The Cultural Festival 3
“Hey Ichinose——what are you doing? Let’s go.”
Wakui called out as she returned, worried about Sōma who had not yet caught up while reflecting alone.
“Wakui, thank you.”
“What are you talking about all of a sudden? It’s embarrassing.”
Suddenly being thanked, the girl with the pudding hair was surprised.
“I don’t remember doing anything that deserves thanks. So, lift your head up.”
“It’s about what you said earlier, that ‘just one variety is boring’. I thought one variety was enough because that’s all the festival stalls had. But there’s no rule that says we must only have one type.”
Sōma realized his thinking was insufficient, or rather, he had become complacent, thinking that imitating his predecessors was enough.
This mindset had become ingrained over the years, and it seemed hard to shake off.
In that sense, the brainstorming with Wakui and the other classmates was incredibly valuable.
“It was a good learning experience. Thank you.”
“Ah… so that’s what you’re talking about.”
As Sōma bowed his head again, Wakui looked troubled.
“I didn’t say that because I was thinking about making the mock shop better. That was just, well… I was thinking that if we increased the variations, the work time would also increase, or something like that…”
She mumbled, her words unclear.
“Huh? hat does that mean? Wakui, are you a workaholic even though you’re a high school student?”
“It’s nothing! Come on, let’s go!”
As he looked at her with a puzzled face, she blushed for some reason and began pushing Sōma’s back.
“Hey, don’t push. I can walk by myself.”
“Come on, hurry up!”
Despite her small stature, Wakui’s pushing was surprisingly strong, as if she wouldn’t allow him to walk any other path.
This chapter is updat𝙚d by freeweɓnovel.cøm.
***
The next day dawned, and it was the day of the cultural festival.
The school was buzzing with noise everywhere, and from classrooms where preparations were still incomplete, the sounds of hustle and bustle could be heard.
In the hallways, students in various costumes, from frilly maid outfits to sheet ghosts to samurai with topknots, walked around.
It was filled with an energy that was unthinkable on a weekday.
And the same was true for Class 1-4.
“Wow, this is amazing.”
Upon arriving at school, Sōma let out a gasp of admiration as soon as he entered the classroom.
The preparations for the mock shop were complete.
Along the windows, desks were lined up with hot plates, cooking utensils, paper plates, and cups ready for use.
This area was designated for Sōma and his team, who were in charge of grilling.
In the center towards the corridor side, tables covered with white tablecloths were arranged for customers to enjoy freshly baked baby castella.
The setup was sufficient for a mock shop, but the classroom was decorated to the hilt to evoke the atmosphere of a Japanese festival.
Colorful lanterns hung from the ceiling, and decorations such as pinwheels, streamers, masks, and fans with the character for “festival” (『祭, Matsuri』) filled the walls.
From a small speaker in the corner of the room, festival music, which they had heard at the recent Ebisu festival, was already playing on loop.
The ambiance of a festival was perfectly recreated.
Since Sōma had spent the entire previous day in the cooking practice room, this was his first time seeing the classroom transformed for the mock shop. He was impressed with how much had been prepared.
As he looked around the classroom, his eyes landed on the blackboard.
On the blackboard, the name of the first-year class four’s mock shop, “Matsuri-ya,” was boldly lettered in a brushstroke style.
But this was…
“That’s lame.”
He couldn’t help but voice it out.
It was too simple, almost to a fault.
Hadn’t anyone thought of something a bit more creative?
He had an inkling of who might be responsible for such a zero-sense naming, and sure enough, when he asked, it turned out to be Shōhei’s doing.
“Yeah, the name I came up with was chosen,” Shōhei said proudly.
“That’s way too lame. Couldn’t you have thought of something better?”
“You don’t get it. Clarity is important. Look, in the limited space of the cultural festival pamphlet, you can only write the shop name and what you’re selling.”
Shōhei explained while tapping the folded pamphlet in his hand.
“That’s why the shop name should instantly convey the concept. ‘Matsuri-ya,’ ‘Baby Castella,’——just by seeing these two words, anyone can understand what kind of shop ours is, right?”
“Well, that’s true,” Sōma conceded.
Although he couldn’t shake off the lameness of the name, it was clear that Shōhei had put considerable thought into making the mock shop exciting in his own way.
“It was worth the effort to pitch it to Saito-san.”
At that moment, Sōma realized that Miki and Chika were nowhere to be seen.
“By the way, where are those two? Or rather, it seems like we’re short on people. Is everyone late?”
“What are you talking about? Everyone’s been here for a while. You’re probably the last one, Sōma. The girls in charge of serving have already gone to change.”
Shōhei said with a disapproving look.
Just then, from the direction of the door, a chorus of excited squeals erupted.
“Chika, you’re so cute!”
“It suits you perfectly!”
“You look like a model!”
Drawn by the cheers, Sōma looked towards the door to see Chika and the other girls who had changed into yukata, surrounded by the girls who hadn’t yet changed.
Since the theme of the mock shop was “festival,” those who had yukatas had decided to change into them for serving customers.
Not many boys had yukata, but about eighty percent of the girls who liked fashion and cute things had declared they would bring their own.
The girls, each dressed in their own colorful yukata, looked fresh and gave off a different impression from their usual uniformed selves.
Among them, the “Angel of Peace” stood out as exceptionally cute and eye-catching.
She was wearing a wisteria-colored yukata adorned with snow-white and dew-grass-colored butterflies, cinched with an azalea-colored obi, and her brown hair was tied into a ponytail with a crimson ribbon.
The vibrant yukata, with its red-toned obi and ribbon, suited her perfectly.