Volume 5 Episode 08

I feel guilty about what I did to Sendai-san.

I’m reflecting on it too.

But I still think it’s strange that she’s wearing a band-aid when almost a week has passed since I bit her finger.

“How long are you going to keep that on?”

I glance at Sendai-san’s finger, then take a bite of the toast she made. The slice spread with butter and jam has an exquisite balance of sweetness and saltiness, and it’s becoming a regular part of my breakfast.

“You mean the band-aid?”

“Yes.”

Back in high school, when Sendai-san said she’d make fried chicken, she asked me to shred the cabbage, and I ended up cutting my finger. At the time, she put a band-aid on my bleeding finger that prioritized practicality and didn’t have a trace of cuteness. The same kind is still wrapped around the finger I bit.

“Hm.”

She lets out a small hum, then takes a sip of her orange juice.

On the night she made hamburg steak for me, I bit her finger without holding back, and it left clear teeth marks. I thought it might scar, but there’s no way it wouldn’t have faded by now.

“The mark’s gone by now, hasn’t it?”

“Who knows.”

She answers in her usual tone, but she doesn’t look at me. Today is one of those occasional days when she avoids meeting my eyes, and that irritates me all over again. Then I start feeling low over the fact that I’m getting irritated by something so trivial.

“Take off that band-aid.”

I really want to grab her hand and peel off the band-aid wrapped around her finger, but instead I bite into my toast and hold myself back.

Just because she doesn’t get seriously angry doesn’t mean I can do whatever I want. I know the line between what’s acceptable and what isn’t. Grabbing someone’s hand and forcing something isn’t acceptable.

“I just put it on a little while ago, so it’d be a waste.”

“Are you wearing that as some kind of sarcasm?”

“Sarcasm? Why would you think that?”

Sendai-san sounds genuinely confused.

“You’re angry about the bite, aren’t you?”

My voice comes out sharper than I intend, so I shove some scrambled eggs into my mouth to cover it up. When it’s just Sendai-san and me, things never seem to go smoothly.

I want to be a little more normal, but I can’t.

Since we’ll be living together until I graduate from university, I want to feel as calm with her as I do with Maika. But that never happens. Even though I know it’s wrong, I end up doing awful things to Sendai-san, and sometimes my emotions spiral out of control when I’m with her. I’ve never bitten or kicked anyone else before, but with her, I do.

“That’s just how it is, and I’m not going to get angry about it now.”

“You’re always lying.”

I bit her hard, but I know Sendai-san wouldn’t get angry over something like that. Still, every time I see the band-aid on her finger, I’m reminded of what I did. My chest tightens, and words I don’t need to say slip out anyway.

I shouldn’t have bitten her that hard.

I shouldn’t have told her to quit her part-time job.

Thoughts like that keep surfacing in my mind.

Even when I told her to quit her part-time job, I knew she wouldn’t, and she didn’t. Sendai-san still works as a tutor and sometimes even tells me about her students.

“Miyagi. Stop being in a bad mood first thing in the morning.”

Sendai-san says it in a flat voice and takes another bite of her toast.

I don’t know what standard she uses to decide, but sometimes she listens to me and sometimes she doesn’t.

Piercings aren’t allowed, and part-time jobs aren’t allowed either.

She doesn’t listen even if I tell her not to get them or to quit. To begin with, Sendai-san doesn’t change because of what I say.

“I’m not in a bad mood.”

I say it without inflection.

I state it plainly.

“If you’re not in a bad mood, then what’s wrong?”

There’s nothing wrong with me.

What’s wrong is Sendai-san’s part-time job.

I wish her part-time job weren’t tutoring.

If it were something else, I could accept it.

“I just phrased it poorly, that’s all. Picking at that makes you seem petty.”

I drink half my orange juice to swallow the words I didn’t say and set the glass down on the table.

“Oh, right, Miyagi. You probably know this, but I have work today, so I’ll be late. Eat dinner without me.”

Her unchangeable plans weigh on me.

The tutor gig fills up Sendai-san's calendar and pushes me aside.

Last summer, the word tutor belonged to me.

During the long, endless break of my third year of high school, I spent time alone with Sendai-san, who said she would teach me how to study. It was a tutoring part-time job, and I know there’s no way something like that summer vacation will ever happen again. Yet every time I hear the word tutor that once referred to me, countless things I want to ask Sendai-san rise up inside me.

Does she sit beside the student the way she sat with me?

Does she hold their hand?

She said she doesn’t kiss friends, but does she kiss her students?

[T/N- I certainly hope not.]

Since we became roommates, there are many things I want to know, and some feelings I can’t sort out in my heart. One of them is that we attend different universities, and I’ve tried to accept it as something that can’t be helped. By connecting it to my past or present self, I can imagine how she spends her time at university and fill in the gaps. There was a time when I couldn’t accept a Sendai-san I couldn’t know for long stretches, but now I think I can.

But her tutoring part-time job is different.

It’s tightly bound to my past, and the images that come to mind so easily are hard to endure. I recall the time we spent together during summer vacation or after school, replace the student with myself, and grow irritated at the scenes I imagine, even though I know they’re impossible.

A part-time job is just one small piece of everyday life, nothing I should be concerned about. Even if I cared, I thought I’d be able to accept it once the job began. I was wrong. Whenever I picture Sendai-san tutoring, my mind drifts back to the past.

The girl who said she was a tutor and taught me to study isn’t the same as the Sendai-san who’s working as a tutor now. There’s no way they’re the same. I know that, yet I want to understand how they’re different, and at the same time I don’t want to know. It’s strange.

Even if I ask her, she’ll only give me an ordinary answer. That’s only natural, and I don’t need an extraordinary one.

I understand how foolish it is to compare then and now.

I understand.

But because I care, I can’t calm down.

I want to swallow this feeling the way I swallowed the hamburger steak Sendai-san made, digest it, and make it disappear. I tell myself that, yet it lingers inside me, refusing to fade, leaving me feeling unwell.

"Miyagi. I’m heading out soon."

After finishing her plate, Sendai-san drinks the last of the orange juice in her glass.

"Wait. Take off the bandage before you go."

"Are you still worried about it?"

Truthfully, the bandage doesn’t matter anymore.

I just want some excuse to hold Sendai-san back, but I can’t think of a reason.

"Let me see your finger."

"Even if you look, it’s just a finger."

She says it like it’s a bother and lets out a sigh.

Then she peels off the bandage.

Her slightly swollen finger is pale and clean, without a single wound.

It’s a finger that has no need for a bandage at all.

"There isn’t even a mark."

"Maybe it disappeared while the bandage was on."

She says it casually and rubs her finger. Then, without meeting my eyes, she looks at me and gives a faint smile.

Lately, she’s been directing smiles at me more often.

But that version of Sendai-san isn’t the real one. She overlaps with the Sendai-san who pasted on a smile when we went to see a movie together during summer vacation, calling it "playing friends." That’s why seeing her always smiling unsettles me.

I touch my piercing.

If I could, I’d make her promise to quit the part-time job and seal it with this piercing. But a piercing is only an accessory. It doesn’t have the power to turn a pumpkin into a carriage, or the power of a lamp that releases a genie to grant wishes. It’s nothing more than a placeholder that ties small, everyday promises to Sendai-san. And besides, even if we make a promise, nothing is ever absolute.

"Miyagi, could you clean up afterward?"

"Sure."

"Thanks. I'm heading to university early today."

Sendai-san rises and goes back to her room.

I nibble at my toast.

It's sweet and salty, yet it isn't tasty.

When I come home today, I'll end up eating another unappetizing dinner alone. Just thinking about it makes my stomach ache, and I feel like the entire day won't go well.

✧✧✧✧✧

The long university lectures finally end, and after I return home, I hesitate.

Cup ramen or a retort hamburger.

There's also the option of cooking for myself.

Out of the several choices, I settle on tonight's dinner, take out the retort hamburger, and heat it up. Right now, I'm the only one home, and I'm the only one eating. Going out of my way to cook feels like too much trouble. This morning, Sendai-san said she had a part-time job and would be late, then left the house, but even without being told, I already know which days I'll be eating dinner alone.

The hamburger finishes heating, and I place it on a plate and prepare the rice. For a moment, I think I should've bought a salad or something, but dinner eaten alone won't become enjoyable just because I add one more dish. When you eat with someone, everything tastes good no matter what it is, but when you eat alone, everything tastes only so-so. It's just to satisfy hunger.

I move my chopsticks and push the hamburger and rice into my stomach. Even when I'm with Sendai-san, conversation doesn't really flow, but when I'm alone, not only does it not flow, there's no need to say a single word, so the plate empties quickly. Once I wash the dishes, there's no reason to stay in the shared space, and I return to my room.

I take the black cat from the bookshelf and toss it onto the bed.

Then, as if chasing after it, I dive onto the bed as well.

Today wasn't a fun day, but it wasn't as if things went badly either. Still, my mood isn't very good. Taking a bath feels like a hassle. Changing clothes feels like a hassle. Even looking at the assignments I have to do feels like a hassle, so I pull the black cat closer.

"Meow."

Instead of the stuffed animal, I meow and stroke its head.

The black cat that came as a Christmas present has become something that calms me when it's nearby and distracts me when I stroke its head. When I stare at it, I want to hear it meow, and I think that if it says "nyaa," I'll feel a little brighter.

I place the black cat on my chest and close my eyes. I shouldn't be sleepy, but when I shut out my vision, it's as if fog drifts over my head, and my consciousness begins to fade.

Just for a little while. About thirty minutes.

Setting an alarm on my smartphone feels like too much trouble, so as I sense the room's light through my eyelids, I surrender to sleep. I hear my own breathing, soft and steady, and the black cat tumbles off with a quiet thud. In the darkness that feels faintly bright despite being dark, my consciousness drifts somewhere neither shallow nor deep. As I linger in that half-hearted state, like dreaming but not quite dreaming, a small sound comes from far away.

Knock knock, kon.

Realizing it's a gentle knock at the door, I push myself upright.

"What?"

Forcing out the voice tangled in my throat, I call toward the other side of the door.

"I bought cake. Want to eat together?"

Sendai-san's bright voice reaches me.

"Cake?"

"Yeah, cake. For now, open the door."

Urged on, I leave my room.

As I close the door with a soft click, Sendai-san grabs my arm.

"I bought shortcake, strawberry tart, rare cheesecake, and baked cheesecake. You can have whichever you like."

"Isn't that too much?"

"You can eat about two, right? I'll brew some black tea, so sit down."

Even though I never said I'd eat, Sendai-san tugs on my arm, and before I know it, I'm guided to the table.

She pulls out a chair and smiles pleasantly. When I lower my gaze to the table, there's a white box sitting on it, and I realize she bought the cakes from a proper shop, not a convenience store.

I don't dislike cake, and there's still room in my stomach.

Whether I can eat two is doubtful, but I can definitely manage one.

I obediently sit down and look at Sendai-san.

"...Did something good happen?"

"Do you need something good to happen to buy cake? If you eat something delicious, you get into a good mood. Miyagi, don't you like cake?"

"I do like it."

"Then that's settled. The water's already boiled, so wait a moment."

Saying that, Sendai-san brings over the teapot with tea leaves and the mugs, and pours hot water into the teapot using the electric kettle we bought together. Then she uses her smartphone to time it precisely before pouring the tea into the mugs.

"You can choose whichever you like."

Sendai-san says this as she opens the white box.

When I peek inside, the cakes she mentioned earlier are arranged neatly without any gaps. Whether I can finish them or not, all four are the kind I like enough to eat completely. If I were to choose two, it would be these and these, but I feel awkward choosing first.

"The one who bought them should choose first."

When I hand the choice over to Sendai-san, she brings plates, places the shortcake and rare cheesecake on them, and sets them in front of me. They're both the ones I wanted, so she probably chose them after noticing where my gaze lingered.

"Which ones do you like, Sendai-san?"

"Strawberry tart and baked cheesecake."

She names the remaining two cakes and transfers them to her own plate.

"Which ones do you really like?"

"I bought my favorites, so all four are cakes I like."

As if thinking I might say something troublesome, she answers casually. Then Sendai-san peels off the film covering the baked cheesecake. After saying "Thanks for the meal," she breaks off the apex of the isosceles triangle with her fork and puts the cake into her mouth.

That means it's time to eat the cake in silence, so I also say "Thanks for the meal" and peel off the film on the shortcake. I want to save the strawberry for last, so I place it on the plate first, cut off the apex of the isosceles triangle, and take a bite. The lightly sweet whipped cream melts on my tongue, blends with the fluffy sponge, and slides down into my stomach.

"Is it good?"

Sendai-san, already on her third bite of baked cheesecake, looks at me.

"Yeah. ......Thanks."

I thank her and break off a piece heavy with whipped cream. I put the large forkful into my mouth. The whipped cream slips down my throat so smoothly that it doesn't even feel like I've already had dinner.

Across from me, Sendai-san silently brings the baked cheesecake to her mouth. She doesn't talk about her part-time job. She doesn't ask unexpected questions or bring up topics like what middle school students are thinking these days. She doesn't start any of those dull conversations.

Talking about the part-time job is unpleasant whether we do it or not.

The cake is delicious, yet something indigestible keeps settling deep in my stomach, even deeper than the sweetness.

"Sendai-san, come over here."

I call out and point to the space diagonally in front of me. With a puzzled look, Sendai-san stands up, and I add, "Bring the chair." She makes a scraping sound, drags the chair over to my diagonal front, and sits down quietly.

"Open your mouth."

After saying that, I scoop up some whipped cream with my fingertip. The smooth cream coats my finger, and a cool sensation runs through it.

A faint crease forms between Sendai-san's brows.

She knows that what I'm about to do isn't exactly good.

Even so, when I tell her to open again, she parts her lips without hesitation.

I extend my arm and bring my finger to her mouth.

When I place my fingertip inside her open mouth, her lips close, and her teeth rest against the first joint. Her lukewarm tongue presses against my finger, and the whipped cream dissolves.

Sendai-san does most things when I tell her to.

Even now, though it isn't an order, she opens her mouth and licks my finger.

Watching her follow my words makes me feel relieved. It's different from when I used to give orders, yet I can still believe that some things haven't changed.

I push my finger a little deeper.

As if in resistance, her teeth press more firmly against my finger.

Even so, when I push in further, her tongue winds around my finger. The sensation of her tongue moving over my skin, warmer and firmer than the whipped cream, feels both pleasant and unpleasant. I pull my finger out forcefully and take a tissue from the uncovered box to wipe it clean.

"Why did you lick it?"

When I ask, she answers as if it's only natural to follow my words. "Miyagi told me to lick it, right?"

"I only said to open your mouth."

"That means to lick it, doesn't it?"

She's not wrong, but when she does something I never explicitly said as if it's obvious, it makes me feel like she'd obey whatever words I utter.

Right now, if I told her to quit her part-time job.

The thought nearly slips from my mouth, and I crush the shortcake with my fork. A small bite forms, and I bring it to my lips. It's lightly sweet, airy, and soft, yet the cake sitting in my stomach feels heavy. It's as if the whipped cream and sponge have turned into lead or iron.

"Sendai-san. You said earlier that you'd buy cake even if nothing good happened, but there was actually a reason you bought it, wasn't there?"

I ask, trying to distract myself from the weight in my stomach.

"Because I wanted to eat something delicious."

"Really?"

"......To cheer you up, Miyagi."

Sendai-san replies with a faint sigh mixed into her words, then continues.

"You still don't seem to be in a very good mood, though. What would make you feel better?"

"It's not bad."

"It is bad. I'm not telling you to laugh, but at least try to look like you're enjoying yourself a little."

Sendai-san stays beside me even when I'm in a bad mood or not smiling, and she worries about me like this. So maybe it's alright to look a little happier once in a while. But I don't know how to look like I'm enjoying myself in front of her.

Sendai-san is kind.

But I can't be kind to Sendai-san, and I keep doing things that test her.

"Lick it. Then my mood might improve."

When I extend my finger, this time without whipped cream, toward Sendai-san, she catches my hand and pulls it closer. Just as I said, the tip of her tongue touches my index finger, and she licks it. Something warmer than her hand crawls along my skin, and even though there's nothing there to taste, her tongue moves as if she were licking whipped cream. Moisture spreads toward the base of my finger, and her lips brush against the back of my hand. They part quickly, then press again. The tip of her tongue touches, and she licks up to my wrist. Nerves gather wherever her body heat lingers, and the sensation on my skin sharpens. Each time her tongue traces over me, a tingling runs through, and my shoulder jerks on its own.

It feels as though my heart has shrunk to half its size, and it hurts.

Sendai-san's tongue travels from my wrist, following the line of a vein up my arm.

When her lips press once more and I pull my arm back, my hand returns to me without any resistance.

When her warmth disappears, it feels insufficient.

I think I want to touch Sendai-san more than I want to eat cake.

"Close your eyes."

When I tell her, she closes her open eyes without a word.

I stand and touch her cheek.

I slide my hand down and trace her lips with my fingertip. When I stroke the center, my finger is licked. As I pull my hand away from her mouth, Sendai-san grips my clothes. Just like that, she draws me closer, and I press my lips to hers.

Because it's only a light touch, it doesn't taste like whipped cream.

I only feel the softness before I pull away.

Sendai-san opens her eyes, and our gazes meet.

Before she, who looks as though she wants to say something, can speak, I open my mouth first.

"Sendai-san, you haven't kept your promise to go eat together, have you?"

I bring up the promise she swore on her piercing during Golden Week.

"I've been busy since the holidays ended."

I look at her as she makes excuses while leaning back in her chair.

"You were the one who invited me, Sendai-san."

"Is this coming Sunday alright for that promise?"

"That's fine."

I answer shortly, wipe my finger with a tissue, and Sendai-san drinks her black tea as though nothing happened.