276 - Story About Buying My Classmate Once A Week

Chapter 276 I'm used to being alone. But being alone is boring. Food doesn't taste good, and because it doesn't taste good, I can't bring myself to cook anything decent. I exhale quietly, all by myself in the shared space. Instant curry and cup ramen. I've already cooked rice, but dealing with the dishes after eating curry is a hassle. "Cup ramen will do," I decide. I pull out a cup ramen from the stash I bought with Sendai-san and place it on the table. Then, I heat up water in the electric kettle we bought together. After university, Maika and Asakura-san disappeared to their part-time jobs. Even when I return home, Sendai-san isn’t here and won’t be back for a while. The time I have now is the same as it was when I was in high school, and I'm quite familiar with how to spend such time. Reading books, playing games. If I feel like it, I could even study. There’s a fair amount you can do alone. In fact, until recently, I was spending my time like that. I take barley tea out of the refrigerator and pour it into a glass. After taking a sip and placing it on the table, I prepare chopsticks and a black cat chopstick rest. I wish I didn’t get hungry. Cup ramen isn't what I want. This feeling strongly reminds me of Sendai-san, emphasizing how essential she is to me. It's no good. I clench my hands tightly and then open them. I drink half of the barley tea. Thinking about her in an empty house like this makes my head ache. Something I never used to care about, like meals, is now becoming something I can't ignore. The kettle finishes boiling, so I peel off the shrink wrap from the cup ramen and lift half the lid. I pour the hot water into the cup, set the kitchen timer, and sit down. Sendai-san, who should be sitting across from me, will be late because of her tutoring job, so something usually unseen becomes visible. It’s not that I particularly want to talk to her, but being alone makes the three-minute wait seem longer. I stroke my growing nails. Pull on my index finger. Try pulling the middle finger. I press my fingers tightly and let out a breath. I drop my gaze to the black cat chopstick rest. When I think about how the calico cat that’s always here isn’t, I feel lonely. The kitchen timer rings, and I start eating the cup ramen. It doesn't taste good. Meals that merely fill the stomach are dull after all. Before I know it, the cup is left with just soup, and I wash up and return to my room. There’s truly nothing to do when I’m alone. I turn on the light, make a small circuit around my room, and sit on the floor with my back against the bed. I’m so bored that I apply the lip balm Sendai-san chose. It sticks on my fingers when I touch my lips. When I lick my fingertips, it tastes different from Sendai-san. I take a tissue from the back of the crocodile. I intend to wipe my lips but stop. I roll the thin paper in my hand into a ball and toss it towards the trash bin, but it falls short, prompting a sigh. Picking up the unmotivated paper scrap and tossing it into the bin, I grab three manga from the bookshelf. Then, snatching the crocodile that had been inhabiting Sendai-san’s room, I leap onto the bed. I can't spend time alone effectively. I can't seem to make use of my time. All the barley tea I kept in the fridge disappeared easily into my stomach, yet the time alone refuses to vanish. No matter when or where, one hour should be sixty minutes, yet sometimes it becomes thirty or ninety. Today seems to be a ninety-minute-hour day, and Sendai-san is taking her time returning home. I know. I know that an hour doesn't become ninety minutes just because she's not here. Today, like any day, an hour is sixty minutes, and tomorrow will be the same. Nevertheless, waiting for someone makes time drag on. No, it doesn't change for waiting for anyone else. That’s why it’s irritating. Only Sendai-san stretches or shortens my time. I hit the crocodile's head and pull out another tissue. I roll it up and toss it towards the trash, but the white lump doesn’t reach the bin. Just like before, the paper scrap, lacking wings to soar, drops just a bit away from the bed. "Spineless," I mutter. I place the crocodile on my belly and close my eyes. I have no desire to get up to throw away the trash. I roll over. It doesn't really matter that Sendai-san has more tutoring jobs. One more student is no big deal. But thinking there might be even more soon unsettles me. More unseen students, people who will monopolize Sendai-san's time. I can't shake off this feeling of unease when there are more people using Sendai-san’s time, a time that isn’t mine. I cover myself with a blanket and curl up. Time passes while I'm unable even to doze off, and I hear two soft knocks on the door. "Miyagi." Her pleasant voice calls me. But I don’t want to get out from under the covers. "Are you in there?" Of course, I’m in here. I couldn’t possibly be anywhere else. "Miyagi, may I come in?" She says that, but she doesn’t open the door. Sendai-san doesn’t come in unless I say it’s okay. "Did you eat?" She asks from the other side of the door again. Sendai-san, so courteous, keeps speaking to me from the door, making it hard to ignore her. I set the crocodile on the floor, dispose of the fallen trash, and tell her, “Come in,” and the door opens. "I've already eaten." I say as I sit back on the bed, and Sendai-san, naturally, sits next to me. "What did you eat?" "...Cup ramen." "Didn't you say something similar yesterday? You should at least try to cook something, even if it's simple." "It's fine. Cup ramen’s good." "It's not fine. It's bad for you. Eat something a bit more substantial." "I'm alone; it's too much trouble to make something just for myself." "Then wait for me to get back. I'll make something for you." "Sendai-san comes back late and I'll get hungry." I’m not such a terrible person that I’d make Sendai-san, who's working part-time, cook dinner. And a cup ramen fills me up, so I wish she’d just leave me be. Besides, if she's so concerned about my meals, she shouldn’t work a part-time job. "I see." Sendai-san says softly, gazing at me. "Miyagi." She calls me with a gentle voice and smiles. As she extends her hand, I slap it away, which makes her say happily, "You're wearing the lip balm," to which I coldly reply, "So what?" "You're cute." Sendai-san only ever says things I don't want to hear at times like this. Her defiance irritates me, so I grab her clothes and pull her close. I press my lips against hers and bite down gently, careful not to hurt her. "Ouch." When our faces part, she feigns injury. Then, as if it were a rule, she leans in for a second kiss, and I push her away. "I want another one." She whispers, closing the distance between us. "No." "So stingy." As if to reject what I had heard, I kick Sendai-san's leg. What I want to hear from her isn't words like "cute" or lines like those. "...Sunday." I mutter under my breath and kick her leg again. "Sunday?" "You don't have work, right?" Even as I ask, I regret it. "I don't," she replies. I reach out to touch her blue earrings. The regret doesn’t disappear. Even so, I let the words I meant to swallow escape. "...Let's go somewhere together." I murmur, and when I glance at Sendai-san, she looks like she's about to ask, "Where to?" So, I gently press my lips to hers.