191 - Story About Buying My Classmate Once A Week

Chapter 191 With a bowl and spatula ready, I take the butter out of the refrigerator. Handing Miyagi the flour sifter, I ask her to sift the cake flour, only to hear a disgruntled murmur in response. "Can't we just use the cake flour as is?" "Apparently not." The cookie recipe I found on my phone specifies that the butter should be softened at room temperature and the cake flour should be sifted. "Why?" "Who knows? Maybe to make it taste better." I reply while cracking and mixing the eggs. "Sendai-san, you're pretty laid-back, aren't you?" "I'll look up the reason later; for now, just go ahead and do it. You'd prefer it to be delicious, right? If it's a hassle, I can do it, so just leave it there." The recipe doesn’t explain why the flour should be sifted, but it wouldn’t say so unless it was necessary. Rather than skipping steps, I'd prefer to follow the procedure as outlined. "…Fine, I'll do it." With a less-than-enthusiastic tone, she begins sifting the flour. It's just the two of us in the shared space. Watching the flour fall into the bowl, I'm lost in thought. The day after my birthday, as I ate cookies given to me by Kikyo-chan, I'd imagined baking cookies with Miyagi, and now it's a reality. The long summer vacation has been filled with nothing but positive experiences, making me feel like I've borrowed good fortune from next year to have so many good things happen. Despite the great day at the aquarium, I had believed there could be even more wonderful experiences, yet there's been so much fun that I'm worried for next year's self. I don't believe that good and bad events have to be in balance, or that having good things will inexorably bring bad ones. But the streak of good fortune makes me suspect that some misfortune might strike to correct the balance due to how cold Miyagi has been until now. "Sendai-san, stop staring and get to work." Miyagi halts her sifting, glaring at me. Although she seems ready to voice another couple of complaints, she’s making cookies with me, which is a slight change from before. I have no idea what tomorrow's Miyagi will be like, but even if she's in a bit of a bad mood, she should still choose to be with me like today. I hope that after the summer break, the good times will continue. "Alright, I'm on it. Could you please sift the sugar too?" I ask her to sift the sugar, then add the butter to the bowl to be creamed with a whisk. Though I'm uncertain why it needs creaming, I mix it thoroughly, then incorporate the sifted sugar. Like Miyagi, I’m curious about the need for creaming, but I decide to investigate later, adding the beaten eggs gradually and mixing well. Once the batter becomes fluffy, I add the sifted flour, folding it in gently with the spatula, wrap the dough, and place it in the refrigerator. "How long do we have to wait?" Miyagi inquires while looking at the refrigerator. "The recipe says thirty minutes to an hour, so thirty should be alright." "Even thirty minutes feels long." Her voice drops slightly, and I grasp her hand to prevent her from retreating to her room. "What's with this hand?" Miyagi glances down at our linked hands. "I thought you might head back to your room." "I'm not, so let go." When she shakes her hand away, I obediently release it, and she sits back down on the chair. It seems like she’ll stay in the shared space while the dough is chilling. I turn my back to Miyagi and start with the dishes. Placing the used utensils and bowls in the sink, I reach for the dish soap, and hear her call, "Sendai-san." "What?" Answering while washing the spatula, a reserved voice follows. "Did you plan to make cookies today?" "Not really, but why?" "Because you had the ingredients." "Pure coincidence. Cookie ingredients aren't exactly rare, you know." "True, but…" Miyagi's voice trails off, leaving only the sound of washing dishes to fill the shared space. At times like this, she keeps her thoughts to herself. Though I, too, often hold back my words, it seems Miyagi swallows twice as many. "If you have something to say, you should say it." Even though I don’t expect a reply, I give it a shot. "It's nothing." As expected, her response is short, and she falls silent once more. While we've come to talk about mundane things, there are still words hidden deep within our hearts that neither of us dares to voice. I, too, have unspoken words, so for now, I plan to leave it be. I finish washing up quickly, place a chair beside Miyagi, and sit down. "Sendai-san, why come all the way over here?" "Because it's better to be close." If we're going to be together, I want to be within reach. But as there's nothing in particular to discuss, we end up just sitting in silence. The waiting time for the cookies feels excessively long. After this, there’s still the task of baking the dough in the oven. Though shorter than the dough's resting time, the oven will take about fifteen minutes. If we had made something like last summer's French toast, where there was always something to be doing, conversation might have flowed more freely. Recalling last summer's events, I remember using French toast as an excuse to escape the urge to touch Miyagi. "Why so quiet?" Miyagi complains, lightly tapping my foot. "I was reminiscing about last summer, how we made French toast together." "…At that time, why did you suddenly go out for French toast ingredients?" Clearly recalling last summer, she asks what I’d rather not explain. "Well, who knows? I’ve forgotten." I reply as lightly as I can, squeezing Miyagi’s hand. Over a year has passed since then, and our relationship has changed. As roommates now, I can reach out whenever I like. "Miyagi." Though I haven't quite managed to call her Shiori, squeezing her hand while calling her by name doesn't upset or frighten her anymore. Gently pulling her hand towards me, I bring our faces closer. While Miyagi never initiates, she now comfortably closes her eyes, expecting what's to come. I bridge the gap, brushing her lips with mine, then draw away. Miyagi has changed. This realization, clear only when looking back, shows she's now different from the Miyagi of those days. It's not a negative change. If that's true, I want her evolution to continue as I wish. And I hope it happens swiftly. Though I know patience is necessary, I can’t help but wish for it. I want her to change even faster than it takes for the cookies to bake. "Sendai-san, what's the time? Hasn't it been about thirty minutes?" While still holding hands, Miyagi turns to me. Checking my phone, I see it's a bit early. "Just a little longer." "If it's just a little longer, isn't that fine?" Saying so, Miyagi stands and opens the refrigerator. Despite my protest, she takes out the cookie dough and calls me over, “Sendai-san.” "What’s next?" Upon Miyagi’s question, I suddenly remember we don’t have a rolling pin. "We need to roll out the dough... Hang on a sec." I search on my phone for substitutes for a rolling pin, standing before the cookie dough laid on the counter. "Miyagi, grab the jam for me." "Jam?" "Yeah." With a perplexed expression, she retrieves a jar of jam from the fridge. Taking it from her, I wrap the jar in plastic wrap and use it to roll out the dough. "Aren’t these supposed to be rolled out with a rolling pin?" "There’s nothing else to use, so it's a necessary adaptation. Oh, and we also don't have cookie cutters." What started as a planned cake has pivoted to cookies, leaving us with a few missing tools. "…So you were serious earlier." Miyagi mutters softly. "Serious about what?" "About not planning to make cookies." "I suppose." I decide to cut the flattened dough into squares with a knife. While they won’t be the cutest cookies, the taste should remain unaffected. After scoring the dough vertically, just as I’m about to make horizontal cuts, Miyagi’s hand reaches over. "Can I have this part?" She points to the very edge of the dough. "Sure, but what for?" "I want to shape it however I like." After giving Miyagi a vertical strip of dough, I proceed with horizontal cuts. Soon, the squares are ready, and I glance at Miyagi to find her molding the cookie dough like clay, crafting something. She’s rolling the dough into spheres, stacking them snowman-style, and adding what appear to be ears on top. "Is that... a cat?" The thought flits through my mind—watching a cat crafting a cat—but I hold the words back, knowing they might lead to trouble. "Could be a dog." If called a dog, it could pass as one, but it leans more toward a cat. However, the shape isn't the issue here. "That looks like it might not bake through." Despite Miyagi's earnest efforts, the thickly molded dough seems unlikely to cook evenly inside. "What should I do, then?" "Flatten it more." "I don't want to." "Not wanting to is fine, but it won't matter if it doesn’t bake. Hand the cat over." When I extend my hand, she reluctantly hands over the dough cat. "Sendai-san, you're so mean." Her resentful tone follows as I roll the dough into a ball and divide it in two. I give one half back to her and flatten the other into a circle, shaping ears and eyes into a face. Miyagi follows suit, molding a cat face, and we place all the dough into the preheated oven to bake. I decide to sit and wait for fifteen minutes. Meanwhile, Miyagi remains fixated on the oven, her gaze unwavering. "Is it interesting?" "Just average." Her curt reply comes back. If it’s only average, she might as well turn to face me, I think. "Miyagi." "What?" Still, she doesn’t look my way. Standing up, I hug Miyagi from behind. "Don’t cling to me; it’s hot." She lightly taps my arm wrapped around her waist. "Come on, what’s the harm?" "It is harmful." She diligently pries off my hands and returns to her seat. Well, alright then. If the bonus moments stretch too long, it leaves me feeling anxious. Perhaps this amount is just right to mark the end of summer break. So, I sit next to Miyagi once more, just like earlier.