353 - Story About Buying My Classmate Once A Week

**Chapter 353** Left behind in the shared space were just the cake and me. Miyagi wasn't angry, but she had taken the plates and forks and gone ahead to my room. I should have kissed her earrings. Though there is no right or wrong in kissing, the kiss I should have given Miyagi after she asked me to make her birthday enjoyable was a kiss to her earrings. "Well, no matter where I kissed, I would have ended up alone here." I warm up the knife, take the cake out of the fridge, and return to the room where Miyagi is waiting. "Welcome back. Did you reflect?" Miyagi, seated upright on the floor, greets me. "I'm back. I reflected deeply on my actions," I reply cheerfully, only to meet with a skeptical gaze. "I've turned over a new leaf," I add, placing the cake in the center of the table. "Miyagi, you open the box." "I don't mind opening it, but put the knife down." "I warmed it up, though." "Then, could you put it back in the kitchen first?" Following Miyagi's instructions, I place the freshly acquired knife back in the kitchen. Upon returning to the room, the cake is already taken out of the box. "Oh." I forget to sit down, staring intently at the cake. A small, dazzling white cream strawberry cake. A chocolate message plate with "Happy Birthday" inscribed on it. And then. And then— Candles shaped like the numbers "2" and "0" perched upon the small cake. "I remember you saying last year that you wanted number candles," Miyagi says, avoiding my gaze, lighting the candles. I sit down opposite her. "You remembered. Thank you." Last year, I asked Miyagi if she wanted number candles on her birthday. She said she didn’t, but she has put them on for my birthday. Miyagi remembers my small wishes and makes them come true. I touch the clover necklace, the chain shorter than the moon necklace. As I held it tightly, Miyagi silently turned off the main light and switched on the night lamp. In this half-lit darkness, a small voice whispered, "Happy Birthday." "Thank you." I respond in a voice as small as Miyagi's, and she replies with a voice slightly lower, yet still gentle. "Sendai-san, blow out the candles." "What about singing?" "No singing." Being distinctly told so, I blow at the "2" and "0" that illuminate the cake. The candle flames are extinguished, plunging the room into darkness before the lights come back on. "I’ll go get the knife." With that, I head to the shared space, reheat the knife, and return. I hand the knife to Miyagi without allowing her to object and take my place across from her. "The knife is warmed up, so go ahead and cut it." With a smile, I say this, and Miyagi makes a puzzled face. "Me?" "You, Miyagi." I assertively state it. "…The cake?" comes her questioning reply. "Yes. Since it's my birthday, Miyagi, you cut the cake." "I'll definitely mess it up." "It's fine if you mess it up. It ends up the same in our stomachs, right?" "…True, but—" "Since I’m asking you to cut it, just do it. No need to be precise." I smile and add, "Please," as Miyagi furrows her brows reluctantly. "Don't blame me for how it turns out." Miyagi lifts the 'Happy Birthday' chocolate plate from the white cake and places it on my plate, saying, "It's yours, Sendai-san," then removes the candles and slowly sinks the knife into the center of the cake. The knife draws calmly from the center toward the outside. Miyagi is retracing what I did last year. There were no number candles back then, but the process of cutting the cake hasn't changed. Knowing I exist in her memory makes me happy. My phone is on silent mode and sits idle. No interruptions. I wish this moment could last forever. "It's cut." Miyagi mutters, placing two pieces of cake on my plate and two on hers, adding as if justifying herself. "Because it's your birthday." The meaning of her words is evident just by looking at the cake. Mine is clearly larger. "It looks like I'll gain weight." Although it's a whole cake, it's still small, so even if the cake on the plate is big, it's not like I can't eat it. And it's my important duty to eat every last bit of the cake, so I have no complaints. Still, everything Miyagi does is so cute that I can't help but tease her. "It’s okay to gain a little weight, isn’t it?" Miyagi says irresponsibly with a flat tone. "If I gain weight, you'll join me for walks." "No way." "Stingy." "You can call me stingy, but just eat the cake quickly." "Okay, okay." I say "thank you for the meal" before I crumble the cake with my fork and take a bite. It's delicious. The cream melts on my tongue; it's sweet yet not overpowering, and together with the soft sponge, it passes smoothly into my stomach. Its aftertaste is refined, and naturally, my hand moves to cut the next bite. "Miyagi, it's really delicious. Thank you." "Thank the cake shop." Miyagi replies curtly, continues with "thank you for the meal," places the strawberries on her plate, then digs into the cake with her fork. "Delicious." She murmurs, taking another bite. I also slice a piece with my fork and bring it to my mouth. This day, gently enveloped by the pure white cream, melts into me, turning into memories I won't forget. The more I eat, the more today layers within me like a mille-feuille. One slice of the large cake disappears, and I move on to the next. "Oh, Miyagi." As the soft sponge makes its way to my stomach, I remember what I need to do today. "What?" "We forgot to take pictures." Switching my phone to camera mode, I hear Miyagi’s short retort, "No way." "I wasn’t planning on taking pictures of you, you know." "You just said it." "Come on, just one or two. Listen to the birthday girl's wishes." To mark the occasion of my twentieth birthday, celebrated with Miyagi, I capture her and the cluttered table on my phone before sitting next to her. "I didn't say you could come over." "Just let me take one together." I seize her arm, pulling her close. Switching to the front camera, I hold the phone up. "Okay, taking it now." Without waiting for her answer, I press the shutter, capturing a smiling me and a disgruntled Miyagi in the photo. "Annoying." A low voice echoes. "Come on, just one more. It'll be nice." "I don't want to." "Smile." Even though I ask with a cheerful voice, she doesn't smile, but she does smooth out the crease on her forehead, so I take another shot. Smiling brightly alongside Miyagi, who looks slightly less grumpy in the second photo, I capture the moment before she declares, "That's the last one," and lightly nudges my shoulder. "Stingy." I place my phone on the table and lean against the bed. Placing the tissue-holding platypus on my knees, I look at Miyagi. "Do you remember? We talked about having a drink together on your birthday." When I ask, she responds in a flat voice, "I don’t remember." "That’s a lie." "It’s the truth." "You definitely remember. We promised, didn’t we?" "We didn’t make any promises," she retorts. "So you do remember." When her birthday comes, Miyagi will also be turning twenty. That’s why I suggested as a celebration, we should have a drink together. Of course, we hadn’t actually promised. That’s why I want to make it a promise. If things continue like this, I won’t get to know how she is when she drinks. Her birthday will pass, and there’ll be opportunities for her to drink without me knowing what she’s like. That thought alone is too terrifying. "If you remember, then promise me." I whisper into Miyagi’s ear, "Don’t forget, we’re having drinks together on your birthday," planting a kiss on her earring and then one on her neck. Placing the platypus back on the floor, I gently bite her neck. After another kiss, I run my tongue lightly over her skin, and Miyagi gently pushes my shoulder away. "Not doing that today." "Why not?" "Because of this." Miyagi says in a hushed voice, pulling a box I’ve never seen before from under my bed. "Here." She presses the box into my hands with a small voice. "What is this? Why was it under the bed?" "I placed it there when I set down dinner." "I see." "Never mind the details, just open it." Following her instructions, I carefully remove the wrapping paper and gently open the box. "...A gift?" Inside the box are two mugs. One features a calico cat, and the other a lounging black cat. "It’s not really a gift. Just take it." "But I’ve already got a birthday present." Miyagi had already given me a delightful birthday gift—the promise of going to a festival together. "I just felt like giving you this. I didn’t say it was a birthday gift." "I see. Thank you." Though we have mugs in this house already, none are cat-themed or gifts from Miyagi. They are still usable, but alongside the cat chopstick rests from last year, using any mug but these cat mugs seems unthinkable. "From tomorrow, I’ll be using these mugs. Which one do you want, Miyagi?" "They’re both yours, Sendai-san." "I can’t use them both alone. Please use one, Miyagi." "...Which cat do you like, Sendai-san?" "Hmm, the black cat, I guess." "Then I’ll take the calico." "Got it." The dishes in this house were bought after we moved in, so they have their charm, but nothing holds more affection for me than something given by Miyagi. Someday, I hope all the things we use are chosen by Miyagi. If everything around me could be enveloped by her, I’m sure I’d be even happier. "Miyagi, you’re unfair." I gently close the box containing the mugs, glancing sideways. "I’m not unfair." "You are." I’d been entertaining the idea of spending the night with Miyagi, but thanks to the mugs, it turned into something even better. That makes Miyagi truly unfair. But it’s that very nature of hers that makes me want to be with her. I squeeze Miyagi’s hand tightly.