her words snapped me back to reality, and I hurriedly jumped onto the back of the bike she was straddling.
Ignoring the teacher’s calls to stop coming from behind, Rio pedaled furiously, leaving the school far behind.
The steel cargo rack I was sitting on felt slightly warm, perhaps from the sun.
But the heat radiating from her waist as she pedaled was even hotter.

“Hah… hehehe… ahahahahaha!!”
“Hehe… ahahaha…!”

For some reason, it just welled up inside us, and we couldn’t hold it in. We both burst out laughing.
Today was the first time I’d ever skipped school.
I’d done it again – something “Mei Saekawa” would never do.
The me from that day, who tried to protect herself by putting on a show.
Rio was breaking down, one by one, the layers upon layers of emotional walls I’d been building up ever since that day.
I remembered that feeling.

Summer vacation was already more than halfway over.
It seemed Rio had always found the classroom cramped, not just that day. So during the break, we spent a lot of time practicing outdoors, in places like parks and along the riverbank.
Even though we chose spots in the shade, it was still hot, and people passed by.
But after about a week, I got used to both the heat and the stares, and now I’m even able to talk with Rio about the performance.

“Don’t ya think that etude you did before was cool~? You brought out a side of the character I haven’t seen before.”
“Thank you. That was something I’d been struggling with, so I’m really happy.”
“At first, you were just a carbon copy of “Mei”~ But you’ve matured.”
“It’s just that you’ve changed so much, Rio-san…”

Etudes. Improvised scenes based solely on a predetermined setting.
Since everything outside the setting is improvised, it’s a great way to hone your ad-libbing skills and expressiveness… at least, supposedly.
Unlike me, who still tends to slip back into being “Mei Saekawa” exactly as I am, Rio can instantly transform into a character completely different from herself, in age, gender, era, everything.
Every time she does that, I’m genuinely impressed from the bottom of my heart.

“But Mei, you actually kind of like etudes, don’t ya? You seem to enjoy them.”
“I suppose… so. I might not dislike them.”

The “acting while wearing a mask” that Rio pointed out to me before. I still haven’t managed to overcome that.
But as I keep playing someone different from myself over and over, I feel like I’m starting to shed it little by little.
Honestly, it’s fun to act when there’s a clear purpose, like a play.
Plus, in that split second when I try to become someone else, that moment when I flip the switch… I feel like I can remember the “real me” that I’d forgotten.

“Oh, look, look! Yukatas~“

Rio pointed up the embankment.
Two girls, about our age, were walking by wearing yukatas with goldfish and morning glory patterns.

“Speaking of which, there’s a festival starting later today.”
“For real~!? I forgot about that~!”

As we were talking, the faint sound of drums drifted in from the distance.
Before we knew it, it was already evening.

“You can hear them, right?”
“Woah~ I’m so hyped~! It really feels like summer~!”
“Should we go to the festival?”
“Huh, together!? Is that okay~!?”
“You were the one who brought it up in the first place, anyway.”
“You really get it, don’t you!!”
“Hehe. But I’m all sweaty, so I’d at least like to change…”

We didn’t get permission to go home for a break, so we headed straight to the festival grounds.
Even though it was a festival in the next town over, it seemed to be relatively large for this area, and I could spot a few of my classmates here and there.
Rio and I didn’t even glance at the games, like the shooting gallery or the lottery that looked like it would never let you win. Instead, we stocked up on yakisoba, takoyaki, and shaved ice, completely driven by our hunger.
We sat side by side on a bench along the river near the venue, struggling with the hot takoyaki as we nibbled away at it.
The sound of the drums resonating in my stomach felt pleasant.
There used to be a festival near the apartment I lived in in Tokyo until last year. But with the soundproof windows, I don’t remember ever hearing those sounds.
This is the first time in my life I’ve enjoyed a festival using all five senses like this.

“Alright! Let’s get some candy apples next~!”
“Are you still going to eat? You’ll ruin your stomach.”
“Noooo probleeeem~! We’ve been eating dinner, it’s time for the dessert!”

Even though I knew I was definitely overeating, I reluctantly walked back with Rio to the main street lined with food stalls.
Just a moment ago, there were long lines everywhere, but I was relieved to see they’d shortened. Maybe everyone had already eaten their fill.
When I joined the line behind a few other customers waiting for the candy-coated apple stall I’d been eyeing, a faint conversation drifting from somewhere caught my ear.
I turned to look and saw three girls, dressed in flashy outfits and looking about high school age, standing a short distance away.
They were looking in my direction, exchanging glances and whispering to each other.
I knew exactly what they were up to. After all, I’m used to this.
Their mouths twisted into amused grins, their eyes appraising me, their voices laughing as they made up stories.
But something felt off. They seemed to be looking at me, yet their gazes never quite met mine.
So who exactly were they looking at? Just as I was wondering that, Rio standing behind me tugged at the hem of my shirt.

“Ah~… sorry. That’s probably about me.”

After leaving the festival grounds, we walked with our heads slightly bowed, as if checking the ground on the dimly lit night street.
Rio was nibbling on a candy apple with her usual expression, but soon she made a face that clearly said she was fed up and started talking.

“Sorry for showing you something weird like that~”
“It’s okay…”
“Those gals are from my grade. They’re a pretty flashy group, but they really hate me~.”
“Oh, really? That’s a bit surprising.”
“Well, I mean, I have this kind of hair, and I don’t follow the school rules… and, you know… I’m not good with words, so I end up saying things the wrong way, right?”
“Well… that might be true.”
“So I end up annoying them a lot… It’s not just them~ I’m kind of an outcast at school. Actually, the fact that I’m the only one in the drama club might have something to do with it, too~”

To me, Rio is a kind person who, while free-spirited, really knows how to take the lead.
So I never imagined her like that, but now that she mentioned it, I could see how that kind of situation might happen.

“At first, they kept asking me to join them~ But I turned them down because I thought they weren’t into it~ Ever since then, they’ve been like that the whole time. It’s hilarious, isn’t it?”
“Hahaha. You’re partly to blame for that.”
“I can’t give a shit~ I’m not bothered by it one bit~… but I just didn’t want to make you feel bad.”
“It’s totally fine. I’m… well, I’m used to it.”

Even though she said “I’m,” she’s completely different from me.
I just put on the mask of “Mei Saekawa” and smiled my way through it, even though I hated being stared at with those curious looks.
But Rio said, “I don’t like it.” I’m sure she hasn’t just been saying that to those people; she’s probably always spoken up whenever something bothered her.
I didn’t understand that. I didn’t even know that was an option.
It was as if I’d found an unfamiliar turn on a road I’d walked dozens of times, and I was completely taken aback.

“…Rio-san, aren’t you afraid? To not hide what you think, to be your true self… even if people around you end up hating you?”

Unable to contain my surprise and curiosity, I blurted out the question.
After all, the path she had chosen was the way of life I feared most.
Yet she answered as calmly as if I’d asked something obvious.

“I’m not scared at all~! If anything, if I keep putting up with things I hate, I’ll end up hating myself! That’s what I’m really scared of~!”

I don’t want to live up to expectations. But I can’t say I hate it either.
I endure, I run away.
I keep playing the role of “Mei Saekawa” that I created that way.
Am I… still able to like myself?

“Oh, right. My place is down this way~. I guess we’ll part ways here today~!”
“Ah, okay.”
“Sorry this is half-eaten, but if you’d like, have some~! See ya~!”

Without waiting for my reply, Rio shoved the apple candy into my hands and turned down a side street, waving as she walked away.
For some reason, I found myself waving back at her until she was out of sight.
From afar, the sound of the drums still reached me, as if in sync with the beating of my heart.
Suddenly remembering, I took a bite of the apple candy she’d given me.

“It’s sour…”

The apple must not have been very ripe.
Rather than the sweetness of the candy, only its sourness clung to my tongue.

It was late autumn, and I was beginning to actually miss the sweltering heat that had previously driven me to the brink of exhaustion.
I’ve kept practicing ever since, and now I’m doing more than just basic drills. I’m also doing practical exercises using various performances.
The more I learn, the more I realize the appeal of acting.
Good guys, bad guys, heroines, love rivals. I’ve been able to fully embody whatever role I’m asked to play.
It felt incredibly restrictive… and yet, it felt free.
I wanted to keep repeating this kind of practice forever.
But now, I have to move on to the next step.
What will the actual performance be? There are so many decisions to make.
One day, just as I was reaching that point, Rio looked at me with a serious expression and suddenly said this:

“About the performance, I won’t be appearing with you. Mei, you’ll be the only one on stage.”
“…Huh? Why? I thought I was supposed to perform with you, Rio-san…”
“I’m sorry. Actually, I’d decided this from the very beginning. That’s why I’ve been teaching you at a pretty fast pace. So you’d be able to hold your own on stage even by yourself.”
“…Could you tell me why?”

During winter break, when the competition takes place, auditions are reportedly being held at several theater companies in Tokyo.
Rio had originally planned to use her entire break to attend them, but she apparently hadn’t expected me to be the only one volunteering to participate in the competition.
So, just in case, she was prepared to take responsibility, give up on the auditions, and perform alone if necessary.
But according to her, “I’ve grown” more than she ever imagined.
“With this, I can send you off to the actual performance with confidence. But if you think it’s too much, you can turn it down.” That’s what she said.
In response to that question, I answered “I’ll do it” with a surprising ease, even to myself.
Rio doesn’t lie. If someone like that tells me I’ve grown enough for them to send me off with confidence, I want to live up to that.
I, who used to be so fed up with people’s expectations, actually felt that I wanted to respond from the bottom of my heart.
My mind was made up. I knew what I had to do.
And yet…

“We really need to make a decision soon… about the play for the performance…”

We were gathered around a table in our usual drama club room, holding a meeting.
Even though two weeks had passed since then, we were still racking our brains, unable to decide what play to perform.
There isn’t much time left until the performance. Although we’ve been practicing more intensively than ever, it’s definitely time to start rehearsing for the actual show.

Rio is fiddling with the loose sleeves of her oversized cardigan, looking deep in thought with a serious expression.
As a first-year in the drama club, I naturally don’t know much. Since I’m not very familiar with plays in general, I have no choice but to rely on her.

“Hmm… hmm…”
“Sorry for making you think about this. I looked into it myself, but I still don’t really get it.”
“It’s okay~! It’s partly my fault we’re in this situation anyway~! I have a few ideas, but none of them quite feel right~”

The meeting is going nowhere.
There’s no point in the two of us just groaning over this.
Looking for a change of pace, I tried to strike up a casual conversation.

“You won’t be able to come see the actual performance, will you, Rio-san?”
“Ah… yeah, sorry about that. I hear the results come out right away, but depending on the content, I wanna use my whole winter break to go to auditions until I get accepted…”
“It’s okay. Good luck. But it’s a shame you won’t be able to see my stage debut live.”
“Ugh! You’ve really got a way with words now~! It is a bummer, though~!”

I know this isn’t the time for that, but I enjoy these moments chatting about trivial things with Rio.
Riding this wave, I decided to take this opportunity to ask her more about herself.
It’s rare for her to talk about herself.
Even that summer day, she only told me because she felt he had to, out of consideration for me.
So I decided to ask a slightly deeper question.

“Have you always wanted to be an actor, Rio-san?”
“Yeah, ever since I was little. I had someone I looked up to, you see~”
“Oh, really? Is it someone I know?”

I asked casually.
I’m not exactly an expert on celebrities, but I wanted to know who she looked up to.
But the name that came out of her mouth was someone I knew better than anyone else.

“…”Asuka Saegawa.” I think that’s your mom, right?”

I couldn’t reply right away; I froze in place.
So, she knew after all.
School is such a small world. Of course, word would have reached her ears.
But she’d never mentioned it to me before.

“…So you knew.”
“Haha. Right after the entrance ceremony, rumors started popping up~”
“Why didn’t you ever bring it up before?”
“Hmm~ it’s not like it has anything to do with us, right?”
“Eh…?”
“Asuka Saegawa is Asuka Saegawa, and Mei is Mei. Even though you’re mother and daughter, you just have a similar vibe and don’t look alike at all. So you’re completely different people. It’s got nothing to do with me!”
“…Heh.”

I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at what she said.
I think I finally understood why I’d come to like her.
She had been trying to talk to “me” all along.
Not the “Mei Saekawa” I perform, but the real me behind the mask.
She’d been trying to talk to me all along, trying to find me all along.
The moment I realized that, I felt a strange illusion that my body had suddenly become lighter.
The wall I’d built up until now. Rio had smashed down that very last brick.

“…I don’t really know what my mom is like at all. I’ve hardly ever seen her act, either. Is she really someone people look up to that much?”
“Of course it is~! Her expressiveness, the way she sets the mood, she’s literally on a god-level! Um, if I’m this big, then Saekawa-san is thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis big!”

She’s passionately gesturing, spreading her arms wide to illustrate the difference between us.
But Rio only knows my mother from the stage and the screen.

“She’s not that amazing. I don’t even remember her doing anything motherly. So… I don’t really like her.”
“I see… You’ve had a pretty tough life, haven’t ya… I bet you two fought a lot…”
“Ah, no… it’s not like we fought… we just didn’t really talk…”
“What!? I couldn’t stand that! I’d definitely snap at her, and yell at her that she didn’t think about you more!!”
“Eh… would you really do that…?”
“Yeah. I mean, even though you’re mother and daughter, you’re still strangers. If you don’t talk to her, she won’t get it!”

If you don’t talk to her, she won’t get it. Those words squeezed my heart.
Maybe I was afraid of getting hurt, so I covered my ears, ran away, and pretended to give up.
Suddenly, I remembered something from my childhood.
On the rare occasions when my mother was home, I’d stand at the front door seeing her off as she headed to work. Every single time, she would always pat me on the head.
I wonder what Asuka Saekawa was thinking back then.

“…Thank you, Senpai.”
“Huh? W-what for? Did I do something to deserve thanks?”
“Yes, there was. Please just pretend there was.”
“Huh~? Well, if you say so, I guess that’s fine~… but more importantly! What are we going to do about the play~?!”
“Ah, in that case…”

While talking with Rio, I’d actually come up with an idea.
I want to become the kind of person who can give it my all on stage, just like she did that day, even if I’m all alone.
No, I’m sure I will.
As the current me… The real me inside me.

“That play you were doing in the courtyard… could you teach me that…”

That night…
I tapped through my phone’s contacts and dialed the number.
I figured she wouldn’t answer anyway, so I was surprised when the ringtone cut off after just two rings.

“Oh, hello. Mom.”
“…You finally called. You haven’t been in touch for nearly a year.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, that’s not it… I’m the one who should be apologizing. I haven’t been able to act like a proper parent.”
“…”

As I sat there silent, unable to agree or disagree, she told me what I’d wanted to hear.
It was as if she could see right through my thoughts.

“You see, I’ve been acting since I was a child, and along the way, I lost sight of who I really am… the person who isn’t playing a role. I didn’t know what kind of person I was… or even how to interact with you. It didn’t matter what role I was playing; I just needed to be “your mother”… I’m sorry.”
“…So that’s how it was. I understand how you feel. Thank you for telling me.”

Oh. We were the same.
My mother and I are exactly alike.
So much so that it almost makes me laugh.

“Actually, I’m going to be in a play soon. It’s for a prefectural competition.”
“You? Really? Oh dear, what shall I do? I’ll have to clear my schedule…”
“You don’t have to come. But when the time comes… I want you to see my performance.”

I’m standing backstage at the largest public cultural hall in the prefecture.
The clear voices of students from other schools performing on stage carry all the way out here, and I’m overwhelmed by their high level of skill.
In terms of numbers or technique, I can’t compete in the slightest. Winning a prize would be impossible even if a miracle happened. But I don’t care about any of that.

On the first day of winter break, I saw Rio off at the platform as she boarded the bullet train bound for Tokyo.
She was acting so normal it made me anxious, and I found myself resenting her for it. I wrapped her scarf tightly around her face until it was hidden, and for some reason, she seemed happy about it. That memory has stayed with me.
I wonder if she’s auditioning right now. I’m sure she’ll be fine.

The previous act has ended, and now it’s my turn to take the stage.
The only prop I’m using is a single chair. The scene change goes smoothly.
Although my view is blocked by the curtain in front of me, the sound of breathing in the silence makes me aware that there’s a large audience here.
Standing on such a big stage, being bathed in the spotlight, and performing in front of an audience… everything is a first for me.
Yet, for some reason, my heart is infinitely calm; I’m so composed that I wonder if I’m not nervous enough.
There’s a famous story about my mother: apparently, she displayed an extraordinary boldness right from her very first performance.
In that regard, it might indeed be in my “blood.”

“Next up is a play by a student from Chusumi High School. The title is “Confession.””

As soon as the announcement finished, the curtain slowly rose to the sound of a buzzer.
I realized I could see the audience from the stage much more clearly than I had expected.
Countless pairs of eyes were fixed on me.
My heart skipped a beat for a moment, but I quickly regained my composure.
I just have to do my part.

“Oh, oh, please listen. Hear the confession of this sinner who has committed a mistake…”

I spoke as a man confessing his sins to a priest separated by a single wall.
The town’s most honest and sincere man was a good-natured soul who accepted everything with a smile, no matter what was done to him.
But due to a minor misunderstanding, he is framed for stealing bread and ends up being persecuted by everyone in town.
That is how the story begins.
Although I am playing the same character, it is different from Rio’s portrayal.
The voice, the tempo, the gestures, the breathing… everything is unique to me. This is my own “confessing man,” played by me and mine alone.

“I regret having done such a foolish thing… but it was something I had no choice but to do in order to survive…”

The play proceeds without a hitch.
It isn’t a long piece to begin with, and though the run is short, I’ve rehearsed it over and over again.
It should have ended safely just like this.

“Even so… I must accept this heavy punishment, mustn’t I… I feel as if I’ve been cast into the darkness…”

As if in response to my line, the lights suddenly went out, plunging the stage into total darkness.
It wasn’t part of the direction. The plan was to use only a single spotlight throughout the entire performance; there wasn’t even supposed to be a lighting change.
The only possibilities were a communication error or a technical one.
How was I supposed to handle a situation like this? I deeply regretted not having learned from Rio.
After just a few seconds that felt like an eternity, the lights came back on, illuminating me once more, suggesting it wasn’t a major problem after all.
It’s okay, I can handle this.
Just as I thought that and took a breath…

The script I’d drilled into my head. Every single word had vanished from its pages.
No matter how frantically I flipped through it, not a single line of dialogue was written there.
Ironically, I’d actually learned the term for this exact situation.
I had completely “skipped” my lines.

I began to hear a faint murmur rising from the audience.
The moment I heard it, my legs started shaking as if my earlier composure had been a lie.
The sweat that had been slowly forming under the heat of the lights dried up before my eyes.
This can’t go on. The play will fall apart.
The more I panicked, thinking I had to do something, the more my body refused to move.

That was when it happened.
At the end of the aisle stretching straight from the stage, dividing the audience in two, I saw a door open.
Hunching over as if embarrassed to enter mid-performance, someone stepped into the auditorium, which was now filled with this unpleasant murmur.

It was Rio.

My well-known senior, who knew me better than anyone else in the room.
Perhaps because she was in a hurry, her breathing was slightly ragged.
She’d said she’d spend the entire winter break auditioning nonstop, so I never expected her to come back this soon. She must have been accepted into her top-choice theater company.
Perhaps noticing the commotion in the hall, Rio didn’t head for her seat but stood in front of the door, looking at me.
Then, placing a hand over their heart, she gestured. “Take a deep breath,” she said.
Following her lead, I took a deep breath and let it out. In that instant, my mind cleared as if I’d just woken from a deep sleep.

That’s right, I mustn’t stop. I have to keep acting.
My lines were still a blur, as usual. But I knew how far we’d gotten in the play.
If I forgot the script, I could just make it up.
It was an etude I’d practiced countless times with Rio.

“…No… Something’s wrong. Why must I suffer so much…”

The play ends with the man setting the town on fire. But since I can’t remember the lines leading up to that point, I have no choice but to improvise the rest of the scene.
What if the man were Rio?
She might have spoken her mind until the whole town understood her. Over and over, until the message got through.
Then what about me?
Would I just accept an unfounded accusation without a word, sobbing and repenting?
Would I convince myself it was all someone else’s fault and set the town on fire?
Absolutely not.
If it were me… I’d throw caution to the wind, refuse to hide my anger, and keep insisting on my innocence.
I’d argue back, I’d fight back, and if necessary, I might even use harsh words.
If that still didn’t work, I’d just lie down right there and throw a tantrum.
I’d pound the floor, wail and scream, and yell that I refuse it, like a child.
Yes, I remember now.
That’s the real me.
A spoiled, self-centered girl who sulks when things don’t go her way. A far cry from a model student.
That’s the real “Mei Saekawa.”

“I’m done pretending to be honest. I don’t need to keep lying to myself just to be liked by others. Ah… I can finally be myself again…”

The story didn’t flow well; it was disjointed, and there was no message to speak of. The curtain fell on my disastrous debut performance.
Naturally, there was no way I’d win any awards, and the competition ended without incident.
No classmates bothered to come see me just because I was an actress’s daughter during winter break, and by the time the new semester started, everyone had completely forgotten that I’d even done a play.

Before long, Rio graduated.
She said she was moving to Tokyo to work part-time while training with the theater company she’d been accepted into, aiming for a leading role.
Since Tokyo was my hometown anyway, we promised to meet again when I returned after graduation.
I remember when I saw her off. I cried so hard this time that I almost made her back away, and I kept comforting her as if I were the senior now.
I’m glad I didn’t run away.
I’m glad I wasn’t afraid of hurting others.
I’m glad I didn’t stay the person I hated.
She taught me so many important things.
I’m not trying to force my views on anyone, but if she’s ever struggling, I want to be the one to help her this time.

By the time the cherry blossoms had bloomed and then fallen completely…
I had stopped being a model student.
I, who used to be nicknamed Class President, stopped using honorifics and stopped putting on a friendly face for everyone; instead, I started expressing my opinions clearly.
People seemed surprised by the change from my old self, and now I’m completely out of place in the class. Maybe I’m even giving Rio a run for her money.
But that doesn’t mean I’m getting down about it. I’m just going to keep being the person I like.

Today, I was back in the drama club room where I used to spend every day with Rio.
I don’t know if I managed to recruit anyone properly, but I think I gave it my all with the performance I could manage right now.
So surely, just like I was captivated back then, I must have managed to touch someone’s heart. I believe that.

It takes courage to take the plunge, but waiting around is surprisingly scary too.
What if I end up staying all alone like this…
I wonder if Rio ever felt this way too.
She seems like she’s not afraid of anything, but she’s actually more sensitive than anyone else. Maybe she was even more nervous than I am right now.
Thinking that made me feel inexplicably amused, and I decided I’d tease her about it the next time we met.

While I was thinking about that, the classroom door creaked open.
The face that appeared wasn’t as composed as mine had been back then.
This time, I have to be the one to speak up.
With such a warm welcome that it would blow away any feelings of anxiety.

“Hello. Welcome to the drama club.”