297 Sendai-san Isn't Nearby - Story About Buying My Classmate Once A Week

Sendai-san Isn't Nearby Chapter 297 "Miyagi-san, is that enough food for you?" As expected, Asakura-san, sitting across from me, asked this as she eyed my emptied small dish. It had contained udon, a "light" meal compared to my usual lunch. It's understandable she'd question if it was sufficient. "It is. Actually, I'm quite full." I responded while gazing at Asakura-san's chicken cutlet set meal. "Dieting?" She quipped before taking a big bite of her meal. "No, no." I waved my hand side-to-side, dismissing her misconception. "Still getting over a cold?" Maika from the seat diagonally in front of me paused eating her omelet rice to look at me intently. Even amidst the lively lunchtime clatter of the cafeteria, her voice carried a tone of concern that made me feel guilty. The reason I chose a small udon for lunch isn’t because of what Maika worries about. It's for a much sillier reason. "I'm fine. Just ate too much for breakfast." I shared the truthful answer with both of them. The cold I caught recently passed quickly. I'm healthy enough to enjoy instant noodles at night again. However, shortly after recovering, I ended up with another fever and became a concern to the ever-anxious Sendai-san, who took it upon herself to care for me—something that became quite a persistent issue, continuing even now when I'm healthy. Specifically, at every meal, I'm served what Sendai-san considers "nutritious" food. This morning, she presented an enormous breakfast of stir-fried vegetables and egg soup—a quantity that could hardly be considered a breakfast, leading me to eat too much. As a result, by lunchtime, I wasn’t very hungry, managing only a small udon. "If you have an appetite, that’s good. But it's rare for Shiori to catch a cold." "I let my guard down." "Let your guard down? Wasn’t it because you fell asleep with your phone and no blanket?" Maika chided, taking a bite of her omelet rice. "I just drifted off." "That sort of thing leads to catching colds. Which is exactly what happened." I nodded in agreement to Asakura-san's remarks. There's no need to mention that I was browsing places to see penguins or that I didn't dry my hair properly. The cause of the cold is insignificant, and Sendai-san doesn't know the specifics either. "But still, Shiori, it's a relief you have Sendai-san when you’re sick." Maika’s voice reached me from diagonally in front, and Asakura-san concurred, saying, "Being alone when you're ill is unpleasant." Being with someone is better than being alone. Especially if you're sick and feverish. Their opinions are valid, although if I were alone, I probably wouldn’t have caught the cold or been bedridden in the first place. I might have gone through it without recognizing I was unwell, never bothering to take my temperature. "Maybe I'll have Sendai-san come over if I get sick." Maika suggested casually, adding she'd probably make something delicious. That statement is undeniable. Sendai-san prepared meals I could enjoy even with a diminished appetite while I was sick. Maika is stating a fact. But it doesn’t sit well with me. "In such situations, wouldn't you usually call me?" Unlike in high school, Sendai-san is now among Maika's friends, but it’s not Sendai-san’s role to take care of Maika if she falls ill. That’s supposed to be me. Plus, Maika isn’t aware, but Sendai-san is mine—not someone I’d lend out to others. "You don't seem useful, Shiori." "I'm very useful, actually." "Will you cook for me then?" "If it’s something simple." Sendai-san heading to Maika’s house to cook exclusively for her is out of the question. Sendai-san should only be taking care of me, not Maika. All the delicious meals should be just for me, even if breakfast is so filling that I can't eat lunch. "What about porridge?" Maika suggested something that Sendai-san might manage but seemed beyond me. "I’d bring instant." "That’s just no good." Maika's critique doesn’t bother me, because instant porridge is likely tastier than anything I’d make. Besides, you can’t underestimate instant food. Many are far tastier than things made slowly. "I might also bring instant. I've never made porridge. Can Utsunomiya-san?" Prompted, Maika instantly replied "Impossible," eliciting a laugh from Asakura-san as predicted. They continued eating, digging into the chicken cutlet set and omelet rice. My thoughts drifted away from the cafeteria, wandering toward Sendai-san, who attends a different university than us. Sendai-san, who made rice stew when I refused porridge, stayed by my side while I was sick. —Even when I was barely conscious. The blurred, hazy memories remain unreachable, no matter how much I try to recall them. As a result, I can’t remember what I might have said to Sendai-san at that time. I have a faint memory of calling out to Hazuki. And there’s a sense I said something more. But the memory stops at “saying something,” leaving the content elusive. It might just have been a dream of talking with Sendai-san in my sleep, except reality hints otherwise—her seemingly good mood suggests I must have said something. I definitely didn’t say I wanted to kiss her. Probably not. It’s not something I think about often, so why would I say it? Yet, if asked what I did say, my memory blurs and fades away. If it pleased her, it likely wasn’t something bad, but that’s still troublesome. Anything that makes Sendai-san happy often complicates things for me and becomes a careless comment. Well, a single comment might be okay. But it might have been two or three things, or possibly more. Sendai-san surely won’t reveal it. And I’m unlikely to remember. It's pointless to dwell on it, yet I can’t help it. But considering the clamor of the cafeteria, it’s no place for serious contemplation. Unlike the vague world through the lens of illness, this busy, clearly defined university world is overly stimulating. Despite being healthy now, such places make me long to return to the quiet home accompanied only by Sendai-san’s soothing voice. "Miyagi-san, wanna join?" Asakura-san called my name amidst her conversation about watching a movie premiering next month with Maika. I responded, "Hmm, I’m not sure," though I did have interest in the movie. Still, there was a promise more important than any movie that I had to honor first. I postponed replying for now, taking sips of my now lukewarm water while nodding along to Maika and Asakura-san's conversation. When my phone buzzed in my bag, I checked it to find a message from Sendai-san: "I'll be having dinner with Mio, so I'll be home a bit late." A sigh almost slipped from my lips. An additional message explaining she was making up for something during Golden Week followed, but I couldn't fathom what needed to be made up for during that time. Post-Golden Week at university is truly unbearable. I wish holidays like Golden Week would vanish entirely. Without them, there wouldn't be the dreaded post-holiday period, nor the need to "make up" for anything during them. While I was mentally cursing the break like this, the two finished their meals. We attended our afternoon lectures, and then I parted ways with Asakura-san, who had errands to run, heading instead to Maika's part-time job venue. I sit alone after ordering an orange juice and fries, selecting a random seat. It's moderately busy and moderately noisy inside. I feel the urge to go home, but there's no point in going back early today. Boring, boring, boring. Just like how I go out with Maika, Sendai-san is simply out with Mio-san today. Yet, for some reason, it feels duller than usual. The proximity I enjoyed with Sendai-san while I was sick makes her current absence even more unbearable. I don't want to acknowledge this reality. Like familiar sights reflected in the window of a well-trodden train, I wanted these everyday moments to blend into the background. Noticing changing signboards or old buildings torn down hits with unexpected clarity, making one constantly notice the new emptiness. Similarly, I'm hyper-aware of Sendai-san's absence. I mindlessly nibble on fries I don't particularly want. The fries, ordered because occupying a table with just a drink felt rude, taste unappealing to my current self. I crave Sendai-san’s cooking. I munch on a fry, washing it down with orange juice. Being alone is dull. With a sigh, my gaze drops. The floor and people's feet come into view. Amongst countless feet moving and people flowing, a pair of vividly colored shoes approach nearby. "Mind if I join you?" I don't know who the voice was directed at, but the restaurant isn't busy enough to require sharing a table. They must be joking with a friend. That's likely the case. Thinking such, I reach for another fry when someone takes a seat across from me. "Hello." A woman, joining without an invitation to share the table, smiles at me. Long black hair. A slightly intimidating aura. Someone I’ve met before and, truthfully, hoped not to meet again. "Alright, Miyagi-chan. Here’s a quiz. Who am I?" "…Noto-san." "Correct. I’m glad you remembered." With those words, Noto-san wore a familiar, friendly smile.