389 Everyday Life with Sendai-san - Story About Buying My Classmate Once A Week

Everyday Life with Sendai-san Chapter 389 I hadn't lied. The words I spoke were genuine and heartfelt. That didn't mean, however, that I could be happy with the outcome. I suppress the sigh trying to escape me and call out to Sendai-san. "Good morning." "Good morning, Miyagi." I move to stand beside her as she's frying something in a frying pan. "I'll help." "It's just these scrambled eggs left, so you can sit, Miyagi." "There's something I can do, right?" "Then, can you handle the bread? It's almost done." Sendai-san speaks in her usual tone. But there's something undeniably different about her today. "Got it." I stand in front of the toaster and, instead of looking at the bread, I watch Sendai-san. She's wearing an apron as she prepares breakfast in the shared space. Maika and Mio-san picked out the apron, so it's only natural for Sendai-san to wear it. The Sendai-san standing here now is the result of what I said yesterday. So, her wearing the apron should be something to be happy about. Yet, my mind wants to reject the sight before my eyes. I don't intend to deny what I said yesterday. I believed in what I said—that the apron should be used—and I told Sendai-san to do so. There's nothing wrong with that. Even now, I think it's a good thing that she's wearing it. But I'm not happy about it. The disparity between 'good' and 'happy' is trying to press in on me from both sides, crushing me. "Miyagi, the bread's done." Called by Sendai-san, I look at the toaster. The timer has hit zero, and the toast is perfectly browned. I prepare a plate and place the toast on it. Arranging orange juice and setting it on the table as well, scrambled eggs and salad soon join the ensemble. In no time, breakfast is ready. Just as I move to sit, Sendai-san tugs at my arm. "Miyagi, does it suit me?" She doesn't say what it was, but I know she's referring to the apron. —I don't want to say it. My own Sendai-san is adorned in something selected by someone other than me. It's a reality I find hard to accept. But I have to take responsibility for my words. "...I think it suits you." The words that my unwillingness to accept held back spill forth, and Sendai-san smiles brightly. "Oh, good. I'd love to see you wearing the apron too, Miyagi." "But breakfast is already ready." "We still have some time, no need to rush. I want to see you in the apron too, Miyagi." Still smiling, Sendai-san hands me the apron that was draped over the back of the chair. Yesterday, I told Sendai-san that I would "use" the apron. If it had been a gift with no meaning, I might have tucked it away in the closet, but it was a birthday present. While my birthday is just another ordinary day to me, it's different for others. It holds a certain significance, and not using what's gifted on such a day isn't an option. I take the apron from Sendai-san and put it on, even though I'm not cooking. "Cute." Even though I hadn't asked for it, Sendai-san comments, adding "It suits you," as if on cue. Not knowing what to do, I mutter "Alright, that's enough," and move to remove the apron, but she holds onto my arm. "I'll take it off for you." "No, I'll do it myself." "Come on, just leave it to me." With a cheerful demeanor, Sendai-san unties the apron strings in the front. Before I know it, she's removed the apron, and I step on her foot. "I said I'll do it myself." "Oh, come on, Miyagi, do mine." Ignoring my protests, Sendai-san guides my hand to her apron strings, urging me to untie them. My hands free Sendai-san from the apron that makes her not quite herself, making her truly mine again. I grasp her clothing, drawing her close, my lips nearing her neck before I pull away. I can't. If I touch her now, I'd want to leave a mark that will never fade. "What's next?" Asked quietly, I hang Sendai-san's apron on the back of the chair. "We're eating breakfast." "Breakfast can wait a bit. Let's continue." Her voice wasn't bright, but neither was it as dreary as a cloudy sky—and with that voice, Sendai-san’s lips drew closer. I try to push her shoulder away, but she grabs my hand. Without a chance to close my eyes, her lips lightly press against mine, then pull away. Then, immediately, she attaches them again. Unlike the first kiss, the tip of her tongue brushes my lips. I step on Sendai-san's foot, and with her hand still holding mine, I press against her stomach. "You're stingy, Miyagi." "I'm not stingy. The food will get cold, let's eat quickly." "Okay, okay." Despite her words, Sendai-san doesn't move from in front of me. Her hand reaches for my neck, her fingertips tracing and then pausing. "The mark's gone, huh?" In a flat voice, she remarks as she lets her hand drop. Yesterday, she left a mark without asking. But it was faint, disappearing by the time I woke up. Sendai-san lacks resolve. She's always been that way. Yet that's not something I dislike about her. "What about yours, Sendai-san?" "It's gone." I grab her hand, inspecting her wrist. Sure enough, the mark I left has vanished. —I should have left a mark earlier. Such thoughts cross my mind, but I quickly dismiss them. Today we have university. While her wrists are hard to see, they're not completely hidden, so I think it's better if there aren't any marks. Leaving a mark on her neck is even more out of the question. With Sendai-san's four-leaf clover, there's no need for marks. Yet my fingers press hard on where the mark once was. "Even if you wear the apron or it suits you, Sendai-san, you belong to me alone." As I release my fingers, her skin turns white then quickly returns to normal. I bring my lips closer, pressing them gently together. I run the tip of my tongue along her, then lightly graze her with my teeth. On the verge of leaving a mark that would last, I pull away at once. "Let's eat." Seeing Sendai-san wearing the apron in the morning makes me want to do unnecessary things. I think it's best to return to our usual day quickly. "Alright, let's eat before it goes cold." Sendai-san squeezes my hand tightly, then releases it and sits down. I take a seat too, directing my gaze to the calico cat chopstick rest. The table remains the same as always. Raising my eyes, I meet Sendai-san's gaze. "Let's eat." Our voices united, we spread butter and jam on our bread. Taking a bite of the cooling scrambled eggs, I chew on the bread. "Miyagi, you remember our promise, right?" As if speaking of the most mundane thing, Sendai-san brings salad to her mouth. "Promise?" "About going somewhere." "That wasn't a promise." Yesterday, Sendai-san had invited me, "Let's go somewhere together." But that's all. I asked where we were going but didn't agree to go together. "So you’re not going?" From across the table, a slightly lower voice chimes in. I take a sip of orange juice from the calico cat mug before responding, "I didn’t say that." "So, does that mean you'll go?" "Sendai-san, shut up. Just eat quietly, please." I flick the calico cat on the mug with my fingertip. Anywhere you want to go with me. You decide, Miyagi. That’s what she said, making it difficult to turn the discussion about going somewhere into a "promise." It's more comfortable for me to stay at home than go out, and I’m clueless about places that Sendai-san would genuinely want to go. I could suggest an aquarium or a zoo, but if those were where she wanted to go, she wouldn’t ask me to choose a destination. So, perhaps, choosing somewhere different is wiser. "Miyagi, at least chat with me for a little while." Her voice is light as she nudges my foot beneath the table. Truly, Sendai-san can be such a pain "I’ll let you know once I've decided where to go, so just stay quiet." I have no doubt that, if it’s somewhere I’ve chosen, Sendai-san would enjoy it, regardless of the place. That’s why I can’t pick a place lightly. "Got it. I’m looking forward to it," she says with a cheerful tone, then takes a bite of her bread.