378 - Story About Buying My Classmate Once A Week

Heading to Miyagi Chapter 378 "I'm heading out now." I called out to my half-asleep sister as I left the house. I had spent more time there than I had anticipated and was keen not to miss the last train of the night. I hurried toward the station. If anything happens, make sure to contact me. Though I felt that I should add such reassurance for my sister, who lived alone, the words wouldn't come out. The road was cloaked in darkness different from when I had arrived. I stopped and glanced back. Since I became a university student, my sister had reached out, but I could only reply with words more curt than those I exchanged with Miyagi. And today, once again, I hadn't really spoken with my sister. As a result, I had no idea what she was thinking, how she had lived, or why she had invited me into her room today. I looked back at the road leading to my sister's house. Despite being illuminated by street lamps, it seemed unusually dark. The buildings and sidewalks felt foreign to me. I glanced at the key case in my bag. There was no cat there, but I got the odd feeling that the dog belonging to Miyagi let out a small bark, prompting me to look forward. Thinking about what I hadn't done wouldn't solve anything now. I moved briskly to catch the train. Departing from my sister's place, I headed toward the home where Miyagi awaited. I nearly sprinted, eager to return to Miyagi. Breathless, I reached the station and steadied my breathing. I passed through the ticket gate, managing to catch the last train. The train was sparse with passengers. Not wanting to sit, I stood swaying as it traveled. My sister's weary face crossed my mind, and I clutched my skirt. She had been sitting quietly in a room filled with books, with no sign of contacting any friends. Alone in the room, without lying in bed, just sitting there. It reminded me of Miyagi, who would also try to ignore being unwell, refusing to sleep or seek help, robbing me of the option to simply leave medicine and food and head home. Moreover, when I urged her to check her temperature, the thermometer read thirty-nine degrees, making it even harder to leave. In times like these, relying on a friend would be sensible. I had that thought, but if it were me feeling unwell, I wouldn't turn to my friends. My sister, as I knew her, would have made the same choice. I thought she had become someone else entirely, but parts of her remained unchanged, it seemed. There are likely other unchanged aspects, but I don't feel inclined to find out now. It was merely a reunion after a long time for me and my sister. Right now, that's all there is to our relationship. There is no magic that breaks the curses our parents cast in an instant. I know that pumpkins don't become carriages and mice don't turn into horses. But I also know people can change even without magic. It may not happen in two or three hours, but over two or three years, change is possible. Although we can't return to who we were, perhaps we can become new versions of ourselves. The issue is that it requires effort, and the grown-up me isn't inclined to make that effort, even though I understand my sister isn't at fault. Understanding and emotions don't align. —My sister. When we were kids, there wasn't much of a gap between us. What my sister could do, I could eventually manage too. That's why I was always able to follow in her footsteps. We weren't like opposing sun and moon sisters, but more like stars and a moon, similar yet distinct. But being similar doesn't mean we're the same. I only misunderstood, thinking I could do everything she could. As we grew older, the things I couldn't do increased, and I learned that stars and moons are different. Disappointment and despair. Regret and remorse. Every emerging feeling was negative, making me sigh. Not that I wish I hadn't gone. But I can't muster a positive outlook. While swaying in the train, all I can think about is wanting to watch a movie with Miyagi or have more trivial chats. Even while watching my beleaguered sister in that spare room, Miyagi lingered in my mind. I'm heartless and callous. The absence of worry for a sick person disgusts me. Staring unfocused at the door. Opening and closing. Repeatedly, until I alighted from the train ride that felt longer than it was. Outside the station, under streetlights, I walked the sidewalk toward the home I should return to. The midnight city exaggerated every sound. My footsteps echoed loudly, merging into the darkness. Above me, the part of my name that Miyagi had taken, the moon, shone brightly. If it were brighter, I might spot the leaf that’s also a part of me on the sidewalk. But right now, neither the moon nor leaves were visible to me. Focused only ahead, I moved forward. Toward home. Faster, faster. To Miyagi. The four-leaf clover at my chest swayed. For some reason, today home seemed distant. One minute felt like two, two like four. I cut through the midnight thats seemed frozen in time, rhythmically moving my arms and legs. Reaching home, climbing the stairs to the third floor. At the door, I pulled out Miyagi's key case. "I'm here." Talking to the ever-well-behaved dog figurine, I unlocked the door. "I'm back." Locking up, I removed my shoes and headed to the shared space, opening the door. It's bright. The lights are on. But Miyagi isn't here. She shouldn't have left the lights on, but no one's sitting in the chair, and no one’s in the kitchen. I took a couple of steps and paused. "...Huh?" There was a bundle on the floor. Wrapped in a towel blanket, it was unmistakably Miyagi. Probably, undoubtedly collapsed. "Miyagi!?" I couldn't understand why Miyagi lay collapsed in the common area, especially in front of my room. Confused about everything, I rushed over. "Miyagi!" I tossed my bag aside and pulled off the towel blanket. Her eyes stayed closed, refusing to open. I hesitated to shake her awake, stopping my hand. Not knowing why she collapsed, I thought it might be best not to move her carelessly. "Miyagi, Miyagi!" When I lightly patted her cheeks, a small groan escaped her lips, making my heart leap. Relief at her consciousness mixed with panic at how unsteady she was, causing my heart to pound wildly. "Miyagi, are you okay? Do you recognize me?" Though it wasn’t a volume fit for midnight, I asked urgently, and Miyagi’s eyelids twitched. "...Sen... dai-san?" Alongside her hoarse voice, her eyes opened and slowly found their focus on me. "Are you okay? Did you hit your head? Let me know if anything hurts." Questions cluttered in my head, and words jumbled in my mouth. Still, I couldn't remain silent, and I let the words flow out as they came. "My body hurts," Miyagi murmured, prompting me to grasp her shoulders. "Where does it hurt? Should I call an ambulance?" "Ambulance?" "Yes. You’re not well, right?" Otherwise, she wouldn’t be collapsed here like this. I didn't know when she started feeling unwell, but there was a nagging thought that perhaps, even by the time I left the house, she was already in pain, which led her to this state. The thought made my heart pound thunderously. I tightened my grip on her shoulders. "Ouch," she exclaimed, and I asked, "Where does it hurt?" "My shoulder. Let go," she pleaded. She slapped my shoulder-gripping hand, and I quickly released her. "I was just sleeping." Her voice came out dry and crumbly like a slice of stale bread. "Sleeping? Here on the floor? Weren’t you actually collapsed?" "I was really just sleeping, so it's fine," she insisted. Saying that, Miyagi began to sit up. Our eyes met. Miyagi moved her arm towards me, then hastily retreated under the cover of the towel blanket I had removed. Feeling somewhat concerned, I grabbed her arm. With a gentle tug, her hand emerged from the blanket, releasing the key case that fell to the floor. "Welcome back," her disgruntled voice reached me before I could speak, reminding me of the words I hadn’t yet shared with her — the important ones. "I'm back, Miyagi. Sorry for being late." Tenderly. I reached out and touched the plumeria earrings adorning Miyagi's ears.