117 After the Graduation Ceremony with Sendai-san - Story About Buying My Classmate Once A Week

After the Graduation Ceremony with Sendai-san Chapter 117 The morning of the graduation ceremony came without any special events unfolding, as I knew it would. I half-expected that there might be a surprise waiting for me—like maybe she'd be lying in wait. Such thoughts crossed my mind, but when I stepped out of my apartment, there was no sight of Sendai-san waiting for me. There had been times in the past when she'd shown up at my doorstep, so I just thought today might be another one of those days. Perhaps because I ignored the numerous messages she sent, she’s decided I’m no longer worth her time. I wasn’t expecting anything, nor would her presence have been entirely welcome. I walked along the path that had become so familiar to me. Once I reached the school, today and the return home would be my last time walking this route in my uniform. The thought brought a tinge of sadness. March mornings were unusually warm as I made my way toward the school. The weather was good, and I should've felt invigorated, but instead my steps were heavy. The uniform felt like a weight, slowing my pace. Inevitably, it led me to walk more leisurely than usual. Even if I slow down, the school won't disappear, nor will the graduation ceremony. Nor will the promises with Sendai-san vanish into thin air. Dragging my feet in a lethargic manner, I entered the school and climbed the stairs. While walking through the hallway, Sendai-san emerged from the noisy neighboring classroom. On this graduation morning, she had her blouse buttoned all the way up, with her tie neatly fastened. It was a sight I could never see again after today, and though I wasn’t consciously trying to commit it to memory, I found my gaze fixed on her. I wished to call out to her, though I knew I couldn’t. It didn’t matter who saw us. I had once told Sendai-san that on the day we watched a movie together, but promises must be kept. Had both Sendai-san and I honored our promises up until today, perhaps I wouldn’t be feeling so melancholic now. I tried to avert my eyes from Sendai-san. Before I could, though, she noticed me. Her mouth opened, as if she wanted to say something, but before any words reached me, Ibaraki-san arrived out of nowhere and whisked her away into their classroom. Not even a sigh escaped my lips. The answer was already determined, yet seeing Sendai-san brought hesitation. Ever since my exams ended, I had been pondering what to do after the graduation ceremony. In truth, the very act of thinking about it was laughable. The conclusion was already clear, and I’d communicated it to Sendai-san. Promises are meant to be honored, after all. Despite such thoughts, I wavered. I walked down the corridor where Sendai-san had vanished and entered my classroom. Dropping my bag onto my desk, I headed toward Maika’s. Ami was left alone before the graduation ceremony began, overwhelmed by the somber atmosphere and crying. Maika focused her efforts on comforting her. My legs and uniform still felt heavy. Moving felt like a chore. I somehow managed to move my lips to greet them. "Good morning," I said as I looked at Ami, adding, "Are you okay?" "Shi-ori!" Ami, her nose red, called my name in a voice that sounded as if the world was ending and clung to me. "I should’ve chosen the same college as you two. Don’t leave me behind!" "It’s not like we won’t see each other again. You’re exaggerating." "But..." Ami continued to sob, her voice nasally. I gently patted her shoulder and reassured her, saying we could always meet up, suggesting we hang out during summer break. The whole time, my mind was filled with thoughts of Sendai-san, making me feel like a heartless person. But ever since the exams were over, I couldn’t stop myself from constantly thinking about her, and I wanted to change that. "Ami, you should stop crying soon, or your face will look terrible," Maika said, tapping Ami’s shoulder. Ami, who had been crying like a child, pulled away from me, pressing a handkerchief to her eyes as she mumbled, "I know." I didn’t know how long she had been crying, but Ami’s eyes were indeed swelling, making it look bad for the upcoming graduation ceremony. "Shiori, too," Maika said, offering a pack of tissues. "I’m not crying." "You’re not, but you look like you might." "It’s true." Ami, looking at me, laughed through her tears. I was taken aback. I hadn’t cried yet. I returned the tissues to Maika and rubbed my eyes. There’s nothing so sad today that it should bring me to tears. Though I’m going to a different university than Ami, it’s not like we won’t meet again. And Maika will still be with me. —The only person I will stop meeting is Sendai-san. After today, our relationship would end, and we wouldn’t meet again. That’s why, before graduation day arrived, I thought about making a few more memories. While I didn’t want to turn my time with Sendai-san into marks on a calendar, if the end was near, a few more memories might not hurt. Giving her chocolates on Valentine’s Day, watching a movie together—it wasn’t anything significant. Even if we did something different from usual, it would be forgotten soon. Memories aren’t permanent. They can fade and even disappear. Even things from just a year ago can be forgotten. I didn’t know how long it would take for my memories of my high school days to fade, but if I didn’t dwell on them, they should disappear without much time. Still, I regretted my earlier thought that a few more memories wouldn’t hurt. The taste of the Valentine’s chocolates. The kiss we shared on the day we watched a movie together. I’ve recalled them countless times, and instead of fading, those memories have only grown stronger. Things aren’t going well. The memories I thought would be insignificant weigh heavier than I expected. "Shiori." Maika’s voice pulled me back to reality. "You’re crying." Maika, holding a tissue, reached out to wipe my cheek. "…I’ll do it myself." I tried to wipe my cheeks with my hand and looked at Maika. There was no teasing in her eyes. I took a tissue from the pack I returned earlier. "Um, Maika. Thanks." "The graduation ceremony is starting soon." Maika spoke softly. "Yeah," Ami replied with a nasal voice, echoing Maika. A contemplative mood threatened to settle in until Maika clapped her hands with a crisp sound. "That’s right. During spring break, the three of us should go somewhere!" "Oh, I’m down!" Ami’s bright voice filled the space. Once we sorted out the date, time, and place together, the teacher came to the classroom, and before we knew it, the graduation ceremony was underway. The principal and esteemed guests from outside spoke. The speeches weren’t too different from those of last year, and while the words didn’t move me to tears or touch me deeply, the atmosphere of the graduation—grandiose yet somehow melancholy—loosened my tear ducts. I rubbed my eyes, searching for Sendai-san. But the sea of identical uniforms blocked my view, so I lowered my gaze. Had I been in the same class as Sendai-san, would I have been a different person? Had I been in the same class as Sendai-san, would I have been able to trust her? Questions without answers whirled in my mind. —The Me That Sendai-san Wants. Amid thoughts that refused to die and the small memories we made, a certain realization seemed to pin itself in place. I didn’t really know what the right version of me was supposed to be. I wondered if becoming the person Sendai-san wanted might have changed the outcome. Yet, I couldn’t transform into anyone other than myself, nor could I become someone capable of trusting Sendai-san. When I thought about the future, it filled me with nothing but anxiety. I lifted my gaze. On the stage, the former student council president was delivering the farewell address. If only that had been Sendai-san, I would've been able to see clearly. I shook my head slightly at the thought. We sang the graduation song, returned to the classroom, and received our diplomas from the teacher. As I left the school with Maika and Ami, engaged in the usual silly banter, we parted ways. Not even five minutes had passed when a voice called out from behind. "Miyagi!" I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Sendai-san’s voice, and I simply quickened my pace. "Miyagi, listen to me!" The voice was closer now, but I still didn’t look back. "Shiori!" She called my name loudly, leaving me no choice but to stop. Reluctantly, I turned to face Sendai-san. "How many times have I told you not to call me by my name?" "That’s because you wouldn’t look at me, Miyagi," she retorted with a smile, running up to me. "I told you to come over to my place, but I didn’t say we’d go home together, did I?" Standing beside me, Sendai-san had unbuttoned the top of her blouse and loosened her tie as she always did. "You didn’t say it, but that's irrelevant." "Of course it’s relevant. Even if it’s not in school, it’s still part of the agreement not to call out like that in public, right?" "The graduation is over, so those rules don’t matter anymore." Sendai-san was just being her usual self, fast and loose. Even today, on our graduation day, she was completely unchanged. "Follow me from behind." "Got it." She responded, though not with much understanding, and immediately fell into step beside me as if it were the most natural thing. "I said to follow me from behind." "And I am following you from behind." I glared at Sendai-san, who clearly was not obeying my words. "Look closely." Her voice held not a hint of remorse, and I realized she was indeed walking just a little behind me. "That’s not what I meant." "Let's just say it is. This is our last chance to walk home in our uniforms anyway." There wouldn’t be any more occasions to wear the uniform. Nor would there be any chances to walk home with Sendai-san. Thinking that way, I almost felt compelled to accept her argument. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to assent. "Sendai-san." I stopped and turned to face Sendai-san, who also stopped, looking exactly the same despite the graduation ceremony. "What?" Whether it took fifteen or twenty minutes, or perhaps even longer, once we got home, I knew exactly what I would say to her. Sendai-san probably knew what I would say as well. Nevertheless, her face betrayed no sadness. I found her imperturbable demeanor irritating. It wasn’t as if I wanted Sendai-san to cry or look sad. I just wished, even just slightly, that she would not wear the same expression she always had. "Sendai-san, did you cry at the graduation?" "Not at all," she replied with a bright smile. I understood why thinking about the future filled me with such unease. Even if we decided to keep seeing each other, it wouldn’t be the same once college started. I’d be going to a different university, leading a different life. Whenever I met Sendai-san, it would only be occasionally, and I would only know her as she was during those moments. And most likely, regardless of what I asked her, she would continue wearing that nonchalant expression. If I told her I couldn’t forgive her for that, what kind of face would she make? I probably couldn’t bear knowing a version of Sendai-san that was beyond my reach. This realization came amid the small memories we made. I knew she wouldn’t accept me harboring such thoughts about her, and maybe I wasn’t normal for feeling this way. "Did you cry, Miyagi?" She asked with a tone that suggested tomorrow would be just like any other day. "Of course not." If I wanted to make my thoughts a reality, I would have to lock Sendai-san away somewhere. But that wasn’t practical, nor was it possible. In that case, it would be better to follow through with our agreement and end things today. "I see." Just like on the day we watched a movie, we headed home together. But unlike that day, we didn’t hold hands. "Do you want to take a detour?" Pointing to a store on the other side of the street, Sendai-san spoke with her usual demeanor. "No, let's just head straight home." "Okay." I quickened my pace. Naturally, Sendai-san continued to walk beside me. The instruction I gave her to follow from behind was ignored. Though I didn’t feel good about it, I didn’t change my pace and continued heading home.