154 A Secret Miyagi Must Not Know - Story About Buying My Classmate Once A Week

A Secret Miyagi Must Not Know Chapter 154 Even the most special days fade into the past with the passage of time. By deliberately tucking away the memories of that day into a discreet corner of my heart, I am able to go about my life with Miyagi as if nothing has changed. Though I’m not entirely satisfied with the monotony of living the same day over and over, it does help to restore our relationship to its former state. Yet, it doesn’t mean each day is an exact replica of the last. “Sensei, is university fun?” Hanamaki-san, who was working on her homework, looked up at me. “It’s so-so. Do you enjoy school, Hanamaki-san?” I’m still unsure if I’m doing a good job as a tutor, but I’ve become accustomed to being called ‘Sensei’ while working as one. Having figured out how to interact with Hanamaki-san, I no longer feel the initial awkwardness. Even as I strive to remain unchanged, I find myself evolving in my role as a tutor. “It’s fun. I’d like to stay in junior high forever.” With a sigh that bordered on exaggerated, Hanamaki-san made a remark unbecoming of someone preparing for exams. “I’d rather remain a junior high student. My current class is enjoyable.” “High school might be fun too, you know.” “Was it fun for you, Sensei?” I didn’t get into the high school I wanted. I tried to make the best of it, aiming for a fulfilling school life, and I managed to have some fun. But ‘some fun’ was all it amounted to. However, spending nearly half of my high school years with Miyagi changed that. “In the end, it was enjoyable.” “In the end? Does that mean it wasn’t fun in the middle?” “It was fun midway too. So, Hanamaki-san, you might find fun things as well.” I respond with a smile. “I understand that I might find such things, but I still think now is best,” Hanamaki-san said, letting out another sigh before continuing. “So, what did you find fun, Sensei?” Though not overly excitable, Hanamaki-san enjoys talking, and our conversations frequently stretch on without end. This aspect of her is starkly different from the often silent Miyagi. “Hmm, let’s see.” It’s difficult to pin down what was fun, and I find myself at a loss for words. I can’t discuss my moments with Miyagi, and even if I did, it wouldn’t sound all that enjoyable to the listener. “Was it because you had a lover or something?” A voice full of curiosity intrudes, bringing Miyagi’s face to mind. I dismiss the thought of Miyagi, force a smile, and respond. “I get it. You’re having fun in junior high because you have a lover.” “I don’t have someone like that.” Hanamaki-san replies instantly. “Oh, I see. Well, let me know if you ever have someone like that.” These casual conversations serve as a break and lighten the mood. Interspersing our study sessions with a bit of chatter seems to refresh her, after which she can focus better. Normally, we’d continue chatting for a while longer, but continuing this particular conversation feels unwise. “Shall we get back to it?” I break off our conversation and encourage her to resume her homework. Hanamaki-san gives a brief response, “Yes,” and returns her gaze to her notebook. The pen moves swiftly across the white paper. Afterward, I oversee her studying until time is up, and then I leave Hanamaki-san’s house. Walking to the station, I board the train. I recall my conversation with Hanamaki-san. The word “lover” doesn’t suit what Miyagi and I were during high school, nor does it fit now. I don’t know if it ever will. I’ve always resisted letting my feelings for Miyagi justify what happened on Sunday. While that sentiment remains unchanged, I don’t know when it would be proper to express those feelings. Whether I say it today or tomorrow, the word “love” seems destined to be perceived as nothing more than an embellishment to make my past self appear right. I see no future where my feelings are conveyed correctly. And so, the word “lover” remains a distant concept, seemingly irrelevant to me. At this moment, the desire to preserve the relationship we’ve built outweighs any desire to be called a “lover” by Miyagi. Time has made me cautious, revealing how much I stand to lose by declaring my feelings. The train stops, then starts again. Repeating the same thing over and over, it gets closer to its destination. Where exactly are Miyagi and I heading? I don’t even know if we’re aiming for the same destination. I step off the train that repeats the same journey every day. Walking home under streetlights, I climb the stairs and open the door. In the entryway are Miyagi’s shoes. In the shared space, a note flutters on the table. “You can have the pudding.” Checking the refrigerator, I find two puddings placed inside. Instead of taking a pudding, I pull out some vegetables and pork to stir-fry. After a simple dinner, I feel satisfied and approach Miyagi’s room. I knock three times, and Miyagi peeks out. “Did you eat the pudding?” “I just got home. I came to invite you to eat it.” With that, Miyagi emerges from her room and quietly takes a seat. I place two puddings and two spoons on the table and sit down as well. “Let’s eat.” We speak in unison. Taking the lid off, I scoop the pudding with a spoon and taste it. Its firmer texture is surprisingly sweet. Glancing at Miyagi, I see her slowly breaking the pudding and eating it with what seems like good spirits. Being together like this confirms that Miyagi doesn’t dislike me. Still, not being disliked doesn’t equate to being loved. Besides, Miyagi tends to dismiss my words. Even if I were to express my feelings, there’s a chance it wouldn’t be seen as anything other than a justification for what happened on Sunday. Convincing Miyagi to believe my words seems incredibly challenging, and I suspect that if I were to suggest dating, she’d reflexively decline. Even now, if I vaguely mention, “You seem in a good mood,” she’d likely deny it by saying, “Not really.” Cautious as a stray cat wary of change, Miyagi avoids shifts in our dynamic. Confessing affection could significantly alter our relationship and risk ending everything. If my confession were to dissolve our status as roommates, Miyagi might vanish from my life. If that’s the case, then perhaps it’s better to say nothing at all. By maintaining a routine, I can continue interacting with Miyagi as a roommate. This way, nothing changes, and there’s nothing to lose. Even if the status quo leaves me somewhat dissatisfied, I can still revisit and contemplate the memories buried in the past. For now, enduring the present suffices. The word "lover" doesn’t seem worth the risk of losing everything. I take another bite of the yellow mass, swallow, and ask, “Miyagi, where did you buy this pudding?” “The convenience store over there.” “I’d like to try some almond tofu next time.” “Get it yourself.” “You’re so stingy, Miyagi.” By not confessing, I can enjoy such frivolous conversations. That alone is enough to make me happy. We continue our meaningless conversation while eating pudding. After finishing the dessert, we linger in conversation for a while until it trails off, prompting me to stand up. I move closer to Miyagi. As I gently brush her hair aside and touch her ear, she shifts slightly, tickled, and grabs hold of my clothing. My fingers trace along until they encounter something hard. It's shaped like a small flower, and as I feel it, I'm reminded of how special I am to Miyagi. Even if I'm the only one who feels this way, it's fine by me. I press my lips lightly against her cheek, barely making contact before pulling away. By maintaining the status quo, I can at least enjoy moments like this—a simple kiss. With my thumb, I graze her lips. As Miyagi starts to withdraw, she looks up at me. Our eyes meet. I clench my hand tightly, aware of my quickening heartbeat; I worry my heart might burst before I can even reach out to Miyagi. Closing my eyes, I brush my lips against hers. A moment—a fleeting touch—and then I pull back. Opening my eyes, I find Miyagi still there, unchanged before me. “Tomorrow, you’ll have to buy something other than pudding,” she says, letting go of my shirt. “Got it.” A little patience is all it takes. Right now, having Miyagi here with me matters most.