126 - Story About Buying My Classmate Once A Week

Chapter 126 I still haven't decided what to do for Golden Week. No word from my family. But I anticipated that, so it doesn't bother me. Even if they told me to come home, it would feel unsettling. Discovering that my parents don't wish for my return is no longer a source of heartbreak for me. Since I never intended to go back in the first place, it suits me just fine. The issue is, without plans, I have a lot of free time on my hands. I want to spend some of that time with Miyagi. Several days have passed since I had the dream, and though I haven't asked her about her detailed plans for the holidays, I know that Miyagi isn't going home. The problem is, our discussions haven't progressed beyond this point. Asking her to hang out to kill time sounds trivial enough, but I doubt Miyagi would straightforwardly agree. I exhale with a sigh. I look up at the professor on the podium. The slides change one after another. While I listen to the lecturer's voice echoing through the room, I recall the sunny-side-up eggs I had this morning. Miyagi made them, and it seems they turned out perfectly without the yolks breaking unexpectedly, so she was in a better mood than usual. Yet, my one unnecessary comment changed the atmosphere entirely. I shouldn't have commented on her hairstyle. 'Let sleeping dogs lie,' as the saying goes. I'm well aware of how true that is. But people don't always live by what's right. Lately, I've felt the urge to fuss over the untouchable Miyagi, and with each superfluous remark, I end up upsetting her. Consequently, I left home without bringing up the topic of Golden Week like I intended. I can't even find a part-time job, and nothing seems to be going right. I sigh again and look at the slides. At university, the things that need doing should be done seriously, and socializing should be moderate. I don't aim for top grades, but I'd like to graduate and find a decent job. Now isn’t the time to be preoccupied with thoughts of Miyagi. The lecturer doesn't write much on the board, so if I'm not listening seriously, I won't grasp the lecture's content. Once more, I cast thoughts of Golden Week from my mind and focus on the teacher's voice. Unlike high school, a 90-minute class feels long. My pen glides across the notebook. Time ticks away—30 minutes, then 40 minutes—until the class concludes just shy of 90 minutes. "Hazuki." When I close my notebook, a voice calls my name. I look up to see Mio, one of the friends I've made since entering university, gazing at me from the seat directly in front. "I've got some good news." I don't intend to broaden my circle of friends, avoiding relationships like those from high school. Still, I've made a few friends, enough to spend idle moments sharing frivolous stories. "Good news?" "Yep. So, stop looking so gloomy and perk up with a smile." When I say that, Mio responds with a dazzling smile on my behalf. "You were looking for a part-time job, right? I've got a good one to recommend." Her spirited voice echoes. Indeed, I mentioned to Mio that I was job hunting. My parents provide the necessary funds for living, so I could get by without working. However, I want money. I have no intention of returning home after graduating college. I want to find a decent job here. Yet, things might not go smoothly; I might have to find a new place to live. Considering the myriad 'maybes' that lie ahead, it's wise to have some savings. That's why I plan to work and save money while I'm still a college student supported by my parents. "So, what kind of job is it?" "Private tutoring." Mio answers with a wide grin as we exit the lecture hall. "Mio, do you tutor?" "Do I look like the tutoring type?" "Not really." While Mio is friendly and bright, she doesn't tend to overthink things. In a positive light, she has decision-making skills, but negatively, she's somewhat impulsive. Having her as a tutor might be fun, but I doubt it would improve grades. "A quick answer, huh? Well, if you're interested, I'll introduce you." "A student?" "No way. I can't just introduce students. It's my senior I'm introducing. They're looking for someone who wants to tutor." Mio's words evoke memories of teaching Miyagi. I know it wasn't solely my doing, but Miyagi's grades likely improved when we studied together. Though I wouldn’t claim I’m fit to be a tutor, I found teaching somewhat enjoyable. "Is it okay if I just listen to what they have to say?" "Sure, that's fine." A light-hearted assurance rings down the corridor. "Then, please introduce me to your senior." I might not take the job, but I’m interested. I don’t know what Mio’s senior is like, but I’d like to at least hear them out. "Okay. I'll contact them." With a cheerful voice, Mio pulls out her phone. After exchanging several messages with her senior, she looks up at me. "They're busy right now. They said they’d like to talk directly when they have some free time. Can I give them your contact info?" "Sure." With that acknowledgment, Mio swiftly arranges it so her senior's contact is added to my phone. I’m told they’ll call in about three hours. Further, Mio starts detailing her senior, ingraining various personal details into my mind—like how they’re female and a third-year student. Even after my afternoon classes end, there’s no contact from the senior. As I board the train to head home and when I arrive at my doorstep, the call still hasn’t come. I take out my keys and open the door. The lights are on, and I spot Miyagi's shoes near the entrance. She’s early today. Removing my shoes and stepping inside, I find Miyagi—whom I expected to be in her room—standing in front of the refrigerator. "I'm home." I address her back. "Welcome back." Evidently, she’s been grocery shopping; a bag of ingredients lies beside her. "Sendai-san. What are you making today?" "Is there anything you want to eat, Miyagi?" "Doria." Miyagi starts putting groceries into the fridge and stands up. "Never made it before. Anything else?" "You're the one who asked what I wanted." "I just asked; I didn't say I'd make it. Anyway, did you buy doria ingredients?" "I don’t know what they are, so no." "Then it's impossible." I search for a recipe just in case and check the fridge, but we indeed have nothing for doria. "If you’re that desperate to eat it, why not go out for dinner?" I offer a practical suggestion. "Not today. Since I've already went shopping, let’s just make something." As expected, her curt reply comes back. I thought it might be nice to go out together for a change, but she doesn’t seem inclined. "Tomorrow?" I ask, not holding much hope for a positive response. "...Okay." Miyagi replies unexpectedly, and I look at her. Where should we go? What time? Just as I was debating which question to ask first and was about to inquire about where to go, my phone rang. "Hold on a second," I told her. I fished out the phone from my bag, its ringtone resonating. The screen showed the name of the senior Mio had mentioned. It seems they hadn't forgotten about our arrangement. Picking up the call, a calm voice relayed the purpose, and within five minutes, the conversation ended. I turned to Miyagi to apologize. "Sorry. Something came up for tomorrow. Is it okay if we do doria the day after instead?" "What's the engagement?" Miyagi asked, her voice dropping slightly. “I’m meeting someone who’s going to introduce me to a part-time job,” I explained. “—Are you planning to get a job, Sendai-san?” Miyagi’s focus shifted from the doria to the mention of a job, and she stared at me intently. “Yeah, I’m planning to. I want to save some money.” Though it wasn’t something I was hiding, I hadn’t yet mentioned to Miyagi that I was considering part-time work. It was simply a matter of never finding the right moment to bring it up with her. Miyagi tends to get in a bad mood or vanish in front of me before I can bring up important discussions. "What about the money I gave you back in high school?" Miyagi’s voice lowered further. “But that’s not mine,” I replied. “Even if it’s not yours, you can use it." With that, she gave my leg a soft kick. It wasn’t hard, just light against my shin, but I exaggeratedly said it hurt and shot her a look. Recently, Miyagi had been more subdued, and it rarely felt like we’d reverted to the way things were in the past with her kicking or biting me. But even so, I knew the current situation wasn’t something to be happy about. I distanced myself from Miyagi and sat down in my usual chair. “Are you breaking your promise, Sendai-san?” she asked, still standing by the fridge, her tone tinged with annoyance. “Sorry.” I clasped my hands together apologetically. Doria wouldn't run away, but the busy senior might be hard to meet if I missed tomorrow's chance. Since working part-time was one of my goals as a college student, I hoped she’d agree to delay our doria outing. Still, Miyagi didn’t say “okay.” She remained silent and didn’t come closer. “Is it absolutely necessary to have doria tomorrow?” I wavered, wondering whether I should prioritize the senior over doria. “...The day after tomorrow is fine, but there’ll be a penalty game,” she murmured. “Huh?” “You know there’s a penalty for breaking a promise.” Half resigned, Miyagi brought up a rule I didn't remember establishing. “Well, that’s not right. We only said penalty games apply when we break rules we set together, not just any promise,” I retorted. “Earlier, we decided to eat together, which is like a rule,” Miyagi argued, leaning over the table. “Your logic’s all over the place, Miyagi.” She was acting too extreme, trying to lump minor promises into the rules we established for living together. Yet, it seemed like Miyagi wasn’t going to budge, leaning over the table towards me. “We never said the penalty games were only for breaking our set rules, did we? So, I think it’s reasonable to have a penalty game for Sendai-san not doing what we decided earlier.” Strictly speaking, we hadn’t said penalty games were for breaking predetermined rules “only.” But that didn’t mean I should concede to Miyagi’s irrationality, and it was simply unreasonable. Even Miyagi herself must have known her argument lacked soundness. But she seemed to say it expecting I would comply with this unreasonable penalty game. I let out a small sigh. “Fine, let’s go with that this time. But what exactly do you intend to make me do for the penalty game?” “Haven’t decided yet.” “Is it the type of thing you need to take your time deciding on?” “Why not take it slow? After all, there’s no deadline for the penalty game, right?” A sense of dread started creeping in. Given unlimited time, Miyagi would surely come up with something nonsensical. “Decide by tomorrow.” “Impossible,” Miyagi declared firmly. “It's not impossible, you just don’t feel like deciding, do you? Do whatever you want; just let me know when you’ve decided." I was used to complying with her demands. I didn't mind enduring a penalty game. I was even accustomed to following absurd orders. So, this wasn’t a bad thing. With that thought, I stood up. “So, Miyagi, what are we having for dinner tonight?” I asked her, still standing in front of the refrigerator.