204 - Story About Buying My Classmate Once A Week

Chapter 204 I step into the room, taking a deep breath before exhaling. My heart's racing, like when I walk too quickly, and I try to calm it down. Although I've entered this room countless times, today feels a bit different with Miyagi's demeanor, making me slightly tense. "Stand there and take off your clothes," Miyagi instructs flatly, pointing to a spot in front of the bed. "You mean this?" I ask, tugging at my cardigan while looking at Miyagi beside me. "The T-shirt and the skirt too." "Not just the cardigan and T-shirt?" I reflexively ask for clarification. I expected her to mean the cardigan and the T-shirt underneath it, but I didn't think it included the skirt as well. "Yes, I said the skirt too." "So, you want me down to my underwear?" "If there's any other clothing, you should let me know." "...There isn't. Should I turn off the lights?" "No. Hurry up and stand there and take off your clothes," Miyagi says quietly. The curtains are closed, so no one can see in from outside. The room isn't too cold or too warm. However, even so, I can't just say, "Sure" and take off my clothes easily. I've taken off my shirt in front of Miyagi before, but the mention of the skirt makes me hesitate. This isn't a particularly good penalty game. I slowly exhale and look at Miyagi. She doesn't seem to be joking about stripping. "Aren't you going to undress, Miyagi?" "It's your penalty game, Sendai-san, so obviously I'm not stripping." "But it's embarrassing if it's just me." "It's a penalty game, so a little embarrassment is just right." I didn't notify her that I'd be late and, though aware she wanted a kiss, I didn't grant it. While I can think of reasons Miyagi might be upset, neither seems severe enough to warrant being asked to strip. "Sendai-san," Miyagi speaks without hiding her irritation and looks at me. Until the penalty game concludes, I doubt her mood will improve. It's not like I'm taking everything off. I tell myself as I stand in front of the bed. "Here is fine, right?" "Yes." "Just to be clear, why do I need to strip? There's a rule about maintaining common decency during penalty games." "We're not doing anything that requires the lights to be off, so it's fine." Even though I hear Miyagi's words, I still have no clue what she's planning to do. It's something I sometimes dream about. Being asked to undress, I fleetingly wonder if maybe it could be... except Miyagi would usually turn off the lights for such things, and in her current mood, she wouldn't even allow a kiss, much less anything else. "So what kind of things require the lights to be out?" "What you're thinking. We're not doing that, so hurry and undress." Well, of course not. There's no way a penalty game would be that. I take off my cardigan, fold it neatly, and place it on the floor. Miyagi is watching me intently. Her gaze is sharp and piercing, showing no signs of reducing its intensity. It’s as though she hasn’t even considered the discomfort of being observed. She could avert her gaze or even blink, but it seems as if that feature has malfunctioned in her as she continues to stare at me without reprieve. With a sigh, I grip the hem of my T-shirt. "...What if I don’t?" What would happen if I refused to comply with the penalty game? I have the right to at least ask that. "I'd kick you out and never let you back in." I don't know if Miyagi understands how significant that would be to me, but she hits right where it would hurt the most to hear. "Could you at least avert your eyes a bit?" "Come on, Sendai-san, you don’t get embarrassed." Miyagi's comment is terribly impolite. I do experience embarrassment, after all. But shedding my clothes could improve her mood, and from the moment I set foot in this room, saying no didn’t feel like an option. Miyagi’s words leave me no room for any choice. All options stripped away, I can only progress towards the predetermined outcome, unable to resist. Something's clearly wrong. I know this is irrational, but like water flowing downhill, I find myself moving in the direction Miyagi desires. "Like I said earlier, even I get embarrassed," I insist as I pull off my T-shirt, then slide off my skirt, laying them on the floor. The lights are glaring, and Miyagi, fully dressed, continues to observe me. Standing here unclothed while she remains clothed is unsettling. She approaches slowly and pulls back the blanket. "Sit," comes her order, resonating in my head. I'm curious about the real nature of this penalty game. “Sendai-san,” she whispers, placing her hand against my neck. Her touch isn't warm or cold, yet its presence is distinctly Miyagi’s. Though I've felt her warmth countless times, my neck becomes stiff as if it’s the first time I’m experiencing it, and I become acutely aware of her hand. With her fingers applying pressure, I lower myself onto the bed. Just the absence of a covering makes my body feel vulnerable. Her hand slides from my neck down to my shoulder, gently caressing it. As I meet her gaze, she tugs my bra strap. "This too, take it off." Before I can respond, she’s pulling down the straps, allowing it to fall from my shoulder. "I took off my clothes, so isn't the penalty game over?" "It hasn't even started yet. This is just preparation. I'm taking it off." Miyagi reaches behind as though embracing me, but instead, she deftly unhooks my bra. With nothing to keep it in place, the garment easily loses its function, and I instinctively cover myself with my hands. "Hold on, Miyagi. Wasn't it just the clothes?" "Move your hands." Her voice falls with an irritated tone. She doesn't seem inclined to answer my question. I suppose I could remove my hands, but at least let me prepare myself mentally. "Can I have a moment?" "No." Her immediate response prompts a quiet sigh from me. "Then can you step back a bit?" I lightly tap my toe against Miyagi's foot, creating a bit of distance. I slowly lower my hands and remove my bra. As I exhale softly, she snatches it, placing it on top of the clothes I've taken off. With each piece of clothing removed, Miyagi's gaze becomes more intense. I can clearly feel her focus on my chest now. "You're staring too much." I voice my complaint, to which she calmly responds. "Sendai-san, you’re beautiful—your face and your body." Her unexpected compliment catches me off guard. For Miyagi to say something flattering about me is rare. I worry she might have bumped her head somewhere. But then again, if she were thinking clearly, she wouldn't demand someone strip as a punishment in the first place. Yet, hearing such words from her in this unorthodox situation makes it even harder to meet her eyes. "Thanks, I guess. But getting stared at too much is embarrassing," I say, my cheeks growing warm. They're probably turning red. "You didn't message me, and you came home late, so it's your own fault, Sendai-san. If you say you’re not going to work at your part-time job tomorrow, I'll stop," Miyagi said. "I'll go to work," I replied. "Then let's continue. Lie down on the bed." "I thought you said we wouldn’t do anything that requires turning the lights off?" "We're not, so just listen to what I say." Miyagi moved closer, touching my ear. Her fingertips gently brushed the earring, then withdrew. I can't figure out what she's thinking, but there’s nothing I can do but follow her lead. Resistance would be pointless. As I slowly lie down, Miyagi climbs onto the bed, straddling me around my abdomen. Her fingers once again graze my earring, her face nearing my neck. Then, she bites down. Despite her recent refusal to even let me initiate a kiss, here Miyagi was, biting down without hesitation, and my heart started racing. The warmth emanating from her makes me feel a strange mixture of happiness and pain. Not biting my ear was probably a small concession on Miyagi’s part, but with her teeth so powerfully clamped on my neck, the pain was intense, the heat palpable, almost causing me to forget to breathe. I clutch at her shoulders, finding slight relief from the pain of her teeth sinking into my skin. "Miyagi, didn't you say we weren't going to do anything?" All I really wanted was a kiss, not to get bitten. It was over in a flash and likely wouldn't leave a mark, but it caught me off guard. "I never said we wouldn't do anything, and even if I did, considering what we usually do, this is nothing." "Aren't you being a bit too careless?" "Just learning from you, Sendai-san. She said lightly, then leaned in again. Her lips touch beneath my collarbone—pressing down, sucking hard. They detach momentarily, shift slightly, then apply pressure and suck again. The lips move downward from below my collarbone to the upper part of my chest, lingering briefly before moving to a new area. The process is repeated again and again. Miyagi’s lips deliver small pinpricks of pain, like sugar cubes. Their edges jab against me, the sharp pain melding with her warmth, dissolving into my bloodstream and circulating through my body. The sensation her lips leave behind remains sweet, painful, yet strangely addictive. In this strange situation, my sense of what’s normal begins to slip. As her lips descend toward my ribcage, pressing and sucking before her teeth graze the skin, my body instinctively jerks. Her bite is firm enough to hit bone. I clutch the sheets tightly as her lips withdraw, and I feel only pain, piercing into my brain instead of the sweet warmth. Her lips relocate, indulging me with various kinds of discomfort—sucking and biting along the way. The heat transferring from Miyagi sears my skin, my senses. My breath comes shallow, so I breathe deep to anchor myself, avoiding drifting towards the urge to pull Miyagi in, undress her, and steal away her warmth. I sense no ulterior motive in Miyagi’s actions beyond marking me with her touch. It feels like she's executing a task, as if adhering to a set order void of emotional baggage. The red marks multiply, consuming me and imprinting Miyagi into my skin. "Miyagi," I call as she leaves another mark near my stomach, but she does not respond. She seems so intent on what she's doing, as if it were necessary, marking my body with her lips before withdrawing. It's fine; she can mark me, but if it goes on too long, that's an issue. "What’s your purpose for doing this?" I tug lightly at her hair and ask, causing her to lift her head. "I just want to leave marks." "But they'll fade soon enough." "I know, but I still want to leave them." "Why?" I ask, perplexed. Miyagi frowns, lightly touching her plumeria earring while staring at me. "...So you don't forget to contact me if you’re going to be late, like we agreed. With this many marks, you won’t forget, right?" After speaking, Miyagi moved her fingers from the earring to one of the marks under my collarbone. "Didn't you say your earrings were a reminder for that? That's why you got them, right?" "Sendai-san, I don’t want you promising by the earrings if you’re going to keep breaking them for your job shifts. Don’t make promises on the earrings that you have no intention of keeping," Miyagi replied in her most displeased tone of the day. "What about my ears then? I’ve given them to you. We could make more promises than just sharing a whole cake together." "Your ears alone are not enough. Not only your ears, but all of you belongs to me, and I’ll place my promise marks wherever I like." All of me belongs to her. These words slam against my chest, and my heart races at a pace I can't control. I try to lean in closer to see Miyagi's face, but her teeth press firmly against my collarbone, keeping me pinned to the bed. "If you break our promise again, I’ll mark you like this all over again." Miyagi strokes my collarbone, her fingers sliding slowly. I fully realize that those fingers are tracing the contours of the marks she made. One by one, her fingers glide over the red marks, identifying each one. Despite her clinical touch, it's impossible not to react. Miyagi isn’t intending to stir up my emotions, but her touch sends ripples through me. Miyagi's voice—the one that claimed, "All of you belongs to me"—lingers in my mind, even more powerful than the touch of her lips, stirring something deep inside me. "Miyagi." I call her as she inspects the marks on my chest. She doesn't reply, but the waves in my chest only grow stronger. "Hey, Miyagi. Stop already." My breathing turns shallow again. The word "lust" surfaces in my mind. The murky feelings bubbling up inside me could be called that—something simmering hot and uncontrolled, rising from deep within. These feelings are dangerous, eroding my reason like candy dissolving in water, filling me with the urge to reach out and touch Miyagi. Right now, my desires are reckless and insincere. They don't match with Miyagi's intentions, and I know I should suppress them, but I want her to feel the same way. "Please, just stop." I grab Miyagi’s hand that was tracing over the marks. If this continues, I'll end up wanting her to touch not just where she marked, but everywhere. "I don’t like you telling me to stop, Sendai-san. You’ve always done what I say, so follow my lead today too, and just stay still." Miyagi bites my shoulder, her teeth sinking into my skin. The sharp pain makes me let go. Her fingers confirm the mark above my chest. They lightly brush over it, and slide along to the next. Despite being treated like a medical examination, my body responds to each touch of Miyagi’s fingers. This is bad, I think. My breathing grows erratic. Even with Miyagi's innocent intentions, it’s becoming unbearable. Though I understand she's tracing the marks, my body longs for even more, unable to confine its unchaste desires. Her fingertips brushed over the bulge, and I could feel her gaze burning into me. Yet, Miyagi avoided touching the very place I wanted her to touch the most. Though I didn’t want to be aware, my nerves gathered at the center of my chest, visibly reacting even to Miyagi’s eyes. I wished she would turn off the lights. The state of my chest reflected in Miyagi's gaze seemed to clearly convey my desire for her touch. I didn't want to be seen. If Miyagi and I wanted the same thing, it would be fine. But in the midst of this disparity, it felt unfair for my feelings to be laid bare while hers remained unknown. I grasped Miyagi's hand again. "Don't move," she said in a dissatisfied tone. "It's dangerous if this continues. This is enough, right?" "No. Let go." Her words were firm, so I release her hand. My reason was steadily melting away, and her fingers gliding over my skin felt too good. If she would only touch the red marks, then I wanted her to make more marks. No. I shouldn’t think like that. But even as I tell myself no, my body moves forward unguided. I couldn't stop it nor refrain from waiting for her fingers to touch beyond those marks. “Miyagi,” I called out, my voice barely a whisper. Her fingers skim over the place I wanted her to touch, and then her lips were on my chest, leaving another mark. Each small mark extended its roots, drawing Miyagi’s heat and breath deep within me. Despite being just a bruise, a mark no different from an injury, they transformed me, making me think of nothing else but her. They're not like the piercings that stay on forever. It's because the marks would disappear that I want Miyagi. I want Miyagi to make it so that they don't disappear. “Miyagi…” I embrace her head. This is no good. I want her to touch me properly. “Let go, Sendai-san.” “Why?” “Because I’m going to stop now.” Saying this, Miyagi forcibly distanced herself and lifted her head. “That’s not fair,” I protested, tugging her closer by the hem of her clothes. I press my lips to her neck and run my tongue across her skin. I knew she had no intention of things going this way, but it felt unjust for her to touch me as she pleased and then decide when it was over. “Don’t, Sendai-san,” Miyagi said, gently pushing against my forehead. Subdued by her firm voice, I reluctantly withdrew my lips, and she sits upright. “Sorry.” I didn’t truly think I needed to apologize, but I wanted her to let me touch her more, so I did. I tug at her clothes and rise slightly. As I leaned in for a kiss, her voice came out annoyingly displeased. “If you want a kiss, say it properly, instead of apologizing.” Miyagi said, pushing my shoulder with an unabashedly displeased expression. “I want to kiss you, Miyagi. Please let me.” I had hoped she would be the one asking me for it, yet here I was, seeking it from her. How did it come to this? As I pondered, there was nothing else I could do. Gently brushing her lips with my fingertips, I murmured, “Shiori,” calling her name. Our eyes met, and when I asked, “Is it okay?” Miyagi quietly closed her eyes. I moved in closer so she wouldn’t escape, lightly meeting her lips. The warmth, the softness, felt so good. Just as when she had marked my body, I pulled back ever so slightly, then kissed her again. I repeatedly kissed her over and over, as if making up for lost time. I nibbled her lips like biting into a peach, causing Miyagi to push against my shoulder. “Not enough. Shiori, kiss me.” Mimicking what she had done in the past, I tugged at her clothes, and she stroked my cheek. When I closed my eyes, our lips met. However, the kiss was brief, and then her small voice reached me. “...Hazuki,” The grip on her clothes loosened. “Eh? Just now—” An auditory hallucination. No, it wasn’t. At the moment our lips parted, a voice so faint it could have gone unnoticed, but I certainly heard it. The heat simmering deep within me surged and then faded. One more time. I wanted to hear it one more time. “Shiori—” Before I could finish, a blanket enveloped my head, and everything went dark. I tried to pull the blanket off, but Miyagi caught me with it and held me close. “Sendai-san.” She said, reverting to the familiar way she called me. “I know I’m selfish.” Holding me along with the blanket, Miyagi continued speaking in a quiet voice. “But you started a new job without telling me...” From the world beyond the blanket barrier, her voice seeped in, as if it might disappear into the confines of the bedding, so I listened intently making sure not to miss a word. “You show up in my dreams out of nowhere, doing weird things and then ignoring me, even when you know what I want, and everything just feels out of sync.” Weird things? Although muffled by the blanket, I hadn’t misheard. Miyagi had indeed said “weird things.” I knew she had dreams, but not that they involved strange occurrences. Could it be... “...It’s frustrating. Take responsibility, Sendai-san, and do something about it.” Before I could properly digest her words, there was a gentle thud on the blanket, and I called out “Shiori.” When she responded, “Miyagi,” it came back clear from the other side, correcting me. “—Miyagi. What should I do?” “I don’t know.” “Tell me. I’ll do something if I can.” “I don’t really know... I just don’t like an empty house.” Miyagi mumbled softly as the hand restraining the blanket loosened. I peered out to look at her. “There might be times I’m a little late, but I’ll always come back. You’re not alone, Miyagi.” I assured her as I would a small child and pressed a kiss to her lips. But, she didn’t call me Hazuki again. Miyagi observed me silently, then got off the bed. As she picked up my clothes and placed them on the bed, she turned her back. “Put those on,” she said in a subdued voice. I didn’t feel like remaining unclothed, so I dressed myself as she’d instructed. Although earlier she had watched me undress so intently, now she wouldn’t even glance my way. That, too, displeased me. I wished she would look, even just a little. Feeling irritated by my own fickleness, I announced, “I’m dressed,” only to receive a curt reply to return to my room. “And the penalty game?” “It’s over.” With that, Miyagi took my hand and led me out of the room. Standing in the shared space, just before the door shut, I called out to her. “Miyagi. If you dislike being home alone, come visit the café tomorrow. Utsunomiya can join you too.” Despite knowing she likely wouldn’t come, I had to say it. “...I’ll think about it.” The door inched closed, and I yanked on Miyagi’s clothes. “I want to kiss you one more time.” I didn’t hear a refusal. As I drew near, Miyagi closed her eyes, and so, I gently kissed her again.