245 The Things Sendai-san Likes - Story About Buying My Classmate Once A Week

The Things Sendai-san Likes Chapter 245 Penguins are always adorable. Unsurprisingly, today is no exception; they are irresistibly cute. I find myself wanting to watch the penguins waddling around the small, castle-like structures or swimming in the pool forever. Yet, Sendai-san doesn't seem to share my enthusiasm for the penguins. It's strange. Absolutely strange. There is something wrong with her. "Sendai-san, forget about the humans and take pictures of the penguins." I cast a disapproving glance at her smartphone, buzzing noisily. The zoo is not a place for taking pictures of me. "I'm taking pictures of the penguins too." "Not 'too,' 'only' the penguins." "Miyagi, you're so stingy." With those words, she takes a photo. Naturally, her smartphone is pointed at me instead of the penguins, and I realize I've been captured on her device. Removing my gloves, I pull out my phone from my pocket and aim it at Sendai-san, who only seems to take pictures of me. As I tap the shutter button, she agrees to be part of the day's captured moment, as the shutter sound accompanies her being saved onto my device. "Miyagi, if you're going to take pictures, at least give me a heads up." "If I did, you'd make a good face, and I don't want that." "Why not take a picture of me making a nice face?" "There's no need to force it." "Come on, the last picture didn't even capture my face properly. If you're going to take a photo, do it right." Sendai-san gives a charming smile, as if to signal, "Okay, go ahead and take the picture." So, I raise my phone and take a photo of the penguins instead of her. "That's where you're supposed to take a picture of me, not the penguins." As she expresses discontent, I capture her non-smiling face in a shot. "I'd rather you capture me smiling." "...I'm more interested in capturing you without a forced smile." Today, her smile is on my mind. Even though we're at the zoo, I feel compelled to complain about the smiles she constructs. "Why? Isn't it better to have pictures showing you're having fun?" "I think being normal is fine." "Isn't it normal to want to be captured smiling when you're having fun?" Her logic is sound, and I know her creating a smile is to capture a joyful moment. Still, I find myself wanting to criticize the contrived smiles because I'm not sure if they truly reflect her happiness. Today's Sendai-san reminds me of her appearance at school. It's a feeling that resonates. Back in high school, Sendai-san was always friendly with everyone. She wore a joyous expression as if school life was the best when she was next to Ibaraki-san. But after school, she showed me a side of her she didn't reveal at school. Today, I want the real Sendai-san, not the one she pretends to be. "So, let me take a picture of you looking like you're having fun, Miyagi." With a cheerful voice, she once again points her phone at me. While I don't know what's so amusing, she seems intent on capturing me rather than the animals. At least, she appears to be having fun. If that sentiment is genuine, that's fine, but if it's not, I'd rather she not smile. If she finds the zoo dull, she should show it on her face. "I told you earlier, take pictures of the penguins, not me." While I want Sendai-san to look at nothing but me, today's an exception. We're at the zoo, after all, so she should admire the animals. I'm also not accustomed to being photographed by someone with a presence as striking as hers. The photographer should be me, the subject should be Sendai-san. She's far more photogenic than I am, so anyone would think swapping roles makes more sense. Yet, she continues to prefer photographing over being photographed. I dislike it. The phone she aims at me, the shutter sound it makes. Even so, today I let her take my picture. Since she came to the zoo with me, despite not seeming interested in animals, I decide to allow it. "Miyagi, I'll take a picture with you and the penguins, so smile." It's a tall order. I think a slight smile might be acceptable, but it doesn't come easily. She moves a little further away and calls my name, "Miyagi." Resignedly, I glance at her through the phone and let out a small sigh instead of a smile, and the shutter clicks. "Sendai-san, did you manage to get the penguins in the shot too?" Before she can ask me to smile again, I inquire, and she returns to my side. "I did. How about we take a photo together now?" "Together?" "I'll try to include the penguins. Also, I'll take lots of Shoebill photos for you, Miyagi. So, shall we take one together?" I survey our surroundings. The zoo, though not as crowded as an aquarium in summer, has a substantial number of people. Many are snapping photos, either with family or friends, or those who seem to be couples, and numerous pairs are taking selfies, shoulders touching. But I'm reluctant to simply agree. A photo of just me and a photo of the two of us are different. "You've already taken lots of pictures." "Not with you, Miyagi." I focus on the blue earring dangling from her ear. A sign that she's mine. It's not a collar, but it does serve to signify she's under my control. With that earring as a marker, she resembles a well-groomed Borzoi and, like a dog waiting for its master's command, her gaze is fixed solely on me. It's an admirable attitude befitting the blue earring, but today, I'm not seeking a compliant Sendai-san. "Fine, take it." Swallowing the many words I want to say, I move to her side. When our shoulders touch, Sendai-san lifts her phone's front camera and captures a picture of the two of us. "We got the penguins in too. Shall we head to the shoebills next?" "Let's go." She flashes a smile as radiant as the sun and strides off. Unable to move, I clutch my blue scarf. As I watch her walk away, she calls back to me, "Miyagi." "Are you tired?" Turning around, she approaches me with a soft voice, having returned the steps she'd taken ahead. "I'm fine." I give a quiet reply and release my grip on the scarf, taking a step forward. Right, left, right. As I move languidly, Sendai-san walks beside me. She remains as kind as ever. Sendai-san yields almost everything to me, save for our part-time job discussions, accepting my words. Today as well, she's visiting the areas I want to see at my pace. It's expected that she does so because she belongs to me, yet if she were opposed, she could refuse. If she finds animals uninteresting, she could say so, and we needn't have come to the zoo. Despite that, she chooses to comply, prioritizing me. I consider myself terribly selfish, but today it bothers me. I'm dissatisfied and anxious about the fact that Sendai-san is constantly considering my feelings. I've been concerned about this even before we came here. "Miyagi, look at the shoebill!" Sendai-san points ahead. Following her finger, I spot the long-legged, big-beaked bird. I quickly make my way to the barrier separating us from the shoebill, raising my phone towards the bird that looks like it had a rough night's sleep. "...It's moving more than I thought." I snap a picture and murmur. I had the impression that shoebills were motionless creatures, but here it is, walking slowly and occasionally catching fish in the pond. It's surprising. "It's livelier than I expected." Her thoughts echo mine, and I nod with a simple "Yeah." I take another picture. Despite not being the most graceful of animals, the shoebill is charming, whether it's moving or standing still. "Sendai-san." "What is it?" "Are you really looking at the shoebill?" I tuck my phone back into my coat pocket and shift my gaze from the large bird to the person next to me. "I am," she replies, then points her phone at me. Click. The familiar sound plays again, and I give her shoulder a tap. "You're photographing a human again. The target is the shoebill." "Okay, okay." Her response couldn't be more dismissive as she starts taking pictures of the shoebill with her phone. Her compliance, though casual, strikes me once more as resembling that of a loyal dog. "Miyagi, are you having fun?" Still facing the shoebill, Sendai-san poses the question. "Yeah." I need to shift my mindset. I should be enjoying the shoebill in front of me, not merely in images or videos. Today's Sendai-san is her usual self, and there's nothing worth worrying about. It's best to dismiss it as just another typical day with her. So, I pull out my phone from my pocket and focus it on the shoebill, not Sendai-san.