163 Sendai-san and the Calico Cat - Story About Buying My Classmate Once A Week

Sendai-san and the Calico Cat Chapter 163 It's indeed not there. On my way back from university, I always keep an eye on my surroundings, careful not to appear suspicious. Yet, I've never caught sight of the calico cat Sendai-san speaks of. "She wasn't lying about the cat, right?" Part of me wants to believe there aren't any cats in the neighborhood, but she wouldn't have a reason to lie to me. If there is indeed a cat out there, and I can't find it, maybe it just doesn't want to show itself to me. It's rather frustrating. I find it unfair that the cat would reveal itself to Sendai-san and not to me. I pick up my pace. Ascending the stairs, I reach the third floor, open the front door, and slip off my shoes. Sendai-san's shoes aren't here, indicating no one is in the shared space. I'm accustomed to returning home first and finding the apartment empty. I've been used to this since I was a child—saying "I'm home" without receiving a response. It was normal for me to be alone until Sendai-san started coming around, and I'd forgotten how lonely it could be. Now, having prolonged time alone feels lonely. Sendai-san has integrated herself into my life quite deeply. She brought feelings I never had when I was alone, and they can be bothersome at times. I let out a sigh and enter my room, picking up a plush black cat relaxing on my bookshelf and dive onto my bed. Today’s a day off from work, so Sendai-san should be home early. The thought that she might come back after petting the calico cat makes me feel restless. I stroke the black cat plush’s belly. The sensation is different from when I'm with Sendai-san. What I hold is a stuffed toy, whereas Sendai-san is human. She has body warmth, and her body isn’t filled with cotton. When I place my hand on her, her stomach moves in sync with her breathing, and if I press too hard, she’ll complain. It's more interesting than just touching a plush. I’d like to touch her again if she’d allow it. But I haven’t had the chance to since, so I content myself with the plush’s belly instead. I give the black cat plush a firm squeeze. As it's not designed to make noise, it merely bends silently. Even when I gently stroke it, it wears the same expression as always. "So dull." I place the black cat on my stomach, giving its head a pat. Sendai-san said she likes cats. Ever since she mentioned that, I've been pondering whether this plush cat, a Christmas gift, holds any significance at all. ...Probably not. I gaze from my bed at the crocodile tissue cover. The black cat plush is a friend to that crocodile. I recall Sendai-san saying so. That’s all there is to it—the plush is just a plush. Even if there’s some hidden meaning behind it, I can’t very well ask about a Christmas gift now. Being with Sendai-san daily gives rise to more questions, but that’s it. Most things I wish to know remain out of reach. Instead, what filters into my brain is slightly different from what I'm looking for. I’ve learned that Sendai-san prefers cats over dogs, enough to go searching for them, and that her belly, which I’ve touched before, feels even more pleasant now. These unexpected pieces of information aren’t much, but they help curb my frustration over what remains a mystery. I sit up. Today, I've got assignments to tackle. Contrary to the image that university students do nothing but play, reality is different. Things might change in the second or third year, but as a first-year student, there’s a lot to handle. I mistakenly thought I could coast through university life by slacking off. I can't laze around indefinitely. Reluctantly, I set up my laptop, power it up, and prepare my materials on the desk. As I’m typing on the keyboard, a gentle knock on the door interrupts me within thirty minutes, accompanied by Sendai-san’s soft voice. "Miyagi, you there?" Standing and opening the door, she says "I'm home" before I have the chance to respond. "Welcome back." "I'm hungry, so why don’t we make dinner a bit early?" "Sure thing." The numerous questions I want to ask never make it past my throat, and what comes out is the usual exchange. I step out of my room, moving beside Sendai-san, who’s standing by the table. "Is Utsunomiya showing up as planned?" "Yeah." The scheduled day is the day after tomorrow, and Maika will be coming over in the early afternoon on Sunday. To be honest, I’m not keen on Maika and Sendai-san being in the same room. Watching the two of them together breeds an indescribable discomfort, like paint swirling in water. But it was a promise made last month, and I can't cancel now. "Don't say anything weird, Sendai-san." I warn her, unsure of her unpredictability. I doubt she'd touch me in front of Maika, but she might say something unnecessary. "I won’t. I promise I won’t say anything that'll bother you, so don't worry." "That's the least trustworthy assurance coming from you, Sendai-san." "Then should I swear upon the earrings?" As she says this, she gently touches my ear. Her fingers move as if to knead my earlobe, tickling me, and I push her shoulder. Yet her fingers do not leave my ear. "Not now," I say. "Why not?" Sendai-san strokes the earring, her fingers tracing behind my ear. It seems to carry more than just a promise, making my heartbeat loud. Though I know I'm simply overconscious of her, my nerve endings seem to focus solely on my ear. Even as I insist there's no need for a promise, Sendai-san leans in, her lips brushing close to my ear. Her warm breath tickles the edge of my ear, prompting me to kick her foot. "Ouch." Sendai-san steps back, removing her hand from my ear. "I kicked because it was meant to hurt." "Go easy on me." "If I did, you wouldn’t move away." "True, but... you don’t want me to swear?" "If you swear now, you might say it’s expired by the time Maika arrives. Make the promise Sunday morning." I decide both the content of the promise and when she’ll make it. If left unchecked, Sendai-san has a tendency to add or drop clauses from a promise on her own. "I still have zero trust from you," Sendai-san says, sounding aggrieved as she opens the fridge. "If I saw the cat, I might just trust you a little more." I do trust her more than before, but that doesn't mean I can believe everything. "You mean the calico cat in the neighborhood?" I hear the soft click of the fridge door closing. "Yes. I've never seen it." "…It’s there, really." Seemingly feeling accused, Sendai-san looks at me, troubled, before suggesting, "Shall we make omelettes this evening?"