331 What Sendai-san Needs - Story About Buying My Classmate Once A Week

What Sendai-san Needs Chapter 331 A few hours in a day isn’t long. Working three times a week, considering a week has seven days, doesn’t feel excessive. When thinking in terms of months, it’s even more insignificant, and when framed in a year, the time spent working part-time is just a sliver. Thus, this should just be a brief task that will end in no time. —Yet, for some reason, it feels immensely overwhelming. My first part-time job, on my first day. In the kitchen, the "senpai" at this job work with a friendly demeanor. There aren't any intimidating individuals. Everyone is kind, yet I feel an urge to escape. I don’t particularly love washing dishes, but it's something I've done normally before and is quite manageable. However, when considering it as work, merely washing dishes starts to feel incredibly challenging. This café is where Sendai-san used to work part-time, and Mio-san introduced me to it. The atmosphere of the shop and the people working here aren’t bad. The manager, who explained the job and conducted my interview, is kind and thorough, making it seem like an ideal place for a first-time part-timer. But I don't belong. Although I'm wearing the same uniform and have been accepted as a new employee, my body doesn’t seem to fit the uniform, nor does it fit the place. I know it’s merely my imagination, but it feels like the uniform, which indicates my belonging, is rejecting me and so is this place. And today, almost in a training-like fashion with just the simple task of washing dishes, I’m so nervous my hands won’t move right. The sponge for washing dishes feels as hard as stone, and it seems like the dishes have a will of their own, about to slip from my hands. I’m afraid I might mess up everything I do. I really admire people who can act confidently in such "first time" settings. —For instance, like Sendai-san. I finish washing the remaining plates, dry my hands, and press just below my collarbone over my café uniform. There’s nothing under my hand. But this morning, marking Sendai-san here, I left a trace of myself on her. I wanted to leave a mark where it would be visible for a long time. But I didn’t. Sendai-san said I could mark her where it would be visible, but if Mio-san saw it at university, I would be peppered with questions during work, which would be bothersome, and it would make buying the necklace pointless. A sign that, without reproach, shows that Sendai-san belongs to me. The necklace I am to buy will become such an item. I made the mark so faint that it would be gone by tomorrow morning, also to prevent myself from running away from my part-time job. I want to buy the necklace with my own money, not someone else's, so I want to avoid doing anything that would make me want to quit the job. If I didn't make a mark that could be easily erased, I'd end up wanting to leave the role of claiming Sendai-san as mine to a mere mark. It’s going to be alright. The mark is important, but right now there's something else that takes priority. I can do my best because I have a goal: to buy a necklace that anyone can see and know that Sendai-san is mine. I can handle working. It’s nothing difficult. Even Maika does it, and Asakura-san as well. “Shiori-chan, are you alright?” Mio-san’s voice, which should have been in the hall, catches my ear, and I glance up. Mio-san, whose smile I only remember being like an excessively bright light, now appears genuinely concerned, compelling me to hurriedly say, “I’m okay.” I add, “...probably,” quietly. “No need to push yourself. Let me know if anything’s troubling you.” Setting down the dishes in her hands, she says kindly. More compassionate than I imagined, she’s been looking after me ever since I started today. It seems she brought these dishes over to check on me out of concern. “I’m fine for now.” “I see, that’s good. In a while, you’ll have a meal break, so hang in there till then.” “Thanks. I’ll do my best.” I smile cheerfully, which seems to reassure her as she returns to the hall. I take the next batch of dirty dishes and wash them with the sponge. Since this café has meal breaks as Mio-san mentioned, I won’t be able to have dinner with Sendai-san today. There have been days like that before, so it’s not something to lament about, yet it feels inexplicably dull. Not everything can go as planned. Though I understand, missing out on dinner with Sendai-san makes me feel depressed. —It's no good. Thinking constantly about Sendai-san feels like being trapped in a maze with no exit, making me somber. I wash and set aside a dirty dish. I pick up the next dish, quietly murmuring in my heart, it’s okay. Washing dishes, making drinks, preparing simple meals. There’s a variety of tasks to do, but I’ve been told I don’t have to handle complicated ones until I get the hang of things, so today, washing dishes remains my main task. However, unlike the café during the cultural festival, here, I am rewarded with money. I want to quickly grasp the work and do it properly. Therefore, I should focus on what needs to be done here and now. The kitchen is filled with sounds. The sizzling of ingredients and people's voices fill my head, driving thoughts of Sendai-san away. The café is busier than I imagined, leaving no time for daydreaming about Sendai-san. As I move my hands and work diligently to learn new things, time flies by, and my meal break was over before I realized it. Before I know it, I'm walking the path home. Everything related to this job was new to me, including taking the train at unusual hours, which drained me significantly. My footsteps on the path illuminated by the streetlights are heavy, yet they feel surprisingly swift. Home comes into view sooner than expected. I dash up the stairs to the third floor. As soon as I open the door, I find Sendai-san's shoes waiting. Inhale, exhale. After taking a breath, I head to the shared space, where I find Sendai-san lifting her head from the table. “Miyagi, you’re late.” A rare displeased voice greets me. “I told you I’d be late.” “It’s still late.” Having said that, Sendai-san stands up from her chair and takes my hand. “Welcome back.” Upon hearing her low voice, I respond with “I’m home,” and the shared space falls silent. “Sendai-san, what’s with this?” I awkwardly ask despite the discomfort, but there’s no answer. Without a word, Sendai-san pulls my hand, bringing her face closer. It doesn’t take long to understand what that means, and I lightly kick her leg. “We did it this morning.” The kiss came after I left a mark. Rather, Sendai-san initiated it without me even saying it was okay. "There isn't a rule that says you can't do it at night if you did it in the morning." "There's no rule saying you can do it at night just because you did it in the morning either. More importantly, Sendai-san, have you eaten?" "I was planning to eat after you got back, so I've been waiting." "I told you this morning I wouldn’t eat dinner. You know that café has staff meals, right?" "I know, but I waited." "Even if you say you waited, I’m already full and don’t need dinner." "It's fine if you don’t eat, Miyagi. Just sit there and watch me eat." Sendai-san says this as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She hasn’t been in a good mood since morning. Even now, she doesn’t seem particularly cheerful. Yet she stands here in front of me, refusing to go anywhere else. She doesn’t let go of my hand. Holding it tightly, she stares at me intently. "...You're an idiot, Sendai-san." I quietly inform her, to which she responds in an absurdly serious voice, "Because of you, Miyagi."