Volume 3 Episode 06

Miyagi came to visit me when I was sick.

It was like a bolt from the blue, but that’s all it was. No storm came, no earth-shattering event happened, and I kept getting summoned to her room, going back and forth as usual.

Nothing had changed since before I caught the cold.

Even in November, Miyagi was still by my side.

Amid these days, something unexpected happened.

Even after midterms, Miyagi was studying seriously.

The midterm results she showed me weren’t enough to aim for the same university as me, but they weren’t bad. She shouldn’t fail to get into the university she was aiming for. So I thought she’d ease up on studying, but she kept at it, just as before.

It wasn’t strange for an examinee to study, but Miyagi used to hate putting in more effort than necessary. Seeing her study beyond maintaining her current level was odd.

I bit into a potato chip from the convenience store.

'Are you changing your first-choice university?'

When I asked earlier today, she coldly said she wasn’t.

I took another chip from the bag on the table.

“Miyagi, open your mouth.”

I didn’t know why she was studying more than needed, but I held a chip out to her as she glared at her textbook with a serious expression.

“I’ll eat it myself.”

A while back, when I brought potato chips, she had said the same and eaten them herself. Today, she repeated the action, taking a chip from the bag and putting it in her mouth.

“Eat this one.”

“No thanks.”

She instantly rejected my offer, making an openly annoyed face.

If I forced her mouth open and shoved a chip in, she’d definitely get mad.

Miyagi was cold to me when I wasn’t sick.

If I had a cold or fever today, she’d probably be kinder. I remembered being pretty selfish when I was sick, and she hadn’t gotten truly mad. Even if it was only because I was sick, knowing she could be kind to me felt significant. And I wanted her to be kind to me even when I wasn’t sick.

“It’s not okay. I’ll feed you, so open your mouth.”

I brought the chip to her mouth, but it stayed closed.

Miyagi, like a stray cat that disliked people, never did what I wanted. She ran if I got close and bit if I reached out. Usually, it just hurt.

But when I was sick, even that Miyagi, on a whim, had thought to do something for me. It was just that day, but seeing her like that made me hopeful.

“Miyagi.”

I pressed the thin potato slice to her lips, and she opened her mouth with a deeply reluctant look.

It was rare, I thought, as I slipped the chip between her slightly parted lips. It disappeared from my fingers, and she grimaced as though she’d eaten something unpleasant.

It was worth bringing the chips. At the same time, I wished she’d look happier eating, but my dissatisfaction faded because she ate from my hand. I wasn’t taming her, but it made me want to give her more. If I kept feeding her chips, maybe she’d want to see me even after graduation, like she was craving food.

I picked up another chip and brought it to her mouth.

“Here you go.”

She didn’t say she wanted to keep going, but her expression looked like it had a sign saying so. She glared at me and reluctantly opened her mouth.

As I brought the chip closer, it disappeared with a crisp sound.

When I pressed my finger to her lips, her brow furrowed.

She didn’t exactly look welcoming, but I traced her lips with my fingertip. Then, like eating the chip, she bit my finger.

It was within expectations but hurt a lot.

The last time I was here, I had touched her lips and gotten bitten too. Yet today, I went out of my way to bring chips to do this. The reason was simple: I hadn’t kissed Miyagi since I was sick. Since then, she had clearly rejected anything that might lead to a kiss, like this.

“Miyagi, that hurts.”

My plea to stop didn’t reach her. Her teeth dug deeper into my finger.

“Then lick it instead.”

I touched her tongue with my bitten finger, and it was freed from her teeth.

“You won’t lick it?”

“I won’t.”

She said curtly, dropping her gaze to her notebook. She added to an unfinished problem and flipped through her textbook.

If I fed her chips, she’d eat my finger too.

If I said it hurt, she bit harder.

If I said lick, she stopped biting.

She wouldn’t listen to me.

She did the opposite of what I wanted.

Her reactions were predictable.

But I didn’t know why she kept avoiding kisses.

Since summer break ended, we’d had some restraint, but that was in the past. We kissed at school and in this house. There was no reason to refuse now, but she wouldn’t accept me.

I didn’t know why she was so adamant about avoiding kisses, and she probably wouldn’t tell me if I asked. If I pushed, she’d likely order me to stop asking questions. Miyagi was always unfair.

I didn’t desperately want to kiss her, but I didn’t not want to. Yet she wouldn’t let me kiss her while ordering me to show the pendant, make me unbutton my third button, or touch my chest as she pleased. Of course, if I said I wanted to touch her, she wouldn’t let me. The trade-offs had vanished somewhere.

Miyagi shouldn’t have been kind to me just because I was sick. She shouldn’t have accepted that kiss. She hadn’t resisted like usual that day, so I kept hoping even now.

“Miyagi.”

I poked her shoulder to make her face me.

“What? I’m studying.”

I slid my finger into her annoyed mouth.

“Lick it.”

She bit my finger.

It hurt.

Her teeth gripped harder than before.

I stroked her cheek with my free hand, sliding to the back of her ear.

When I tugged her earlobe, her bite softened, and I pressed my finger to her tongue.

“I said lick, not bite.”

It wasn’t an order.

I had no right to make her obey, so it was just a request. She could bite again or pull my finger out by grabbing my arm. She had that right.

But she did neither and granted my request.

Something warm and wet clung to my fingertip.

Her tongue pressed and slid slowly.

The raw sensation of her mucous membrane sent shivers through me.

It shouldn’t have been that hot, but my fingertip burned like it was on fire. Her body heat made it feel like warmth was pooling inside me.

I slowly pulled my finger out and touched her lips, letting her lick up to the second knuckle of my index finger.

I’d get in trouble if I said it to her, so I kept quiet, but I thought this Miyagi was erotic.

She’d licked my finger before.

But I hadn’t thought it was erotic then, so I knew I was seeing her differently now.

I pressed my fingertip to her lips again, trying to slide it into her mouth, but she roughly grabbed my arm and pulled hard.

“That’s enough.”

Her nails dug through my blazer as she spoke.

“If I say it’s not, will you lick it again?”

“You know you don’t have the right to order me, right?”

“I know.”

I acknowledged her words honestly, and her grip on my arm released. Then, her freed hand pulled two tissues from a box with an alligator cover.

“Wipe it.”

I wipe my finger with the tissue as instructed, crumple it, and toss it into the trash can. The shot lands perfectly, and as if waiting for it, Miyagi speaks.

“Now you lick my finger, Sendai-san. It’s an order.”

Her fingertip presses against my lips, and instead of saying “Okay,” I touch it with my tongue.

Like she did, I slowly slide my tongue up to the second knuckle of her index finger.

Pressing firmly, I feel the hardness of bone.

When I lightly bite, Miyagi tries to pull her hand away, but I grab it. Then I press my lips to the back of her hand.

I wonder how Miyagi sees me right now.

What she’s thinking, what she’s feeling as she looks at me.

I want to peek into her mind.

“Sendai-san, that’s enough,” she says in a curt voice, pulling her hand back.

I tug it and bite her fingertip.

As I take her finger into my mouth, she presses the alligator-covered tissue box against my collarbone.

“Enough already!”

Pushed hard by the alligator, I release her finger.

“I’m okay with continuing.”

I snatch the alligator from her and grab her hand. I try to bring my lips to her finger again, but her hand slips away quickly.

“You don’t need to continue. Stop.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re acting a bit—”

“A bit?"

“Nothing.”

The incomplete sentence trails off without continuation.

“Give me back the alligator.”

I hand her the tissue box with the cover as instructed, and she wipes her finger, returning not the alligator but the crumpled tissue.

“Finish what you were saying. A bit, what?”

I toss the tissue into the trash, but this time the shot misses, and I go to pick it up.

“You’re a pervert, Sendai-san.”

“That’s definitely not what you were going to say.”

I sit back next to her and pat the alligator’s head.

“Hey, Miyagi. Did that feel good?”

“Sendai-san, you’re loud. I’m studying, so be quiet.”

I know.

Miyagi would never admit it felt good. Still, I hoped she might have thought so.

✧✧✧✧✧

Retort hamburgers and instant soup.

The dinner Miyagi, who ate potato chips from my hand, prepared was as effortless as always, and we ate it as usual.

She asks if I’ll eat dinner but never if I’ll stay over. So after eating, I went home.

The words Miyagi says and doesn’t say to me are fixed.

If I had to categorize them, most of what she says is cold. Thanks to that, I’m constantly rejected. But that’s Miyagi, and I was fine with it.

—Until I caught a cold last month.

I stop copying the blackboard and glance at the clock.

Five minutes until lunch break.

I doodle an alligator on my notebook and return my gaze to the blackboard.

It’s been a few days since I last saw Miyagi.

In September, with the lingering summer break vibe, graduation felt far off. October was busy with the cultural festival and midterms, leaving no time to think about what’s left. But in November, graduation suddenly feels close. In terms of days, there’s still a decent amount of time, but winter break is coming, and most of the third term is free attendance. Time’s running out.

Thinking about that, I want to hear the words Miyagi doesn’t say to me.

Catching a cold and learning she can be kind made me greedy.

I draw tissues sprouting from the alligator’s back in my notebook.

The bell rings, and the teacher ends the class. I pack up my textbook and notebook, head to Umina’s desk, and tap her shoulder.

"Umina, I’m going to the school store. Eat without me.”

“Okay, but your lunch?”

“Didn’t bring one today.”

“Got it,” she says lightly, and I reply, “Be right back,” grabbing my wallet. Weaving through the desks to leave the classroom, Umina’s loud voice stops me.

“Hazuki! Grab me a strawberry juice. I’ll pay you later.”

“Mine too,” Mariko’s voice adds.

I raise my hand in acknowledgment. “Okay.”

It’s no big deal, so I agree easily, glance around the classroom, and step into the hall, where I bump into something.

“Whoa!”

Careless inattention, pops into my mind.

I wasn’t rushing, but I wasn’t looking ahead.

“Sorry. You okay?”

I apologize, looking at what I hit, and see a familiar face.

“My bad,” she says.

Utsunomiya Maika.

Her name comes up often from Miyagi, and since she’s always with her, I know her face well. But to Utsunomiya, I’m just a former classmate. We’re not close enough to chat casually, so I say something neutral.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

Utsunomiya answers shortly and starts walking.

I can’t stand around either, so I move toward my destination.

School is simple.

The hallways are straight, with windows on one side and classrooms on the other. Where I’m headed is almost always fixed. During lunch, it’s the bathroom or the school store. And the path Utsunomiya’s taking clearly overlaps with mine.

“Um, I was in your class in second year, Utsunomiya, remember?”

She stops walking silently ahead and suddenly introduces herself.

“Of course I remember.”

I can’t say I hear about her from Miyagi, so I give a safe answer, and we walk together.

Having started the conversation, Utsunomiya falls silent again. She might’ve spoken up because we bumped into each other, have the same destination, and it felt awkward not to say anything, but the silence now feels more noticeable.

I don’t have much to talk about either, so we walk quietly.

Since we’re headed to the same place, I can’t distance myself now.

I’m not good with empty silence.

With Miyagi, silence doesn’t bother me, but with Utsunomiya, it’s unbearable. With a stranger, it’d be fine, but with someone I know, I want to talk. Still, we have few common topics, so my words are predictable.

“Where are you applying for university?”

I throw out a typical examinee topic, and she names a university not far from mine.

“Cool, I’m going out of prefecture too.”

She asks where, I tell her, and I keep the limited conversation going with, “If we get in, we might run into each other there.”

“Well, Shiori—Miyagi Shiori, who was in our class in second year—is applying to the same university as me, so—”

“What?” I interrupt her without thinking.

Miyagi Shiori.

The words attached to a name I know well are unexpected, and my feet stop.

Miyagi’s supposed to apply to a local university.

Why?

“Uh, what?” Utsunomiya looks at me, surprised.

My voice was probably louder than I thought.

“Oh, sorry. Just, Miyagi’s grades must be pretty good, huh?”

It’s rude, but I couldn’t think of anything else to cover the awkward air.

“She’s been studying seriously lately,” Utsunomiya says, looking curious but not suspicious.

She probably mentioned Miyagi just to break the silence. My overreaction surprised her. If I let it go and avoid talking about Miyagi, it’ll stay a casual chat until we reach the store.

I start walking again. After one step, my mouth moves on its own, matching my steps.

“Is Miyagi really applying there?”

“She suddenly brought it up, so I’m not sure if it’s true. But she said she wants to.”

“Huh.”

“…Um, Sendai-san, are you friends with Shiori?”

What had been casual chatter shifts as Utsunomiya’s voice turns cautious, almost probing. Her face is slightly tense, as if she started this conversation just to ask that.

“Why?”

I smile and ask back.

“The vibe when you bumped into Shiori in the hall before. And sometimes when we pass in the corridor, it seems like you’re looking at her. Plus, you called her out once, so I just wondered.”

She’s sharp and observant.

I don’t recall staring at Miyagi, but my eyes naturally follow her when we pass, and sometimes they meet. Even with our promise not to interact at school, we’re deeply involved outside of it, so my body reacts regardless of intent.

“We’re not friends. I called her out before because a teacher told me to.”

I keep smiling and speed up my pace slightly.

“…My mistake, maybe.”

Utsunomiya mutters to herself, then says, “I’m grabbing a juice first,” and heads to the vending machine. Not close enough to go together, I buy a sandwich, then juices for Umina and the others, and return to the classroom, where they’re excitedly talking about their boyfriends.

Lunch with Umina and the others is usually fun. Knowing I won’t hear this meaningless chatter in a few months feels a bit lonely. But today, their conversation goes in one ear and out the other, and I feel neither fun nor loneliness.

I nod vaguely and bite into my sandwich.

I hadn’t heard Miyagi was applying to an out-of-prefecture university.

I’d thought about going to a nearby university if we couldn’t go to the same one, but I didn’t tell her because she’d probably shut it down coldly. Yet somehow, she decided to apply to the same university as Utsunomiya—one not far from mine.

No, it’s not decided yet.

It’s just a possibility.

But seeing Miyagi study seriously even after midterms makes Utsunomiya’s words feel true. If so, the fact that she didn’t tell me means she didn’t want me to know, and her reason for choosing that university isn’t me but something—or someone—else.

I wish her reason for choosing an out-of-prefecture university was me, but it makes more sense that she wants to go to the same one as Utsunomiya.

Yeah, that’s probably it.

It’s obvious.

Miyagi and I aren’t the type to vow to go to the same university or promise to stay friends at nearby ones if that fails. She’s set on our relationship ending at graduation, and she won’t even let me kiss her. She probably doesn’t think about not wanting to part after graduation.

If there’s someone she doesn’t want to part with, it’s Utsunomiya. It’s not strange for her to choose Utsunomiya over me, a mere former classmate who’s not even a friend.

It’s not odd.

But it’s not fun.

Miyagi and Utsunomiya are friends, nothing more. I don’t doubt that.

Miyagi and I aren’t friends, but we’re close in a different way. Still, she chooses Utsunomiya—just a friend. It doesn’t quite make me angry, but my stomach twists.

The sandwich isn’t very tasty.

Miyagi’s food—technically just reheated stuff—is unhealthy but tastes better. My taste buds must be broken.

I swallow the dry bread and sip the milk tea I bought. My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s Miyagi’s usual message.

I want to talk somewhere other than her house.

After a moment’s hesitation, I send her a different message.

“After school, come to the music prep room. I’ll be waiting.”

No reply comes, even after classes end.

I figured she wouldn’t respond, so it’s not surprising.

So, as if it’s natural, I head to the music prep room.

✧✧✧✧✧

Miyagi might come, or she might not.

She came when I called her after the cultural festival, but considering what I did that day, she’s more likely not to.

But if.

If Miyagi comes here.

I want to ask about what Utsunomiya said today.

—It doesn’t feel great.

The stomach pain has faded, but my chest feels murky.

All I can think about is negative, and I can’t feel cheerful. It’s like when I saw my parents favoring my sister. I get fixated on one thing and think only pessimistic thoughts.

This version of me isn’t good.

I’ve lived school life cleverly, holding a decent spot in class and enjoying it moderately. That me feels like it’s disappearing.

I breathe in, out.

I walk quietly in the small music prep room.

Even if I’m not part of Miyagi’s reason for choosing an out-of-prefecture university, she picked one not far from mine.

Whatever her reason, close is better than far.

It’s simpler to think that way.

I don’t actively want to accept it, but I don’t want to be far from Miyagi. Her choosing the same university as Utsunomiya leaves a hazy, unsettling feeling, but finding meaning in “close” is better. If she’s nearby, our relationship shouldn’t end abruptly. Thinking that way, I feel I can forgive some things.

I can’t sort all my feelings neatly anyway.

So, rather than falling into despair, it’s better to choose a somewhat better thought.

It’s not a bad way to handle it.

But there’s a problem.

The Miyagi I know isn’t honest.

Even if I ask about the university, she won’t tell me. And I don’t want to mention Utsunomiya’s name. If I did, she’d probably deny it vehemently, saying, “I just mentioned it, I’m not going.”

Without mentioning Utsunomiya, confirming if today’s story is true seems difficult.

Still, I don’t want to give up.

But if Utsunomiya told Miyagi about our lunch break encounter—

If Miyagi knows I know she’s applying to the same university as Utsunomiya, things could get complicated. She might even tell Utsunomiya she’s sticking to a local university.

No fun thoughts come to mind.

Only problems flash before me.

I stop pacing in the prep room.

Checking the clock, fifteen minutes have passed since I arrived.

“She’s not coming, huh.”

I’ll wait five more minutes.

Mid-November brings winter’s chill, and the music prep room feels cold. It’s not a place to wait long.

Miyagi wouldn’t make me wait thirty or forty minutes. I want to believe that.

I lean against a shelf with instruments.

I look at the entrance.

Closing my eyes slowly and opening them, the door opens quietly.

A skirt, not too short or long, catches my eye.

A furrowed, displeased brow.

No words of apology for being late or keeping me waiting.

Miyagi approaches silently.

Her medium-length hair sways as she stops just in front of me. Then, with an annoyed tone, she speaks.

“What happened to our promise not to talk at school?”

She bumps her bag against my leg.

“If you wanted to keep it, you could’ve. But since you didn’t, doesn’t that mean the promise doesn’t matter?”

“I’m leaving.”

She says it in a voice colder than the room and starts to turn, so I call out to stop her.

“Wait. I called you here for a reason.”

“It’s probably something trivial. Why not just talk at my place?”

Miyagi grumbles but sets her bag on the floor and looks at me.

“So I don’t get ordered around.”

I smile, and she gives me an openly displeased look.

“If you’ve got something to say, spit it out.”

What to say, and how.

I still haven’t sorted my thoughts, and I doubt five more minutes would help.

When it comes to Miyagi, my mind freezes, and I end up asking directly, as always.

“…Where’s your first-choice university?”

“That’s what you called me here for?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve told you plenty of times.”

“You don’t have to apply to just one, right? Are there others you’re considering?”

“Nope.”

The expected answer comes, and I flick an instrument case with my finger.

University talk is one thing Miyagi never shares with me.

I want to press her, but I know she won’t answer.

She never tells me what I want to know.

I have no way to confirm if Utsunomiya’s story is true.

“You should apply to others. With your grades now, you could aim higher. You’ve studied so hard.”

I know it’s futile, but I try to draw out the answer I want.

“Sendai-san, you’re persistent. This conversation’s over.”

“I don’t have to follow your orders here.”

“It’s not an order. If you want to talk, keep going alone. I’ve got nothing to say, and I’m leaving. Come to my place later.”

Miyagi cuts the conversation off.

I knew she’d be curt and cold. I also know pushing further will only make her colder. But my stubborn side doesn’t want to let her leave.

“Don’t you ever want to go to the same university as a friend?”

I want to mention Utsunomiya but swallow her name and lock it in my stomach.

“…What’s that out of nowhere?”

“You know, like wanting to go to the same school as a close friend.”

“Speaking of, you talked to Maika today, right?”

Miyagi doesn’t answer my question. Her brow slightly furrows as she throws one back. From her reaction, I can tell Utsunomiya told her we met. That means I can’t pretend I didn’t hear Utsunomiya’s name and move on.

“I ran into Utsunomiya on the way to the school store.”

“What did you talk about?”

“She just asked about when I called you out before.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah. Did she say something to you?”

“She said the same thing you did.”

“I see.”

It seems Utsunomiya didn’t mention the university talk to Miyagi.

Then I shouldn’t push further.

Ending the conversation would avoid complications.

I know that, but part of me still wants to keep talking.

“You’re done, right? I’m leaving first.”

Miyagi reaches for her bag on the floor, and I reflexively grab her hand.

“What?”

Her annoyed voice hits me.

“Can we talk a bit more?”

“No. We can talk at my place.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

I know.

But I can’t let go.

I grip her hand tightly, closing the gap between us.

Miyagi’s hand is colder than when we held hands while I was sick.

The music prep room is chilly despite us being here together, so her hand’s cold because of that. Mine’s probably cold too. But I didn’t grab her hand to warm it.

“Sendai-san, let go. I’m leaving.”

“Stay like this a bit longer.”

If I let go, I feel like we won’t hold hands again for a while.

Wanting to hold hands—or touch more.

I can’t process those feelings well.

Probably because Miyagi’s always the one touching me.

And because she doesn’t tell me anything.

“Miyagi.”

I call her name and step closer, but she shakes my hand off.

“No kissing. I’m leaving.”

“I didn’t say anything yet.”

Her voice is cold, maybe recalling what I did here before. But I just wanted to touch her more, not kiss.

“You might, so I’m saying it first.”

“That’s wrong. I just wanted to touch you. You’re always touching me.”

“What do you mean ‘always’? I don’t touch you.”

I unbutton the second button of my blouse, which I don’t undo at school, and show her the pendant.

“You’re always touching this.”

The pendant, usually hidden under my blouse, gets touched by Miyagi every time she calls me over. But when I try to touch her there, she stops me with an order.

“That’s touching the necklace, not you.”

“Even so, you’re touching me along with it, so let me touch you. It’s unfair that it’s always just you.”

I step closer and reach for her cheek.

When I press my palm against it, she flinches, probably because it’s cold. I slide my hand to her neck and loosen her tie. But before I can unbutton her blouse, she grabs my arm.

“You’re a pervert, Sendai-san. Stop.”

She says it sharply and lets go.

“Your orders don’t work here.”

“True. I’m only paying for the Sendai-san at my place, not at school.”

“Then behave.”

“But you don’t have the right to do anything to me at school either.”

“You let me kiss you before. If kissing’s fine, touching should be too.”

Mentioning what happened here, Miyagi tightens her tie with a difficult expression and says in an emotionless voice,

“…If you want to touch, do something worth it. You like trade-offs, don’t you?”

“Not really. —What’s the trade-off?”

It’s probably not a good deal. Still, I ask her.