122 - Story About Buying My Classmate Once A Week

Chapter 122 I know our destination. However, I have no clue where it is actually located. I am only familiar with the areas around our house and the university, so I follow Sendai-san without hesitation as she confidently walks ahead. After turning a few corners and boarding a train, I stare out the window while standing. The unfamiliar scenes streaming by strongly remind me that I am an outsider. Realizing I haven’t yet blended into this new environment, I feel a cloud of melancholy descending over me. If I remain like this, I might want to get off the train before we reach our destination. So, I shift my gaze to Sendai-san. "What is it?" Noticing my gaze, Sendai-san speaks without looking at me. "Nothing, really." “Are you already tired?” “I’m not.” With a curt response, the conversation dies. Sendai-san continues to look out the window. The scenery ceases to flow as the doors open, and the already bustling cabin grows noisier. As people get off, then board, and the doors shut again, Sendai-san calls out to me quietly, "Hey, Miyagi." "Why were you drinking orange juice this morning?" The train starts moving, picking up speed. I too look out the window as she does. "Just felt like it." "I see. Then why were you avoiding me?" Like the continuously changing scenery, our conversation flows smoothly and reaches a different landing point. “What do you mean? That has nothing to do with orange juice.” I voice my complaint about how naturally she changes topics. "Just answer me." Sendai-san's voice floats in the usual gentle manner. But when I turn my gaze from the window back to her, I see she wears an unexpectedly serious expression, making it impossible to brush her off. "…I didn’t know what to do." "I thought so." "After all, Sendai-san is always at home." I hadn’t meant to say this directly to her, but unable to fake the mood, I reluctantly admit the truth. “Well, we do live together after all. It’d be troublesome if you said it’s better I’m not here.” “I don’t mean that.” “Get used to me. Besides, it hurts if you avoid me.” “…I’m sorry.” I never intended to avoid her, but I did feel guilty, so I apologize. However, even Sendai-san avoids me at times. It’s not only my fault, but since she’s not as openly evasive as I am, it’s hard to complain. “When you weren’t home, you were meeting with Utsunomiya, right?” Sendai-san shifts her gaze from the window to me. “Yes, but…” “Where do you always go?” Because I had prior arrangements with Maika, I’d always mention her name as a reason for not being home to Sendai-san. However, being asked where exactly I’d gone confounds me. “Nowhere specific. Just around.” “Where is 'around' exactly?” “I don’t really know, so I leave it up to Maika.” “Even if you leave it to her, you still end up somewhere, don’t you?” “We don’t go anywhere significant.” It’s true we hadn’t visited any extraordinary places. But not everything I said was truthful. Nearly half the times I told Sendai-san I was meeting Maika, I hadn’t. I’d been spending time alone, browsing through bookstores or lingering in cafes. If I answered in detail where I’d been, I feared it might reveal I hadn’t met Maika. “Well, okay.” Although Sendai-san’s voice doesn’t seem entirely convinced by my answer, she doesn’t press the matter further. I feel relieved she’s given up, but her silence leaves me puzzled about where her interest lay. Was it Maika she was curious about, the places I visited, or was it something about me? I wonder what it was that Sendai-san really wanted to ask, but my thoughts are interrupted as the train rocks and the speed of the passing scenery decreases. “We’re getting off.” Her voice from beside me halts my train of thought. We disembark, grab a quick lunch, and walk to our destination—the home appliance section. Although our shopping list includes only an electric kettle, it takes quite a bit of time. It wasn’t an urgent purchase; we could have ordered it online. We could even have bought one near home. There was no need to take a train to this place and have lunch together just to buy one. I watch Sendai-san’s back as she stands a step above me on the escalator. Ever since we started living together, she’s been either braiding or leaving her long hair unbraided. Today, her hair is braided on both sides and pinned at the back. The makeup she wasn’t wearing when she woke up this morning is now applied. Apart from the lack of a uniform, her appearance hasn’t changed much from when we were in high school. Yet, she seems like a different person from back then. Actually, I am the one no longer looking at her in the same way I did back then. Surely, it’s because of the unused five thousand yen. I can’t find a place for my emotions. This new life and the Sendai-san who differs from before are proving difficult for me to handle in a neat manner. When I was a high school student, paying five thousand yen somehow settled things, but now, without that five thousand yen as a buffer, my unresolved emotions find no resolution. I wish I could return to when we wore uniforms and didn’t have to think about anything. I wouldn’t have to agonize over what to wear before stepping out of my room each morning. I wouldn’t worry about conversations teetering on the brink of fading out. There would be no insisting on wearing skirts from Sendai-san, and no fretting because she says nothing about not wearing one. I step off the escalator. And then, we get on another to go up again. The back straight in front of me stands tall, spine erect. Her long hair is so beautiful it makes me want to touch it. I find myself almost reaching out but then exhale. Perhaps, I’m just exhausted. I haven’t been sleeping well, and my head isn’t functioning properly. “Miyagi, over here.” Sendai-san walks straight ahead without taking the next escalator. Following behind her, I soon spot the line of electric kettles. As she murmurs, “Which one’s good?” she picks up several kettles to examine them. I simply watch her. There are kettles with round shapes and others with slender spouts. The electric kettles Sendai-san earnestly inspects come in different colors and shapes. Their functions likely differ too, but as long as they boil water, any should suffice. However, she meticulously compares them. I’m not in a hurry, but I think she could make a random choice more swiftly. “Which one do you prefer, Miyagi?” Sendai-san turns her gaze toward me. “Any is fine. Didn’t you research beforehand?” “I did look up some promising ones.” “Then just pick one of those.” “There are two contenders, so help me choose.” She points to two electric kettles, saying, “This one and this one.” “Either is fine, just pick the one you like.” “We’re both using it, so at least choose the color.” With that, she gestures towards a larger kettle and says, “I’ll take this one, so pick your favorite color.” "I don't particularly have a favorite color." The color doesn't affect an electric kettle's ability to boil water. Whether it's white, black, or red, any preferred color would suffice. Besides, it would make more sense for Sendai-san, who actually wants the kettle, to choose the color she likes rather than leaving it up to someone indifferent like me. "...Miyagi, are you like this when shopping with Utsunomiya too?" Sendai-san sighs as she speaks. "Like what?" "Cold. Completely uncooperative." Her tone of reproach plants a seed of guilt. With Maika, I can be more serious about whatever we do. When it comes to an electric kettle, I could ask about desired features, pick colors or designs. To put it frankly, I manage things better with anyone other than Sendai-san. Yet with her, the things I can do naturally with others become suddenly impossible. Although, sometimes, I end up doing things with her that I wouldn't with others. "Do you absolutely refuse to decide?" Hearing Sendai-san's voice, I focus on the lined-up kettles, then after a moment, voice a safe choice. "White. It feels more 'electric kettle-like'." "More like 'appliance-like', don't you think?" "Then, red." "Got it. White it is." With her decision reversing my change of color choice, Sendai-san dons an unnaturally bright smile as she grabs the white electric kettle and heads for the register. Reluctantly, I follow, and together we complete the purchase. "Is shopping done now?" Upon asking, she replies with a brief "Yeah," and I assume we're heading back. But then she mentions a detour and hops on the ascending escalator. "Aren't we going home?" I ask Sendai-san, whose determined strides suggest there’s already a destination waiting, even if she's yet to disclose it. "I just want to stop by somewhere." "Looking for something?" "No, but we've got time, so it's fine." She says this with a smile. Although her expression is gentle, her eyes show little intention of considering my opinion. Opting for silence over wasted effort, I simply follow her lead. Eating out, shopping, and window-shopping even without buying — surely, this beats consistently avoiding Sendai-san, and it seems like a prototype of a well-spent Sunday, too. For now, the idea of accumulating memories isn’t as intimidating as it once was. But I'm uncertain if this is the normal distance for roommates. "Miyagi, over here." Being guided down the escalator by Sendai-san, I am greeted by a mountain of plush toys. "You like these sorts of things, right?" I have no clue how Sendai-san sees me. It's not as if I collect or display plushies in my room. Of course, besides stuffed animals, the shop has various knick-knacks and toys. Even so, to have my tastes assumed feels presumptive, stirring my curiosity about what kind of person I am in her mind. But after all, I don't dislike the idea of looking around. Sendai-san seems to be enjoying herself, and there’s no pressing need to rush home. I approach a selection of plushies, pick one or two up, and put them back. As I wander deeper into the store, more fluffy figures come into view. Then, I spot something in a muted color and halt in curiosity. Investigating further, I realize it’s a tissue box cover. Come to think of it, the tissue box in the kitchen lacks a cover. I pick up the dark brown tissue cover. "What’s that supposed to be?" Sendai-san peers at what's in my hand while standing beside me. "A platypus." "Doesn’t it look like a crocodile?" "It doesn’t." "Isn’t it a mammal?" "Probably." My memory is hazy, but the platypus is supposed to be a bizarre creature, a mammal that lays eggs. "Miyagi, you like these kind of things, don’t you?" "Not really." "It’s fine if you don’t like it, but it’s pretty cute." As she says this, Sendai-san takes the platypus from me and strokes its head gently. "I'll buy it, so hand it over." I tug at the platypus’s bill in her hands. "It’s okay, I’ll buy it." "Why?" "It’s going in the kitchen, right? If that’s the case, it’s for both of us, so I'll cover it with money meant for shared purchases." Saying this as though it’s the most natural thing, Sendai-san playfully wiggles the platypus's little hand. "I never said it’s for the kitchen." "Isn't it?" "...Well, it is." "I'll buy it, then." Without waiting for my response, Sendai-san sets off. Inevitably, I trail after her, and the platypus becomes yet another purchase made with "money for shared items." It's this aspect of Sendai-san that I dislike. She always anticipates and takes action on things I intend to do. No matter what complaints I voice, she never yields. "Shall we head home?" It seems the day's itinerary is wrapped up, as Sendai-san leads the way back home with evident clarity. We retrace our steps back home, taking the same amount of time as our journey here, but without unnecessary detours or exchanging trivial banter. Silence doesn’t bother me much. We board the train, walk some more, and soon reach home. Sendai-san immediately opens the newly bought electric kettle and prepares tea. Sitting across from each other at the table, she hands me the bag containing the platypus tissue cover. "Here you go." "You open it, Sendai-san." Pushing the bag back to her, she silently retrieves the platypus from it, then points to the tissue box near me. "Hand me that." Following her instructions, I say "Here" and offer the tissue box, but instead, she grasps my hand. My heart thumps loudly. Her grip tightens. The firm hold stings. Yet, she doesn’t utter a word. In such moments before, even when I objected, she’d insist on kissing me, but today she doesn’t. Naturally, things have changed. Sendai-san is now a roommate, and there are no rules allowing for kissing. Yet, there aren’t any prohibiting it either. "Sorry." She quietly apologizes and releases my hand. The tissue box exchanges over to her and quickly finds its cover. There isn’t any specific rule regarding kissing, and even if there were one prohibiting it, Sendai-san, if she wished, would easily break it. But today, she seems bound by some invisible rule. And that’s what I dislike about her. "There, it’s done." On the not-so-large table, Sendai-san places the platypus-covered tissue box.