125 - Story About Buying My Classmate Once A Week

Chapter 125 Ascending the stairs to the third floor, I walk down the hallway, approach the entrance, and pull out my key. Upon opening the door and stepping inside, the house is shrouded in darkness. I flick the light on, and glance down. The space where Miyagi usually places her shoes remains empty, signaling she hasn’t returned yet. Despite knowing this, I say “I’m home” out loud, but receive no reply. A slight sense of disappointment washes over me. When I say "I'm home," I want to hear a welcoming "Welcome back." The memories of the dream I had this morning have faded throughout my day at the university. Although Miyagi doesn’t always come home before I do, it would have been nice if she were here today, as I feel I could finally look her in the eyes and speak. "Well, there's not much to talk about anyway." I murmur to no one in particular and slip off my shoes. Miyagi hadn’t mentioned she'd be late, indicating we would be having dinner together. With that in mind, I begin contemplating our dinner menu as I enter the house. As expected, it's empty. “I’m home.” I whisper again, this time directed at the empty dining kitchen. Then, just as I'm about to head into my room, my eyes catch something stacked on the table. “Books?” Drawing closer, I realize my guess was right — they are indeed books. Some volumes of the romance manga I’d been reading in Miyagi’s room before coming here, along with a few Shonen mangas whose titles are vaguely familiar even to me, rest on the table. So lending means she selects and gives me these. Exhaling softly, I place my bag on the chair where Miyagi often sits. Even though I know she’s not there, I knock on the door to Miyagi’s room. The light tapping sound fills the air, but no voice emerges from the other side. “Miyagi.” I call towards the door. Naturally, there’s no response. I press my palm flat against the door. The other side is another world. A world I’m not permitted to enter, and I don’t know when entry will ever be allowed again. I wish to cross into this realm beyond the door. I want to check if the black cat plush I gifted her still sits on the bookshelf unchanged or if tissues are sprouting from the crocodile’s back. I yearn to discover what’s present in that room and what isn’t anymore. Right now, the only thing separating me from that other side is a single, not particularly thick, nor impenetrably dense plank. It’s not impossible to open. If I break the rules, I could know what I want to know right now. Even if I enter without touching anything and leave immediately, Miyagi won’t find out. Breaking the rules without her finding out means there were no rules broken. More so, there’s a part of me that wishes she would find out. If I break the rules, I must heed one of her requests. That’s the agreement we have, so if I break the rules, it would lead to Miyagi issuing an order like before. Strictly speaking, it’s not an order and not exactly the same as before, but it would lead to something similar. "...It’s wrong, you know. Entering someone’s room without permission like that." Even if I were to break the rules, entering her room uninvited would be going too far. If she found out, Miyagi might leave this household without even giving punishment a chance. I rest my forehead against the door. There’s a soft thud, and the coolness spreads across my skin. I press my lips to the door, exhaling all of the air from my lungs. “What am I doing?” Perhaps today, I’m a bit out of sorts because of that dream. Despite feeling let down by the absence of a "Welcome back" to my "I’m home," maybe it’s better that Miyagi isn't here. Had she been present, it likely wouldn't have ended well. “Stupid Miyagi.” I hurl the complaint at the door before turning away. Snagging one of the romance mangas from the table, I sit down. Flipping through it, I can’t recall the storyline from the previous volume. I wish to fill in those hazy memories. But what lies presumably beyond that single door isn’t immediately accessible. It feels frustratingly out of reach. I return the romance manga to the table, opting instead to begin with the first volume of the shonen manga piled there. I open the book in hand, reading page after page. While they can’t spark the recollection of a forgotten story, they are entertaining. Yet, thoughts of choosing my own reading material as I used to incessantly swirl in my mind, making it difficult to focus. Nonetheless, I continue through to the second volume and pick up the third. Midway, the soft sound of "I'm home" breaks my concentration, prompting me to look up. "Welcome back." "You could read that in your room." Miyagi comments while glancing at the manga I’m reading. "I thought you’d want me to welcome you." "You can say that from your room too." "But this way, I can say it right away, and that’s better." Miyagi neither confirms nor denies, fishing out a soda from the refrigerator with a hint of irritation, pouring it into a glass. She takes a sip of the clear liquid before setting the glass on the table. Our eyes meet as she looks at me. Unlike this morning, I hold her gaze without turning away. “Is it interesting?” Miyagi doesn’t specify, but the only thing she could be referring to is the manga in my hands. “Just okay.” “When you’re done, let me know. I’ll tidy up.” With that, Miyagi starts to head back to her room, prompting me to quickly grab the romance manga I barely began earlier. “Wait. Do you have all the volumes from the beginning?” “I do.” “Then lend them to me. I’ve forgotten the earlier plot.” I’m not particularly invested in the buried storyline of the manga. It wouldn’t bother me to leave it forgotten, and starting from the very beginning seems excessive. Yet, it serves as a convenient excuse for what I truly want. “I’ll fetch them, so hang on.” “I’ll carry the books myself, so let’s go together.” I rise and position myself beside Miyagi. “Eh?” “Let me into your room.” “...No.” Miyagi responds after a moment of consideration. “Why?” “Because I think you’d do something weird, Sendai-san.” Her words bring back memories of the dream from earlier today. I can imagine what she means by "something weird." However, what I dreamt is far beyond Miyagi’s notion of "weird," which causes an ache in my chest. Yet my desire to enter Miyagi’s room isn’t to do something improper. I simply wish to see how things have changed, in a place I previously had access to before coming here. There are no impure intentions. At least, I believe there shouldn't be. Ambiguity rises in my thoughts. But I don’t need to convey my emotions truthfully, so I refute Miyagi’s assumption. “I won’t. What do you take me for, Miyagi?” “...A roommate.” To my inadequate retort, she returns the correct answer. As Miyagi said, we are roommates. And if we’re to live peacefully for four years, continuing as just roommates would be wisest. Yet, after spending a few weeks with Miyagi, I’ve begun to question if merely maintaining a roommate relationship is truly the right choice. I wonder if we're confining ourselves to that status — one that denies even momentary contact — under the pretense of being just roommates. “What?” Miyagi regards my silence with a perplexed expression. On the day of the graduation ceremony, I established a new relationship — that of roommates — to bring Miyagi here. At that time, it felt like the best choice, the only viable answer. "Being roommates with Miyagi feels kind of strange, doesn't it?" I say, trying to convince myself with a vague smile as Miyagi furrows her brow. "It was you, Sendai-san, who said we could be roommates. Take responsibility and act like one," she retorts. "Okay, okay," I reply, brushing it off. "I'll bring the books, so just wait here, Sendai-san," Miyagi insists. "It's fine," I say. "Huh?" "Forget the books. Let’s make dinner." Instead of heading to her room, I move toward the refrigerator. "Isn't it a bit early?" Miyagi's voice trails from behind me. "I'm hungry," I say, giving an offhand excuse, and ask Miyagi what she wants to eat as I inspect the contents of the fridge.