285 - Story About Buying My Classmate Once A Week

Chapter 285 I held no particular grudge against hamburgers, yet a growing resentment began to take shape. Miyagi hadn't returned home yet. This was the root cause of the negative emotions hamburgers seemed to elicit—essentially, it was a form of misplaced anger. If I were to delve deeper into these feelings, I would reach Miyagi's friend. Utsunomiya Maika sells hamburgers. To be precise, she's working part-time at a fast-food restaurant, and Miyagi had contacted me to say she would return home after stopping by that restaurant. With my smartphone in hand, I wandered from my room to the shared space and settled into the chair that Miyagi usually occupies. Pictures taken during the school festival, snapshots from the zoo, and even photos taken in this very house. My smartphone was filled with Miyagi; looking at her photos never bored me. Although I was disgruntled by her absence, it was tolerable. Deep down, I craved the presence of the real Miyagi, not just the ones on my phone's screen, but there's nothing I could do about her absence. I heaved a deep sigh. Although I hadn't expected to meet Miyagi immediately upon returning from university, hearing that she'd taken a detour was displeasing. More so because her destination was Utsunomiya's workplace. There was no message saying she'd be having dinner outside. Yet, Miyagi was probably going to eat hamburg steak. To be precise, it would be the hamburgers Utsunomiya sells at her part-time job. While anything that sandwiches a patty between buns is called a hamburger, the ground meat patties closely resemble hamburg steak, so it seemed fair to lump them into the same category. I found myself brooding over such trivial matters, indicative of just how irksome I found Miyagi's detour, and the urge to vent my frustration on hamburgers manifested. I knew it was a pointless act, though. "What should I do about dinner?" I wasn't particularly hungry, but it was already a reasonable time to start preparing dinner. Still, the idea of cooking seemed bothersome. No matter how much effort I put into preparing a dish, without Miyagi, it wouldn't taste good. If everything tasted bland regardless, resorting to cup ramen seemed a viable option. It struck me that I was becoming more like Miyagi, but cup ramen was quick, left no mess, and was perfect for when I was lacking motivation. "Wait, do we have any left?" I recalled seeing Miyagi indulge in cup ramen the other day after coming home from work. I couldn't remember if that was the last one or not. With my memory unclear, I set my smartphone aside and checked the pantry. "There's nothing." I sighed again and sat back down in Miyagi's chair. If only Miyagi had been home, such a mundane issue as a lack of cup ramen wouldn't have disheartened me this much. It was genuinely frustrating. It was fine if I returned late from work, but it was unacceptable for Miyagi to be late from visiting her friend's workplace. I couldn't help but be disillusioned by these selfish emotions, yet ever since I met Miyagi, such emotions have been continuously taking hold. They've definitely been growing larger, becoming something that can't be easily managed. After what happened with my family, I lost the impulse to cling to others or take a keen interest in them, but Miyagi existed in a separate sphere. Although I had many friends in high school, it was all superficial, with only memories of interacting with them behind a pasted smile. Despite entering university and meeting Mio, who might become akin to 'Utsunomiya to Miyagi' for me, that was all it felt like. Though I thought it was fine to get closer, I couldn’t muster feelings deep enough to strengthen such bonds. The hassle attached to Mio’s ‘social connections’ outweighed any potential benefits. Miyagi is the only one who is special; the only one I need. Nonetheless, if I intended to continue living with Miyagi in this house, I needed to persist with university. If I were to stop attending, my parents would stop assisting financially. If I wished to continue living together beyond that, I’d need a job and money to maintain this space, and thus, it was necessary to keep a certain level of interaction with others. It's all such a hassle. Yet, even if it's a hassle, I can't discard everything except Miyagi. Plus, eating is essential for living. Though it's truly a hassle, it's best to have dinner. Perhaps I should have Miyagi pick something up on her way home. Though her face often bore a perpetually sour expression, she would at least oblige if I asked her to get something. Grabbing my phone from the table, I sent a message saying, "It's a hassle to cook for just one person, so please get something for dinner on your way back." A reply came back quickly. "What about my meal?" "Aren’t you going to have a hamburger there?" Returning a question with a question, I received no reply. Not knowing what exactly had gone wrong, only that something had, left me contemplating whether to send another message until, unexpectedly, I received a call from Miyagi. "I never said I was having a hamburger." A displeased low voice emitted from the phone. "Didn't you go to Utsunomiya's workplace?" "Why would you assume I'd eat a hamburger just because I went to Maika's?" "Wait, doesn't Utsunomiya sell hamburgers?" "Does Sendai-san eat hamburgers every time she goes to a place that sells them?" The conversation wasn't aligning. We were merely answering each question with another, leading us onto parallel paths without any convergence. Despite recognizing this, I returned a question answering a question. "Are you going to eat at home?" "Yes. Also, I’ve already arrived." "Eh?" Abruptly, the call ended, and I heard the sound of the front door opening. Miyagi appeared soon after. "I'm home." "Welcome back." Calling to Miyagi, who had returned sooner than anticipated, she briskly walked over to me. "… Sendai-san, you're in my seat." "Oh, sorry." Attempting to stand with my smartphone in hand, Miyagi stepped on my foot, preventing me from getting up. Though the pressure wasn't enough to fracture bones, her irate expression betrayed a noticeable force pressing my foot into the floor. "Miyagi, could you move your foot?" "What’s for dinner?" Miyagi asked, her foot still planted on mine. "I was thinking about making something. Is omelet rice okay?" "… It’s not hamburg steak?" "Did you want hamburg steak?" "Omelet rice is fine. Lately, I think I’ve had too much hamburg steak anyway." With a face expressing neither disappointment nor joy, Miyagi released my foot and settled into the chair opposite me that I usually occupy. "Sendai-san, you're not particularly fond of hamburg steak, are you? Why were you making so much of it recently?" Because it's important to Miyagi. That important thing was something I had once been asked to make, tying into my own memories as well. However, any reason I articulate about liking what Miyagi likes tends to sour her mood. The reason for making hamburg steak probably stems from something similar. If I didn’t want to further darken her mood, I shouldn't mention it. Nonetheless, that means I need to come up with a different reason. "If I suddenly get a craving and have to go out to buy the ingredients, it's a hassle. So, I thought maybe if I kept making hamburg steak frequently, you'd stop suddenly asking for it." It's not the best reason, but I can't think of anything more suitable. I anticipate she might have something to say. However, Miyagi doesn't delve further into why I've been making hamburg steak so often, and instead, she quietly mutters. "It makes you gain weight. Actually, I've gained weight. Too much hamburg steak." "Shall we exercise together, then?" "Do you exercise, Sendai-san?" "I do. Because, you know, gaining weight." "Sendai-san gains weight, too?" There's a note of surprise in Miyagi's voice. "Of course. What did you think I was?" "I thought you naturally just stayed that way without doing anything." "It's not like I do nothing. I do at least walk a train station's distance." I can't quite grasp what Miyagi means by "that way," but it's not as if I don't gain any excess weight. "I see." Miyagi's response is perfunctory, and the conversation is momentarily paused. Despite having asked, "Shall we exercise together?" Miyagi doesn't respond. Nor does she urge me to hurry up and make dinner, or suggest we cook together. A silence settles between us. Though it's not an uncomfortable silence, Miyagi’s gaze fixed on me prompts me to call out, "Miyagi." "What?" I hadn't formulated anything particular to say; I simply wanted to call out her name. Unsure of what to say, "Mio, you know-" escapes my lips unbidden. "I don't want to hear about that." Miyagi's voice is utterly devoid of warmth. "Why not?" "Because, you'll just say something like 'Mio wants to visit during the holidays,' right?" "Close, but no. She suggested we hang out together outside during the holidays." Having let Mio’s name slip, I relay what she had asked me to mention earlier today. "I want to do that even less. You can go by yourself, Sendai-san." I expected her to say that. Even so, I find comfort in the predictability of her response. But for her next words, I hope for something unexpected. "I'm not going either. How about we spend the break just the two of us, somewhere special?" No Mio, no Utsunomiya. Just me and Miyagi. That's what I want. I gaze at Miyagi, who is seated in my usual chair, on the opposite side of the table.