Volume 5 Episode 01

Spring has arrived, and the move is finally over.

Now that I have become a university student, I am spending my days without receiving the five thousand yen from Miyagi.

The days without that five thousand yen, which had existed between us as a matter of course, feel strangely fresh. When I wake up in the morning, Miyagi is there. When I say good morning, she says good morning in return. Just as we decided on the day of the graduation ceremony, Miyagi and I are roommates. Even though we attend different universities, we live in the same place.

The next deadline is four years from now. Until we graduate from university, we will continue living together.

I will spend more time with Miyagi than we ever have before, but even so, I think I can live a more human life than I did with my family, who never responded to a voice they should have heard.

However, I am not living well with Miyagi.

There are many problems, yet Miyagi does not resolve them for me.

I take the milk pan out from under the sink. After hesitating for a moment, I pour in enough water to brew tea for two and place it on the stove.

In this dining kitchen that serves as our shared space, there is neither an electric kettle nor a regular kettle.

We brought everything we thought we needed, and we bought and prepared what was missing.

Or so I believed. Once we actually began living here, it turned out there were many things we lacked. An electric kettle is one of them, and I want to go buy one. But because of Miyagi, I cannot.

I let out a sigh. Hearing footsteps, I turn around.

Miyagi steps out of her room with a sleepy expression, and I speak to her.

“Good morning.”

“......Good morning.”

“Would you like some tea?”

“No, thanks.”

“What are you doing for lunch today?”

She is wearing denim pants and a hoodie.

When I ask Miyagi, whose clothes are not much different from her usual ones, her brow furrows, as if the question itself is unwelcome.

Although we exchanged good mornings, it will be noon in about an hour. Since it is Saturday morning, there is nothing strange about waking up late. I do not know how much I am allowed to interfere with Miyagi’s lifestyle, but since we are living together, I think it is reasonable to ask at least whether she plans to eat.

“I’ll just eat something casually.”

Miyagi answers in a voice that is openly displeased.

“Since it’s a good opportunity, why don’t we eat together? I can make something after we have tea.”

I ask as I take a mug out of the cupboard.

“......I have plans with Maika.”

Utsunomiya again, I thought.

It does not feel very pleasant. Ever since we moved here, it seems to me that Miyagi has been meeting Utsunomiya more often than necessary.

“So, what about lunch?”

“I’m in a hurry.”

An answer that does not actually answer the question comes back. Because of that, I cannot tell what her “casually” is supposed to mean.

Whether she plans to eat casually outside with Utsunomiya, or to eat something quickly here before leaving because she is running late.

Or perhaps some other kind of casual eating altogether.

From Miyagi’s words, I cannot determine the correct answer. And even if I press her further, she does not seem likely to give me a clear one.

“I see.”

After giving an ambiguous reply, Miyagi disappears into the bathroom. It seems she plans to eat lunch casually somewhere outside rather than here, so I put the mug I had just taken out back into the cupboard.

It has been like this ever since we moved here.

Miyagi hardly says anything.

It feels as though we have returned to the past.

Back when I had only just begun visiting Miyagi’s room, she did not speak much, and I was uncomfortable with the silence she created. Even now, the atmosphere is close to that.

Neither of us has fully adjusted to this new life yet. By losing the five thousand yen that had always existed between us, we gained the relationship of roommates. But we do not know what form that relationship is supposed to take. Until the graduation ceremony, being by her side felt natural. Now it feels too close, and yet when we are apart, it feels too far, and I cannot relax.

I pour out the hot water from the milk pan.

Living together with Miyagi.

I knew it would not be nothing but fun, but I did not expect it to be this difficult.

I prepare the eggs and milk and take out a bowl.

I crack the eggs into the bowl, mix them with sugar, add the milk, and stir again until it blends. I should cut the sliced bread with a knife, but today I tear it into four pieces by hand and drop them into the bowl. As I watch the bread soak up the egg mixture, Miyagi comes back from the bathroom.

Miyagi.

Before I can even call that short name, she retreats back into her room. I decide to make French toast, even though it is a little early for lunch, and heat the frying pan to melt some butter.

The kitchen is narrower than the one at Miyagi’s house. It is about as easy to use as her kitchen was, and yet it feels uncomfortable. This house has not yet become my home. I arrange the egg-soaked bread in the frying pan and stare at it.

Whether I wake up in the morning, come home from university, or prepare to sleep, Miyagi is in this house. When I go into my own room, I am alone, but almost certainly she is just on the other side of the wall.

A faint tension accompanies that realization.

Miyagi probably feels the same way.

This place is an uncomfortable space for her as well, and it has not yet become her home.

Even so, it should be better than the dormitory she was originally meant to enter.

I breathe out with a quiet “fuu” and turn off the gas stove. I take a single plate from the cupboard, place the finished French toast on it, and carry it to the table. Then I open the refrigerator. I reach for the orange juice, hesitate, and take out the cider instead. I pour it into a glass and set it beside the French toast. When I pick up a fork and sit down, I hear the door open.

“Sendai-san, I’m going out.”

At her voice, I lift my gaze from the French toast to Miyagi.

“Will you have time when you get back?”

I want to know what time she will return, but it is difficult to ask directly, because it would sound like I am trying to monitor her every move.

“I don’t know.”

Miyagi answers curtly and heads for the entrance before I can say anything else.

To put it plainly, she is running away.

I drink the cider that Miyagi always drinks.

As expected, it does not taste good.

I dislike the sensation of the carbonation popping in my mouth and the way it pushes and expands my stomach from the inside. Miyagi drinks it because she likes it, but for me, cider is something whose sweetness I cannot even clearly identify. It will never become something I drink willingly the way she does.

I slowly bring the French toast to my mouth. This one has a rich sweetness, filled with the flavors of butter and eggs. The soft, moist bread settles my stomach.

After eating about half of it, I take a sip of the cider. University has only just begun, and I have not even finished registering for my courses.

Which lectures to choose, what kind of schedule to build for university life. I want to talk to Miyagi about these things, but she keeps running away. She has run away from me many times before, but when it happens in this cramped space, it hurts all the more.

This table, which is not very large and is meant to be shared, along with the two chairs, has practically become mine alone. I can hardly remember Miyagi sitting across from me. Last summer, we made French toast together and ate it side by side.

I let out a single sigh and force the rest of the French toast down. I pull a soft sheet from the tissue box on the table and wipe my mouth.

The tissue box has no cover on it.

Since Miyagi used to put a crocodile-shaped cover on her tissue box, I think it would be fine to go buy a cover for the shared space together. Naturally, I also want to buy an electric kettle. If we shop for everything at once, living here should become more comfortable.

But I do not know whether Miyagi wants a tissue box cover, and I still do not know whether she thinks an electric kettle is necessary. All of this stems from the simple fact that we spend far too little time talking to each other.

I do not even know what became of the things that were in Miyagi’s room when she was in high school. Whether the crocodile tissue cover came here with her. Whether the black cat plushie I gave her for Christmas is displayed on her bookshelf.

The reason I do not know even such small things is because I have not yet entered Miyagi’s room. Even though we are supposed to be living together, her room feels far too distant to me right now.

I let the air out of my lungs with a quiet “haa.” I slide my hand from the nape of my neck down to my chest.

The pendant Miyagi told me to return on the day of the graduation ceremony, which somehow ended up back with me, had rested here ever since I received it. But after we moved here, she told me I did not need to wear it, so now I do not.

Our relationship is continuing in the way I wished, and I am living a more human life than I did in my family home. I suppose I should be satisfied with that alone. But if possible, I want to open the closed door and enter Miyagi’s room like I did in high school. I want to sit beside her like back then, and kiss her.

“......She would definitely get angry, wouldn’t she?”

Now that the five thousand yen that once existed between us as a matter of course is gone, the things we once did as a matter of course have become impossible. Most of what we shared in high school has disappeared, and the right to enter Miyagi’s room has been lost. There are no more orders, and I have no right to touch her or to kiss her.

Does Miyagi ever think about wanting to kiss me again?

We have not kissed since the day we went to see the movie. I had always believed that I no longer needed the five thousand yen. But now, I find myself thinking that it might have been better if we still had it.

These fresh days are more difficult to endure than the past. There are simply too many things missing. The most significant of them is “conversation,” and I want to talk more with Miyagi.

No, we need to talk. At this distance, we probably should not be living together. Sooner or later, it will fall apart.

I knew even before we started living together that sharing a home with Miyagi would be difficult. Since I forced her to choose coming here, I bear the responsibility of changing the current atmosphere.

If we do not know what the appropriate distance is, then we should prepare something to measure it. A ruler to determine our new distance.

If we had such a thing, we could find a distance where we can both remain ourselves. We should be able to live at an appropriate distance without interfering too much with each other.

The first time I went to Miyagi’s house, we created “rules” together. If we establish “rules” again that can serve as a ruler, just like back then, this life should become easier.

I look up, pick up my smartphone that had been resting at the edge of the table, and send a message to Miyagi, even though I do not really know where she is.

“I’ll wait without eating dinner.”

After a short while, a reply arrives.

“I don’t know what time I’ll be back.”

“I’ll wait. Until Miyagi comes back, forever.”

It sounds almost like a threat, but there is no helping it.

“I’ll buy something to eat on the way back.”

She does not tell me what time she will return, but if she is buying something to eat and coming home, then she should be back around the time she gets hungry. I send “I’ll wait,” then clean the plate that held the French toast and the glass.

✧✧✧✧✧

“Isn’t this a bit much?”

I place a slightly large bag on the table in the shared space and look at Miyagi. She had said she did not know what time she would be back, yet she returned earlier than I expected.

That is good. I wanted her to come home as early as possible, and I am grateful she returned at a time when we could still have dinner together. However, the bag she handed me with a casual “here” contained far too much bread for two people.

“Maika said that shop’s bread was delicious, so I bought a lot.”

The “Maika” she mentions is Utsunomiya, and hearing a name I did not expect causes the area around my temple to twitch.

Miyagi kept her promise to buy something to eat on the way back, and I never specified what that “something” should be. So there is nothing wrong with the bag containing bread Utsunomiya recommended. Still, right now, I did not want to hear that name.

“Bread is something you eat in the morning or at lunch, not at night. And I already ate bread for lunch.”

I throw out words that can only be called nitpicking toward Miyagi, who stands a few steps away with a face utterly devoid of warmth.

“Then you don’t have to eat it.”

Miyagi replies in a low voice, and an ominous atmosphere settles into the not very spacious dining kitchen. This is not the kind of conversation I wanted to have.

Miyagi, who was focused on going out, probably did not notice that I made and ate French toast for lunch. The bread is not at fault. Utsunomiya is not at fault either. The one at fault is my mood, and if things continue like this, we will never reach a proper discussion.

Calm down.

I tell myself.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t eat it. I’ll get drinks, so wait. You want cider, right, Miyagi?”

Without waiting for her reply, I move toward the refrigerator.

I take out the orange juice and the cider and pour them into glasses. It would be fine to eat the bread straight from the bag, but that would not feel like dinner. I take two plates from the cupboard and hand one to Miyagi.

When I bring the glasses over and sit down, Miyagi sits across from me as well.

“Sendai-san, you can choose first.”

“You choose first, Miyagi.”

“You ate bread for lunch, right? Just pick a different one.”

I would rather choose after her than first, but yielding like this will not get us anywhere. What matters is not which bread we eat, but that I talk to Miyagi.

“Then I’ll choose first.”

I take a ham and cheese croissant and a croquette bread from the bag and place them on my plate. When I say, “Miyagi?” she, who had been watching me, selects a potato salad bread and a wiener roll and places them on her plate.

“Let’s eat.”

We do not say it together, but our voices overlap. I pick up the croissant and take two bites. The outside is crisp, while the inside is soft and chewy.

The ham and cheese are balanced, neither too much nor too little. It should be delicious bread, yet today I do not have the leisure to enjoy its flavor.

“Miyagi. Did you tell Utsunomiya that you’re living with me?”

Instead of jumping straight into the main issue, I bring up one of the things that has been weighing on my mind.

“I did.”

“Did she say anything?”

“Nothing in particular.”

She answers briefly and bites into the potato salad bread. Her eyes remain fixed on her plate, and she makes no attempt to look at me.

No matter how I think about it, I cannot believe that she really talked to Utsunomiya about us. But there is no point in pressing her about whether she truly did so, or in questioning how she explained our living arrangement. Even if I pursue it, Miyagi probably will not tell me the truth. And even if I never learn the truth, it would not cause me any real trouble. It would only satisfy a small amount of curiosity.

“......Was the reason you waited for me today, Sendai-san, because you wanted to hear that?”

Miyagi asks without lifting her gaze.

I take a bite of the croissant, swallow, and then speak.

“The part about Utsunomiya was just a preface. The real topic starts now. Let’s decide on some rules from here on.”

At my words, Miyagi looks up.

“Rules?”

“Yeah. Rules for two people living together. It would be easier to live like this if we had some kind of agreement, right?”

“You can decide them yourself, Sendai-san. Just tell me later.”

Miyagi says this irritably and stands up, leaving the wiener roll untouched on her plate. This kind of reaction was within my expectations.

I had even imagined that she might not eat dinner with me at all, so the fact that she sat across from me and at least took a bite of bread makes me want to praise her excessively. But if she escapes here, we will simply repeat the same pattern again.

“If it’s fine for me to decide everything, then if I make a rule that we have to kiss every day, you won’t complain?”

I take a sip of orange juice and set the glass back on the table.

“Of course I’d complain.”

“Then take part in the discussion.”

“......Rules, like what kind of rules, for example?”

Miyagi sits back down and looks at me.

“Things like taking turns throwing out the trash or cleaning. That sort of thing.”

In truth, what I really want to know is whether it is okay to kiss like before, or whether it is okay to touch her body. Those are the things I want to ask. These days without the five thousand yen feel fresh, but I am dissatisfied with a life where everything that happened in Miyagi’s room seems to have vanished along with it.

But it is probably better not to bring that up yet.

Right now, we need to get used to a very ordinary life.

If we do not decide on rules necessary for sharing a home and learn how to live as roommates, it will become suffocating.

“Then I want a rule that we don’t enter each other’s rooms without permission.”

Miyagi mutters this and bites into the wiener roll with a crunch.

“I’m not entering your room without permission even now, but it would probably be good to make it an official rule. Do you want any others?”

“Others? Besides that......”

She murmurs as if talking to herself. As she thinks, I propose several rules of my own, and little by little, opinions begin to come from Miyagi as well.

It is fine to invite friends over, but not to let them stay overnight. Inform each other when staying out for the night.

As we decide everything from clearly necessary rules to ones I am not even sure we need, a span of time passes that is neither particularly long nor short. Then Miyagi speaks in a slightly tired voice.

“We don’t need any more rules than this, right?”

At her words, I take a sip of orange juice.

“How about eating together once a week or so?”

I ask as casually as I can and look at Miyagi.

“Is once a week enough?”

“It’s fine.”

“That much is fine, but......”

Her words trail off. She looks like she wants to say something, so I prompt her.

“But?”

“Not just when staying out overnight. Tell me when you’ll be late coming home too. ......That way, we can eat together on other days as well. We used to eat together before, right?”

She says it quietly, but quickly.

“So it’s okay if it’s more than once a week? Eating together.”

“If Sendai-san doesn’t want to, then we won’t.”

“That’s why we’ll make it a rule. On days when our schedules match, we eat together. So Miyagi, tell me when you’ll be late too.”

A small “yeah” comes back.

I had not expected her to say something like wanting to eat together more than once a week. It is a small thing, but I feel relieved that even in this changed life, she still seeks something unchanged, like eating together.

“Then, Miyagi. If we break the rules, we’ll have a penalty game.”

I do not think Miyagi will break them, but I add something to make it harder to ignore the rules. Most of the rules would not cause serious trouble even if broken.

But the last rule, eating together when our schedules match, is trivial yet important to me. I want her to value it as well.

“What’s the penalty?”

“Hmm. How about listening to one request from the other person?”

The content itself can be anything, but if it is too easy, it stops being a penalty. It needs to be at least somewhat troublesome.

“That’s fine. But don’t forget, the one who’ll break the rules is you, Sendai-san.”

Miyagi says this bluntly and stares at me.

She has no trust in me. Looking back on what I have done in the past, her words are understandable. Even so, I cannot honestly admit that I will be the one to break them.

“I won’t break them, so it’ll be fine.”

I say this confidently and finish the remaining croissant in one bite. The ham and cheese mix together as they settle in my stomach, and I reach for the croquette bread.

“Hey, Sendai-san.”

“What?”

I bite into the croquette bread and look at Miyagi.

“When we eat together, who makes the food?”

“If we’re eating together, then we make it together.”

When I answer as if it is obvious, Miyagi makes an extremely irritated expression. Before she can say something like she does not want to eat together after all, I change the topic.

“By the way, Miyagi. I want an electric kettle. Is it okay if I buy one?”

“You don’t need to ask me. Just buy it.”

“I can’t just buy it on my own. It’s something we’ll both use.”

“Then we have no choice but to buy it. I’ll pay for it.”

“You don’t have to pay. Since it’s for both of us, we’ll use that money.”

At my words, Miyagi frowns.

“That money is Sendai-san’s.”

“It’s money for both of us.”

“It’s the money I gave you.”

By “that money,” she means the money in my piggy bank. Since it accumulated from the five thousand yen bills she gave me in exchange for following orders, her words are not wrong.

Not all of it, but that money was used for the contract on this apartment. Before we moved in, however, the amount used was returned by Miyagi’s parents.

There is no need to think deeply about it.

When they heard that their daughter, who was supposed to live in a dorm, was now sharing an apartment, there was no way her parents would not pay. Half of the contract-related costs were properly returned, and the money I paid was reimbursed.

Even so, I do not want to use that money for myself. But if I say I will return it to Miyagi, she will refuse. So I keep it as shared money, to be used for both of us.

Naturally, Miyagi is not convinced.

“Well, it doesn’t matter whose money it is. Let’s go buy the electric kettle together.”

I set aside an argument that will never be resolved and return to the kettle.

“What if I say I don’t want to?”

“Then from now on, Miyagi will have to boil water for me in the milk pan forever.”

I smile pleasantly. Miyagi makes a face as if she has bitten into something bitter.

“......When are we buying it?”

“Tomorrow. Do you have plans with Utsunomiya?”

If she says next week or something like that, it will feel as though everything we decided today was meaningless. I do not want to postpone it.

“......No. Tomorrow is fine.”

She mutters this and finishes the wiener roll.

“Hey, Miyagi. Tomorrow, wear a skirt.”

Even though some awkwardness remains, I say something foolish in the slightly softened atmosphere.

“No way.”

“That was fast.”

“There’s no reason to wear one.”

“Because I like your legs.”

Since coming here, I have not seen Miyagi in a skirt. She does not wear them every day anymore like she did with her uniform, and she is not wearing one today either. Still, I want to see her legs again after so long. Because we spent so much time in uniform in her room, Miyagi in a skirt feels familiar.

“I absolutely won’t wear one.”

“I thought you’d say that.”

“......Do you really want to see that badly?”

“If you’ll show me.”

I cannot say it to her now, and I do not plan to, but the truth is that I want to touch Miyagi’s legs. No, not just her legs. I want to touch her casually, like when we were high school students. I even feel regretful that she no longer orders me around.

“You’re a pervert, Sendai-san.”

I thought she would say that.

But even so, I think it is better when Miyagi talks to me like this.