357 - Story About Buying My Classmate Once A Week

### Chapter 357 "Ah, geez—!" —If only I had said yesterday that I wouldn’t wear it. Because I postponed my response, it became difficult to refuse. I lay back on my bed. I'm going to the festival. I have no intention of breaking that promise. However, I never agreed to wear a yukata. Lately, I've made a lot of effort to respect Sendai-san’s wishes. That’s why I don’t think I need to compromise today. There’s no need to waver. Absolutely not. I pick up my phone and watch the video on how to wear a yukata, which I’ve watched several times since yesterday. It doesn’t look fun. And I also don’t think the yukata I saw yesterday would suit me. Wear it, don’t wear it, wear it. I set my phone down, stand up with determination, and leave my room. I’ve already had lunch, and it’s about time I give my answer. After circling the kitchen and dining area once, I stand in front of Sendai-san’s door. After glaring at it, I knock once, and when I hear her say "Come in," I enter the room. "Have you decided?" Sendai-san stands in front of the bed and speaks with a soft voice. Behind her, I can see the same yukata laid out just like yesterday. Her expression suggests it’s already decided that I’ll agree to wear it, and I furrow my brow. Sendai-san always does things that aren’t interesting at all. I walk up to her and firmly stomp my foot down. "...The wisteria-colored one is better." I choose one of the yukatas that I saw yesterday, and lies at the same spot today. "You’re going to wear a yukata?" "It’s aggravating when you’re like this, Sendai-san. If it’s okay not to wear it, I won’t." "I want you to wear it. I bought this yukata because I think it’ll suit you, Miyagi." Sendai-san directs her gaze toward the beautifully blossoming wisteria-colored yukata. "So, was this other one meant for you, Sendai-san?" I look at the white, pastel-colored yukata that I didn’t choose. Like the wisteria one, it has beautiful flowers, but they’re not the same; different flowers are in bloom. "I bought that one because I thought it would suit you too, Miyagi." She says this as if it’s obvious, and I look at her. “…Which yukata are you going to wear, Sendai-san?" "I'll wear the one you didn’t pick. As long as I can wear a yukata with you, Miyagi, that's all that matters. I’m already prepared for dressing, so get undressed. I’ll help you put it on." Sendai-san has been in a good mood since morning, and she still seems cheerful. She’s smiling, completely excited about today’s festival. I’m not pretending to do this for her, but since today’s festival is part of her birthday gift, I suppose I can let a few things slide. However, the phrase "get undressed" is something I can't overlook. I nudge her ankle with my foot that I used to stomp. "There’s a hadagi and a shitajime, right? Lend me those." I researched it online yesterday. Hadagi and shitajime are the undergarments you wear with a kimono, and it's okay to wear them over your regular underwear. Also, they’re simple enough for me to put on by myself. So, even if Sendai-san helps with the yukata, there's no need to undress here and now. Everything should be after putting them on. “Why? I’ll help you put on the hadagi and shitajime too.” Sendai-san says cheerfully. "I can put those on myself. I researched it properly." "...Isn't that sneaky?" I hear a dissatisfied voice and reply, "It's not sneaky. I can do it myself, so lend them to me," prompting Sendai-san, with a reluctant expression, to pull out a bag containing a white set from under the yukata. "Here, it’s a combined hadagi and shitajime." I take what she handed me with a "thanks." "I’m going to put this on—wait here." "Put it on here. I’ll wait outside the room." With that, Sendai-san tries to leave the room, and I call her back. “One condition, Sendai-san." "What is it?" "I’ll wear the yukata, but no touching my hair or doing any makeup." “You’re really stingy, Miyagi.” She responds with an exaggerated sigh but doesn’t say anything about touching my hair or doing makeup. Sendai-san just says, "Let me know when you’ve changed," and leaves the room. I stare hard at the yukata on the bed. With a deep sigh, I take off my T-shirt and denim pants. I put on the slip-like combined hadagi and shitajime that were prepared, and exhale deeply once more. As protection for my body, they feel inadequate. As I think about having to call Sendai-san in now, I feel gloomy and want to flee. However, everything needed, like the obi and towels, is perfectly lined up on the bed, giving off an atmosphere where escape is impossible. “Sendai-san, you’re such an idiot.” I mutter quietly. I wasn’t planning on wearing a yukata, but having had it bought specifically for me with the comment "I chose it for Miyagi," despite agonizing over it all night, has led to this situation. Even so, regret is useless, and even if I did anything, it’s already too late, so reluctantly, I call out to Sendai-san waiting outside the room. “I’m dressed.” Though not loud, she enters immediately. Picking up the yukata, she smiles gently, saying, "Miyagi, put your arms through the sleeves." Following her instructions, Sendai-san comes in front of me and aligns the back seam of the yukata down the middle of my body, just as in the videos I've been watching since yesterday. “Sendai-san, have you ever dressed anyone else in a yukata?” “No, but there’s no need to worry. I’ve worn one before, a long time ago.” "A long time ago?" "When I got along well with my sister." Sendai-san speaks nonchalantly and adds, “Let’s decide the length,” but the mention of her sister piques my interest. "...Did you dress yourself?" Since she brought it up herself, it’s likely a past she wants me to know about, one I probably don’t have to be hesitant to ask about. However, I feel like it’s not something you pry open quickly, but rather you should gently and politely unfold. "I wanted to try dressing myself, so I did it alone. Though I couldn't do it well, so my sister helped me. But today, I’ve watched a lot of videos, so it’ll be fine.” Her voice isn't completely devoid of emotion, but it's not rich enough to convey feelings either. Sendai-san wears an expression that seems resigned to the fact that any scattered memories unearthed might be cast away without regret, and I quietly suggest, “You should do it while watching a video.” "That might be a good idea, so I'll watch while doing it," she says as she plays the dressing video on her phone. She determines the length and ties the koshi-himo. With Sendai-san unusually close, my heart starts to pound. She adjusts the extra fabric turned over at the waist—the "ohashori." A hand slips inside the yukata in a strange way, causing me to tense up. Touching my body, or pressing her lips against me. If it’s Sendai-san, it wouldn’t be unusual for her to take advantage of this closeness to try something, but she only mutters to herself as she neatly adjusts the ohashori. “Are you okay?” I gently inquire, and Sendai-san responds, "I'm fine. I’ll tie the chest cord next." Soon, a new cord is brought out and wrapped around beneath my chest. Despite occasionally glancing at her smartphone, Sendai-san handles the task with surprising skill. It doesn’t seem like it's her first time dressing someone in a yukata. Still, I’m starting to get fed up. Sendai-san is too close, touching me here and there, making me uneasy. I breathe in and out. I nudge her foot and pull her hair now and then. As I distract myself with trivial actions to push away the fluffy, restless feeling, the obi is tied and Sendai-san’s satisfied voice reaches my ears, saying, “Done.” “Miyagi, take a look.” With a cheerful note in her voice, she shows me the mirror. And before I can say anything, she exclaims, “You look so cute!” I want to retort that I’m not cute. But I swallow the words and glare at Sendai-san instead. “The obi feels weird.” “Does it hurt?” “It’s not painful, just bothersome.” “Well, you can’t go without an obi, so endure it. You’ll get used to it soon.” Sendai-san smiles warmly and continues speaking. “Wait in your room, Miyagi. I’ll put on my yukata now.” “No, I’ll stay and watch.” “I don’t think it’ll be interesting to watch though.” “I’ll decide if it’s interesting or not.” I stare intently at Sendai-san. I wouldn't feel at ease just idling in my room with this yukata on. Keeping busy with something will distract me. And since I’m in Sendai-san’s room, watching her is the best option. “If you keep watching like that, it makes it hard to undress, you know.” “You mentioned getting undressed yesterday.” “That was yesterday.” “Yesterday and today are the same, so just get on with it.” “You’re such a pervert, Miyagi.” Sendai-san sighs and removes the oversized T-shirt she’d been wearing since morning. Her pale blue underwear comes into view. That elegant lace suits Sendai-san perfectly. Sendai-san glances at me. Our eyes meet, and she turns away with an embarrassed look. Her stomach swells and contracts slightly with her breathing rhythm, making me want to touch her there. “You know, you’re the real pervert here, Miyagi.” She grumbles and removes her skirt. The skin that was hidden beneath her clothes is fully exposed, and I draw closer to her. I press my palm below Sendai-san’s collarbone. “…Hazuki.” I whisper softly and graze the four-leaf clover with my fingertips. Sendai-san, nearly bare, is both lustrous and beautiful. Surely, others aside from me have seen Sendai-san like this before. For example, during P.E. class when changing. Or perhaps somewhere during school events. But no matter what happened in the past, Sendai-san belongs only to me. I place my lips on her collarbone and lightly bite. I stroke her side and lick her neck. Sendai-san runs her hand through my hair, embracing me gently. “Miyagi, is it okay if I don’t put on the yukata after all?” Her voice murmurs by my ear, and I escape from her arms. “Do you plan on not going to the festival?” “Of course we’re going. Although staying like this wouldn’t be so bad.” Sendai-san chuckles and begins changing. Following the video tutorial, it doesn’t take overly long before Sendai-san, who was in only her underwear moments ago, transforms into Sendai-san in her yukata. The soft-hued yukata suits her well. It complements her hair, which is brown, lighter than mine. The flowers are different, but because both my yukata and Sendai-san's are adorned with blossoms, they almost appear like matching pieces in different colors. “How is it? Does it look alright?” Sendai-san does a twirl in front of me. “It looks fine.” “Then shall we head out?” “What about your feet?” “What I’ll wear?” “Yes.” “I got matching geta sandals for us.” With that, Sendai-san smiles gently.