368 - Story About Buying My Classmate Once A Week

**Chapter 368** We talk about university and friends. Discuss things like being a tutor, even though it's not necessary. We engage in conversations that aren't exclusive to a birthday, while polishing off the potato salad and carpaccio. The birthdays with my family sealed in albums won't come back, but on the day I was born, someone is by my side. That someone is Sendai-san, and she's laughing happily. Such a birthday isn't bad. I find myself enjoying it too. After a good amount of time has passed, and the table is mostly cleared, Sendai-san smiles and says, "Shall we bring out the cake soon?" "I bought number candles this year." Her additional remark wasn't something I requested, so I voice my protest. "We don't have to use those." "But I bought them, so let's use them. You bought them for me on my birthday too, right? I won't sing and make it cheesy," she says softly, standing up and leaving the room, as if to avoid hearing my complaints. What Sendai-san will bring next is a “round cake.” To me, cakes hold more bad memories than good, but last year was a pleasant one, and it's here again this year. With Sendai-san, there is no "round cake I couldn't finish alone" left in the fridge. I don’t need to worry about leftovers. I can just focus on the sweetness of the cream and the softness of the fluffy sponge. "Sorry to keep you waiting," Sendai-san returns, setting a whole cake adorned with white cream and strawberries on the table. A “2” and a “0” candle is nonchalantly placed, flames lit. The lights go out, and the numbers on the cake assert their presence excessively. "Miyagi, happy birthday," True to her word, Sendai-san doesn’t sing. "Thank you." "Congratulations on turning twenty," She congratulates me again and prompts me to blow out the candles. I don’t particularly like such “obvious” actions, but I don't want to ruin her gesture. I take a small breath and blow out the candles. Sendai-san says "Congratulations" again and turns the lights back on. "I’ll bring a knife to cut the cake," She says brightly and leaves the room. Alone, I gaze at the round cake on the table. I know eternity doesn’t exist. I have always been afraid of losing things that have been around forever, and that fear remains. Entrusting a part of one’s heart. Believing is like that, the more you entrust, the deeper you can believe. But in turn, the deeper the wound when betrayed. A heart once carved away doesn't come back. Recreating the lost part is tough, and I dislike pain. So for me to believe is immensely difficult, but I yearn to make an exception. "I warmed up the knife," Returning with a bright voice, Sendai-san places a plate on the table. Then, she moves a chocolate message plate that reads "Happy Birthday" from the cake onto a dish and says, "Let's cut it," driving the knife decisively into its center, much like last year. I glance at the cat chopstick rest on the edge of the table. This cat chopstick rest was a gift to Sendai-san for her birthday last year. Two out of the five are in our shared space, and the remaining three reside in this room. Sometimes one is on the chest or perched atop a platypus head, but today, it’s dutifully watching over my birthday from the edge of the table. The piercings that Sendai-san has are what I gave to her last year; now they have blue earrings in them. Today on top of last year. Among things that I see, last year’s presence quietly persists. Whether I expect it or not, last year still remains here. "This one's yours, Miyagi," Sendai-san slices the cake into quarters, placing two on a plate before me, adorned with the message plate. "Thank you." "Don't you think I cut it more neatly than last year?" "I don't think there's much of a difference." "Miyagi, you're too harsh," She exaggerates a sigh, then looks at me with a smile, "Shall we eat?" Voices overlap in an “itadakimasu” as we dig in. Its shape doesn’t have the sharpness of a store-bought cake, yet it clearly has the triangular peak as I break it apart and take a bite. The lightly sweetened cream melts on my tongue, blending with the tender sponge. The strawberries are a tad tart, making me want another bite of the cream. I break another triangle and munch contentedly. It tastes so good I could eat endlessly. "Sendai-san," I look at her, engrossed in eating. "What is it?" I want a promise. Next year, the year after, and the one after that. I want a birthday promise. Though I’m not prepared to fully commit, those words almost spill out, but I swallow them. "Nothing." More good than bad would be preferable. Yet too much good incites anxiety. A world too convenient shouldn't last long, making me worry when something bad might happen. It's foolish to worry about not-yet-happened things, and not good to think negative thoughts during good moments, but it’s not easy to break the habit. "Miyagi, how's the cake? Is it good?" Hearing Sendai-san’s gentle voice, I reply, "Yes, it's delicious." "What kind of cake would you like next year?" “…Any round cake is fine.” "Alright. I'll think about what cake to get. Let's enjoy a delicious cake together again next year." Sendai-san is kind today too. She speaks of next year as if it's a given. That's why I want to stay by her side. "Alright, Miyagi. I'll get the drinks, and before we dig into the cake, let's have a toast," "We don't need to go through the trouble," "It's your first time drinking, so let's at least toast," She smiles and leaves the room, soon returning with alcohol and glasses, and announces with an excited voice, as if sharing a secret. "This is apple cider, it's called cidre; it's low-alcohol and easy to drink." I look at the three bottles placed on the table. Though they seem slightly different types, they’re all apple-based, as if to avoid exclusion. "It's not beer?" "Well, beer would have been alright, but I thought Miyagi might say no to beer. Plus, I’m not fond of carbonated drinks," Saying so, she adds, "You prefer carbonated, right?" "I like carbonated, but is there a non-carbonated one?" "There is. I plan to have the still type, the non-carbonated cider," Pulling one of the three bottles towards herself, Sendai-san asks, "I got both sweet and dry for carbonated, which do you want?" "Sweet." In short order, Sendai-san fills two glasses with cider, and places the one brimming with tiny, effervescent bubbles in front of me. "Pick up your glass for the toast," she insists without seeming to offer me any choice, holding her glass with a smile that leaves no room for dissent. Begrudgingly, I pick up my glass, upon which her bright voice fills the room. "Miyagi, happy birthday," she says once more, adding, "Cheers," and leaving me no option but to join in, "Cheers." "Now, Miyagi, take a sip," she urges, her eyes filled with expectation. I bring the glass to my lips, letting the liquid slip down to my stomach. "How is it?" she inquires eagerly. "It tastes like apple juice, but..." I trail off, something feels off. The unmistakable taste of apples spreads across my palate, but there's something unfamiliar mixed with it that I can't quite place. It's not necessarily unpleasant, but not compelling enough to declare it delicious without reservation. "But what?" Sendai-san prompts, probably noticing my ambivalent expression. Yet, it's difficult to articulate my thoughts. As I remain silent, she takes a sip from her glass, looks at me, and takes another. "It's good, just like apple juice. Here, Miyagi, try this," she says, handing me her glass to taste the non-bubbly cider. It still tastes like apples. Yet again, something other than apple lingers, catching at my senses. Whether it's carbonated or not, that isn't the issue. "Is it good?" "It feels like something odd is mixed into the apple juice," I respond. "You think the odd thing might be alcohol?" "I'm not sure, but probably." It's a taste absent in plain apple juice. Perhaps it's precisely this unfamiliar taste that signifies the drink as alcohol, and I find it not as palatable as Sendai-san does. However, it's not an unbearable taste that I can't drink at all. "Sendai-san, is this all the alcohol you have? Didn't you mention buying quite a bit?" "I did," she acknowledges. "Do you plan on drinking it all?" "I'm flexible; I might drink it, or I might not, depending on how I feel," Sendai-san replies, taking another sip of the liquid that so closely resembles apple juice.