Volume 6 Episode 10

The exams are just around the corner, yet I still can't bring myself to concentrate on studying.

I've been sitting at my desk accomplishing nothing, my thoughts endlessly drifting towards Sendai-san, who's still out late because of her tutoring job.

When I glance at the clock, it's already well past dinner time.

I left my room and head into the shared living space.

I'm not particularly hungry, but I decide to make stew anyway. I took out a knife and a cutting board, then gathered some carrots, potatoes, and onions, peeling each one in turn.

If this had been last year, I probably would've settled for a retort pouch instead of going through the trouble of making stew from scratch. But things are different now. Ever since I started living with Sendai-san, I've come to feel that making simple meals is perfectly fine, and right now, keeping my hands busy feels far better than letting my thoughts wander aimlessly.

Stew is simple: cut the ingredients, stir-fry them, then let everything simmer.

I don't even have to think much about the seasoning, so there's little chance of it turning out badly.

On the cutting board, I slice the vegetables into bite-sized pieces.

I'm used to being alone, but that doesn't make it any less dull. Even on the days Sendai-san comes home after work, it still feels dull. That's because she spends so much time talking about student I've never met, and listening to stories about people I don't know isn't interesting in the slightest.

Besides, when someone who's normally always around suddenly isn't there on certain days, it unsettles me. Because Sendai-san still isn't back, even this simple task of cutting vegetables is making me careless. I nearly sliced my finger.

I stopped the knife over the potato.

What if, instead of the potato, I actually cut my finger?

What if I cut it deeply enough that the bleeding wouldn't stop?

―――――What would Sendai-san do?

A quiet sigh escapes me.

There's no way Sendai-san would quit her tutoring job just because I hurt my finger. I know full well that whatever she's doing and wherever she is have nothing to do with me. Even so, ever since Maika came over, I've wanted to interfere in Sendai-san's life even more than I did before.

"I should've just used a retort pouch..."

I started cooking because I didn't want to dwell on pointless thoughts, yet all I've managed to do is think about pointless things. But it's too late to change course now, so I finished cutting the remaining vegetables and the chicken before stir-frying them.

I pour in the water and let everything simmer, absentmindedly skimming the scum from the surface.

Once it's ready, I turned off the heat, break in the roux, turn the flame back on, and stir carefully so nothing catches on the bottom.

I pour in the milk and stare into the pot.

Stew made from scratch isn't something that's meant to be eaten alone. No matter how hard I try, thoughts of Sendai-san, who isn't here, keep surfacing in my mind. Just as I begin regretting not choosing the retort pouch after all, Sendai-san comes home, looking as though she's about to tell me everything that happened at her tutoring job.

"I'm home."

Still standing in front of the pot, I answer, "Welcome back." Sendai-san comes closer, sniffing the air with soft little "kun kun" sounds, like a curious dog.

"Something smells really good around Miyagi."

"It's not me, it's the pot."

"You made stew?"

Sendai-san steps up until she's standing right beside me.

We're close enough that we could kiss. Without meaning to, my eyes drift to her face.

Usually, in moments like this, Sendai-san is the one who kisses me. But I should be allowed to do it too. Right now, if I leaned in just a little, I could kiss her.

There aren't any rules, at least none that I can remember, about who has to make the first move or when we're supposed to kiss. So it should be fine if I'm the one who kisses her for no particular reason.

"Miyagi?"

The sound of Sendai-san calling my name pulls my gaze away from her face and back to the stew.

Even without thinking very hard, I know she'd probably have something to say if I suddenly kissed her out of nowhere. Besides, it's not like I actually want to kiss her for no reason. I just happened to notice that we were standing at exactly the right distance. Ever since Maika came over, I've been acting a little strange.

"You could tell I was making stew just from the smell. You didn't have to come this close."

I give Sendai-san's stomach a light push.

"I was wondering if there'd be enough for me too."

As she says it, Sendai-san takes about two steps back.

"I wouldn't make stew just for myself."

"I see. Is it almost ready?"

Her cheerful voice prompts me to reply, "It is."

"I'll go put my things down, so wait for me."

Holding up her bag as if to show me, Sendai-san heads toward her room.

I turned off the heat, took out two plates, serve the rice, and ladle the stew over it. Sendai-san comes back almost immediately and helps carry the stew and the spoons to the table.

"Let's eat."

Our voices overlap as we say it at the same time, and I take my first bite of the stew.

Even though I used the exact same ingredients and the same roux, it doesn't taste nearly as good as when Sendai-san makes it. Once it's in your stomach, it all ends up the same anyway, but if I'm going to eat, I'd rather it actually taste good.

"Miyagi, you've gotten really good at cooking. It's delicious."

Sendai-san's voice fills the room.

"...Thanks."

I thank her anyway, if only out of courtesy.

But Sendai-san says everything she eats is delicious.

She'd probably tell me it was good even if it wasn't, and she'd definitely finish every last bite even if I'd completely messed it up. I don't dislike that side of her, but sometimes I want to hear what she really thinks.

I don't expect her to always say exactly what's on her mind, but there are some things I don't want her to gloss over.

Like what happened the day Maika came over.

I did ask what the two of them talked about, but there's something else that's been bothering me ever since.

That day, when Maika asked whether she liked anyone, Sendai-san never answered. She was the only one who stayed silent, and that's why it stuck with me. It's not the sort of topic we normally talk about, so I never had another opportunity to ask her afterward.

It's not something I should be pressing her about, but it still feels unfair that Sendai-san was the only one who never answered. I answered, so she should answer too, even if it's long after the fact. But the fact that she didn't answer... maybe that means there really is someone she likes.

“Sendai-san.”

It doesn't matter who Sendai-san likes. But I don't want anything else, like her tutoring job, to take priority over me. Still, if there's someone she prioritise over me, then I understand there's nothing I can do about it. Even so, if that person exists, I at least want to know what kind of person they are.

“What?”

Sendai-san swallows a mouthful of stew and looks at me.

Talking about someone you like is something everyone does. I do it with Maika, and I do it with Ami too. It should be an easy topic for anyone to talk about, yet the words catch in my throat as though I'm about to say something impossibly difficult.

“Next time, you make the stew, Sendai-san.”

Instead of the question I was thinking about, completely different words leave my mouth.

“Sure.”

Her easygoing reply comes back at once.

It's not something I have to ask right now.

It's only because Maika brought up a topic we don't usually talk about that everything suddenly feels out of place.

I let out a quiet sigh, making sure Sendai-san doesn't hear it.

✧✧✧✧✧

On the table sit slices of rare cheesecake and glasses of iced tea.

It was Sendai-san who bought today's after-dinner dessert, the kind that appears sometimes and doesn't at others. She's sitting diagonally across from me with her back resting against the bed.

“Why cheesecake?”

I ask as I stroke the head of the platypus plushie that lives in Sendai-san's room. I could've eaten in my room, but somehow, after dinner, I ended up coming here without ever finding the right moment to suggest it.

“It's a celebration because exams are over.”

After saying that, Sendai-san adds, “Let's eat,” and picks up her fork. She breaks off the tip of the cheesecake and brings it to her mouth.

“I'm happy the exams are over, but is that really something worth celebrating with cake?”

“Even if it isn't much of a reason, having one makes it taste better, don't you think?”

“Isn't it just that you wanted to eat cheesecake, Sendai-san?”

“Well, that's true too. It's delicious, so you should eat yours too, Miyagi.”

She smiles at me, so I answer with my own “Let's eat” and take a bite of the cheesecake.

The smooth, creamy cheese melts across my tongue, blending perfectly with the crisp cookie crust beneath it.

This Chilled cheesecake is from the same shop Sendai-san bought from before. It has a pleasant tang that keeps it light and refreshing. Even though dinner wasn't that long ago, it's so good that I feel like I could eat two or even three slices.

“Sendai-san, do you like Chilled cheesecake?”

Today, there were only two slices of Chilled cheesecake in the box.

Last time, the box held four different cakes. Sendai-san gave me the Chilled cheesecake and the shortcake, then ate the baked cheesecake and the strawberry tart that were left.

“I do.”

“Between Chilled cheesecake and baked cheesecake, which do you like more?”

“Both. You like the Chilled one, don't you, Miyagi?”

“Yeah, but...”

Back then, when I asked Sendai-san which of the four cakes she liked, she answered, “Strawberry tart and baked cheesecake.” Seeing that she bought two slices of rare cheesecake today, I can't help thinking she actually prefers Chilled cheesecake after all. But Sendai-san never tells the truth.

“What other kinds of cake do you like besides cheesecake, Miyagi?”

Like always, she's trying to dodge the question.

Which one do you really like more?

Even if I answer her question with another question, she'll probably just say, “Both,” again.

I want to know what kind of cake she likes, but it's not something I should keep pressing her about.

“The ones that aren't too sweet.”

I swallow the words that would probably get me nowhere and answer her question instead.

“Yeah, if it's too sweet, you get sick of it halfway through.”

Saying that, Sendai-san takes a long sip of her iced tea.

Everything about her feels difficult. I can't even coax an answer out of her to a simple question like which cheesecake she likes better. I still don't know about the person she likes, something that would normally come up whenever friends get together. The desire to know keeps swelling inside me like a balloon, yet I can't hand her that balloon filled with every question I want to ask.

“Oh, right, Miyagi.”

As though something has just come back to her, Sendai-san claps her hands and continues.

“What are you doing over summer break? You're not going home, right?”

“I'm not going home, but I haven't decided what I'm doing yet.”

Now that exams are over, summer break has begun, but my schedule is completely empty.

Even though the vacation is longer than it was in high school, I have nothing planned.

“Then, want to go somewhere together? You're not going out with Utsunomiya, are you?”

As casually as if it were nothing, Sendai-san brings up Maika's name.

The two of them seem to have grown closer than before ever since that day. No matter which one I'm talking to, the other's name occasionally comes up.

“Why do you think I'm not going out with Maika?”

“I heard from Utsunomiya that she's going back to her parents' house for summer break. She said she'd be staying there for quite a while, but did her plans change?”

“...They didn't. She won't be back until September.”

The Sendai-san and Maika I saw together in this room had the easy familiarity of friends who'd known each other for years, and they genuinely seemed to enjoy each other's company, so I thought it was perfectly fine for them to become friends too. But I had no idea they'd grown close enough to talk about their summer break plans.

“I see. Then you've got plenty of free time.”

Sendai-san smiles brightly.

It's true that I do have time.

Going out together during summer break wouldn't be a bad idea, but I don't want to agree so readily. That's because Maika's name keeps lingering in my mind. And because seeing how naturally Sendai-san knows my friend's plans leaves me with the same lingering discomfort as eating a cake that's just a little too sweet.

I want to know.

How close she really is with Maika, and what they talk about.

I've never heard of the two of them meeting up by themselves, but will they start doing that from now on?

I want to know.

But I can't ask something like that. I know I shouldn't pry so deeply into Sendai-san's relationships, and asking would only make me seem unnatural.

I break off a generous piece of the rare cheesecake in front of me and take a large bite. A refreshing tang spreads across my tongue. But the cream cheese, which ought to feel light, settles into something heavy that weighs down my stomach.

“Miyagi, let’s go out and have some fun together during summer break.”

Maika is my friend, and that won't change even if she grows closer to Sendai-san. But there's also a part of me that doesn't want the two of them getting any closer.

“I don't have any plans, but I don't feel like going anywhere.”

“Aren't you becoming too much of a homebody?”

“It’s hot, and there's no reason to go outside on purpose, right?”

That's not what I really want to say.

Because Sendai-san has been getting too close to Maika, everything feels out of place, and nothing turns out the way I want it to. The questions I want to ask but can't keep circling through my mind, and I can't find the right words to say.

It's all Sendai-san's fault.

This is happening because she talks about Maika with such obvious affection.

Maika is my best friend, my special friend, so I wish Sendai-san wouldn't become so close to her.

If things keep going like this, I can't shake the feeling that Sendai-san is going to take Maika away from me, and I hate it.

No, that's not right.

Until now, I'd never cared who Maika spent her time with.

But the moment Sendai-san becomes involved, I can't untangle my feelings.

I...

I hate the thought of Sendai-san being taken away by Maika.

I hope the distance between the two of them never grows any smaller.

No matter how close they become or how friendly they get, that's all it is. Maika won't touch Sendai-san, and she definitely won't kiss her. Sendai-san won't touch Maika or kiss her either. Maika and I are different.

I'm Sendai-san's roommate. I'm the only one who gets to live with her. I know that, yet the moment even a little of Sendai-san's attention shifts toward someone else, anxiety takes hold of me.

“Well, if you feel that strongly about it, Miyagi, we can just watch a movie inside.”

Sendai-san's voice cuts through my thoughts.

Not wanting to look at her face, I lower my gaze to her plate. The Chilled cheesecake is already gone.

I press my fork into my own slice of cake.

I bring it to my mouth one small bite at a time and force it down.

Even though I'm eating cake, it feels as though I'm chewing on dirt.

“Is there any movie you'd like to watch?”

Her gentle, considerate voice reaches me.

I probably don't look very pleasant right now. My brows are probably knit together, and my eyes might seem unusually sharp.

“You can choose, Sendai-san.”

I answer curtly before taking a sip of my iced tea.

I should go back to my room.

I finished what's left on my plate and set my fork down.

But before I could stand, Sendai-san reaches over and takes the hand I'd left resting on the table.

“Miyagi, didn't the cake taste good?”

Sendai-san's question and her actions don't match at all. There was no reason for her to hold my hand here, yet she did.

She always does things that seem completely without reason.

And whether there's a reason or not, Sendai-san's body is soft, warm, and comforting. Whenever I'm touching her, I can reassure myself that her attention is on me. Even my worries about Maika quietly melt away.

That's why I want to keep touching Sendai-san.

I don't want it to be anyone else.

But I don't want to make her "special."

It's enough for the relationship we have as roommates to be "special."

We promised to live together until we graduated from university, a promise we haven't made with anyone else. But our "special" comes with an expiration date: graduation. We made a similar promise back in high school, one that also ended with graduation, but I can't think of this promise in quite the same way. If I make Sendai-san herself "special," I don't think I'll be able to graduate.

Promises are meant to be kept, not broken. Nothing lasts forever; everything eventually comes to an end.

Even if I pretend the deadline of graduation doesn't exist, it'll still arrive. So I have to make sure I can keep that promise.

“I'm going back to my room.”

I try to stand and pull our joined hands toward myself, but her grip doesn't loosen. When I glare at her, she smiles back at me.

“Can't you stay a little longer? Exams are over, so just relax.”

“I said I'm going back to my room. Let go of my hand.”

“If you say you'll stay here a little longer, I'll let go.”

Sendai-san can be cruel sometimes, but I wish she wouldn't choose today of all days.

If we keep holding hands like this, I won't be myself anymore.

“I won't say it.”

I tug harder than before, trying to free my hand.

“Miyagi, that's dangerous. The glass is going to fall.”

Even as she says that, Sendai-san still doesn't let go. The hand that had intertwined with mine for no reason now tightens its grip even more, and I become even more aware of her warmth. That clear, gentle heat draws me in, making me want to touch Sendai-san even more than before.

“Sendai-san.”

I call her name, but she still refuses to let go.

In that case...

I rise onto my knees.

Our hands came together for no reason and have remained together for no reason, so what I'm about to do doesn't need a reason either.

I press my lips against Sendai-san's. The moment I push lightly against her, warmth flows into me along with a softness even gentler than her hand. Sendai-san immediately kisses me back more deeply, so I pull away as though fleeing from her. The instant I do, the hand that had been holding mine finally releases its grip.

“That kiss just now meant, ‘let go of my hand,’ right?”

Sendai-san says it without the slightest hesitation.

I hadn't intended the kiss to be part of a bargain, but I have no intention of correcting her. If she wants to believe it was a kiss with a reason behind it, then I'll let it become one.

“Yeah, but also no.”

“What do you mean?”

I take a breath, let it out slowly, and move over to sit beside Sendai-san.

“Do you remember how I granted your request in this room before?”

“Request?”

Sendai-san looks at me with a puzzled expression.

“You didn't forget the request I made back then, did you? The one where I said I'd let you do whatever you wanted to me?”

I won't let her claim she's forgotten the incident that led to Maika finding out we were living together. I remember everything that happened in this room that day with perfect clarity, and I'm certain I'll never forget it.

“...I remember, but...”

Sendai-san murmurs, unusually quietly.

“I still haven't gotten anything in return for that.”

I can't ask the questions I really want answered, but I can touch Sendai-san. That's something we've always done to each other anyway.

“What do you mean by ‘haven't gotten anything in return’?”

At her question, I look away from her unwavering gaze and let out another slow breath. I can't keep talking while looking directly into her eyes.

“Since I did what you wanted back then, this time you're going to do what I want, Sendai-san.”

My desire to know has led me somewhere completely unexpected, flipping a switch I never even knew existed. But it was Sendai-san who grabbed my hand and started this chain of events, and it's her fault for not letting go sooner.

“You want me to do the same thing again?”

“No. I'm saying I'm going to do it to you, Sendai-san. I want to know what you'll become like. Tell me.”

If I touch Sendai-san the way she touched me.

If I could hear a voice from Sendai-san, one she'd never let anyone else hear.

Even if she grows closer to someone else, even if there are things she chooses over me, maybe I wouldn't feel this anxious anymore.

I know I shouldn't touch Sendai-san while I'm feeling this way, but I can't stop myself.

“...What brought this on?”

Sendai-san asks, as though she's trying to sound out my intentions.

“Like I said earlier, I just want to see what you become like. If you don't like it, you can refuse. But if you refuse, I absolutely won't ever let you do that kind of thing to me again.”

Sendai-san occupies an enormous place at the center of my heart. My feelings are drawn toward her like leaves spiraling into the heart of a whirlpool. If I can't force her out or pull myself free from the whirlpool, then at the very least, let me satisfy this longing to touch her and hear her voice.

I meet Sendai-san's gaze.

She's looking back at me with an unusually serious expression.

I have no intention of letting her refuse.

And then, most likely, Sendai-san wouldn't say she hated it. Even so, I can't stop wondering what would happen if she did refuse. If she'd just answer already, it'd be fine, but she won't open her mouth, and my hands feel like they're about to start trembling.

“Sendai-san, what's your answer?”

When I press the silent girl for a response, she calls me, “Miyagi.”

“With the way you just phrased it, if I don't refuse, that means Miyagi would be okay with doing it to me again, right? You do understand that, don't you?”

“……I understand.”

I understand exactly what I said.

I have no intention of pretending those words were never spoken.

If it means I can have today's Sendai-san, then I think it's worth using my future self as a bargaining chip.

“If you understand, then that's fine.”

Her voice is gentle, yet unwavering.

She looks straight at me without blinking, and I have to fight the urge to look away. But if I avert my eyes from Sendai-san's gaze, it feels as though what I'm about to do will become something truly wrong, so I can neither close my eyes nor look away.

“Does that mean… it's okay to do it?”

Just to make sure, I ask again, and she answers, “That's what it comes down to.”

If it were the usual Sendai-san, she would've probably smiled gently, but today she doesn't smile. She kept her expression completely serious. The atmosphere makes it feel as though what we're about to do carries tremendous weight, something of real significance, and I wish she'd just act the way she normally does. It feels unfair for her to wear such an openly sincere expression at a time like this.

“Then, here's the exchange condition. Bring me two towels.”

To Sendai-san, who believes the earlier kiss was the exchange condition, I say in a voice that's neither too loud nor too quiet.

“Eh, wait a second. When I asked if letting go of my hand was the exchange condition for the kiss, you said it wasn't, right? So I thought what we're about to do was the exchange condition, but it's not?”

“What we're about to do is because I listened to what Sendai-san said last time, so it isn't an exchange condition. The exchange condition is the towels.”

“……I see. So, what are the towels for?”

“Just go get them.”

“You pervert, Miyagi.”

Her tone is the same as always, and so is the way she speaks, but only Sendai-san's expression is different from usual. I can't read a single thing from the eyes fixed squarely on me.

“I haven't said or done anything yet.”

Even though we're only exchanging the kind of remarks we always have, my voice comes out stiff.

“So far, towels have only ever been used to tie my wrists or blindfold me.”

“If you already know the answer, then don't bother asking.”

If Sendai-san insists on wearing an expression that's different from usual, then I can simply cover it. If I make it so I can't see her face, then it won't distract me. If I restrain her movements as well, I'll probably feel even guiltier, but at least everything will unfold the way I want it to.

“Well, I'll bring them.”

Sendai-san says in a voice tinged with resignation as she rises to her feet.

Her long, slender legs carry her across the room.

Wearing jeans instead of a skirt, she walks over to the chest of drawers, picks up some white towels, and returns.

“Here you go.”

She sets the towels on top of my head before sitting back down on the bed. My eyes instinctively follow her, and my body moves on its own.

The towel slips from atop my head. I catch it before it reaches the floor, but there's only one white towel.

“Where's the other one?”

“The kiss only happened once, so one towel. Use it however you want.”

“That's unfair.”

“Miyagi's the unfair one here.”

Sendai-san nudges my side with her foot.

It's the exact opposite of how things usually are.

When I made her lick my feet, I was the one sitting on the bed while Sendai-san sat on the floor, but today Sendai-san is the one sitting on the bed, and I'm the one sitting on the floor.

I wrap my hand around Sendai-san's ankle.

Her legs are covered by denim, so almost none of the skin is visible. When I raise my gaze, I see the arms extending from her short-sleeved T-shirt.

It isn’t her uniform, and she isn’t wearing a skirt, but right now I’m looking at a view close to the one she always saw. I have no intention of licking her feet or anything, but it still feels a little strange.

“Miyagi, have you decided what you’re going to do? If you can’t decide, there’s also the option of not using them, you know? So what will it be?”

Sendai-san’s voice comes down from above my head, and I answer without hesitation.

“Close your eyes. I’m going to tie them.”

“What were you planning to tie my wrists for?”

Sendai-san asks without closing her eyes.

“So that you won’t do anything weird while I’m doing it.”

“I won’t do anything, so relax. So, blindfold?”

Because Sendai-san is making a face different from usual.

I can’t say that, so I give her the other reason.

“I just don’t like being seen.”

“Isn’t that normally my line? I think the one being done to is the one who’s supposed to say they don’t want to be seen.”

“It doesn’t matter whose line it is.”

“Then, what’s the reason you don’t like being seen?”

“Sendai-san, you’re noisy.”

Sendai-san has always talked a lot, but today she’s being unusually clingy. If she keeps chatting like this, it feels like nothing will happen and it’ll just end, so I stand up, intending to cover her eyes with the towel.

But before the towel touches Sendai-san, my wrist is grabbed.

“It’s fine to blindfold me, but before that, smile.”

Sendai-san says in a gentle voice and smiles at me as if telling me to do the same.

“No.”

“If you won’t smile, then kiss me.”

It seems she hadn’t expected me to smile, because the next words are thrown at me immediately. There’s no reason to refuse.

I slowly bring my face closer, and Sendai-san closes her eyes. After staring for a moment at her well-featured face, I touch my lips to hers—lips softer than the towel I’m still holding. But before I can feel their smoothness or warmth, I pull my lips away and cover her eyes with the towel.

“I can’t see anything.”

“That’s the point.”

When I gently touch her shoulder, Sendai-san lies down on the bed. I sit beside her, turn off the lights, and place the remote on the bed.

“……Sendai-san, face that way.”

“That way?”

“Toward the wall.”

I’ve covered her eyes and turned off the lights, so no matter which way Sendai-san faces, I won’t be able to see her face clearly, and she won’t be able to see mine. I know that, but when her face is turned toward me, my chest feels restless.

“Aren’t you being a bit too thorough?”

“Just do it. Turn your whole body that way.”

I firmly push her unmoving shoulder toward the wall.

“We won’t be able to kiss like this, is that okay?”

“It’s fine.”

When I answer shortly, Sendai-san turns her body toward the wall as if she’s given up. Feeling guilty toward her for so readily accepting my words.

Touching Sendai-san to erase my anxiety feels like I’m completely ignoring her feelings. I always put my own emotions first. Sendai-san often takes care of me, yet I can’t even manage half as much consideration for her.

I’m never doing things the right way.

I’ve never had a proper relationship with Sendai-san, and even now I’m trying to touch her for the wrong reasons. Still, I don’t think it’s a mistake.

This is the only way I’ve ever been able to interact with Sendai-san, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to touch her. It may not be right as roommates, but even if what I’m doing isn’t right, the fact that we are roommates remains true. Sendai-san herself said it was fine for roommates to do this.

So, it’s okay for me to touch Sendai-san.

After convincing myself, I lie down on the bed and hug Sendai-san’s body from behind. Our bodies press tightly together through her T-shirt. It feels like the first time I’ve ever hugged her of my own accord.

“Miyagi, you’re pressing really close.”

“So what?”

“Well, never mind. If it’s what Miyagi wants, then it’s fine.”

Sendai-san speaks as if it’s hard to say, then falls silent.

I really am pressing too close. Even through the fabric, I can clearly feel her body heat, and the scent of shampoo from her hair is strong enough to make my heart beat so loudly I worry she might hear it. But the more parts of us that are touching, the more my anxiety fades in proportion to the contact.

I slide the hand I’ve wrapped around her under the hem of her T-shirt. When I press my palm against her stomach to feel her body temperature better, Sendai-san’s body twitches.

I rest my forehead gently against her back, just below her neck.

I slide my hand from above her navel toward her side and call out, “Sendai-san.” Her small “What?” makes my heart leap hard. Worried the sound might reach her, I lift my forehead away.

After quietly breathing in and out, I slowly move the hand on her side and place it on her back. I trace her spine from below her neck. I press my hand against the area behind her heart, but I can’t feel her heartbeat. Still, I can tell her body is warm. When I press my lips to her shoulder through the fabric, Sendai-san shifts restlessly.

I run my hand a little above her waist and dig in my nails.

I hear Sendai-san let out a quiet breath.

I slide my hand down beneath her chest and gently cup her breast over her bra. All I can feel is the texture of the fabric. Since she doesn't say anything, I let my hand wander across it, as though confirming its shape. My fingertips glide over it lightly, without pressure, picking up nothing but the uneven lace and stitched seams. Just like when I touched her stomach, I want to feel her warmth and softness directly.

What I want to touch isn't the fabric covering her body.

It's Sendai-san herself.

After tracing my fingers along her collarbone, I let them drift farther until my hand comes to rest against her back. I stroke the curve of her shoulder blades and brush against the hook of her bra.

"……Is it okay if I undo it?"

"It's fine, as long as I get to do the same thing to you, Miyagi."

Sendai-san answers in a quiet voice.

"I won't let you, but I still want to undo it."

I slip my fingertips beneath the hook and stroke the line of her spine. Sendai-san doesn't tell me it's okay, but she doesn't refuse either. As though coaxing an answer out of her, I bite her shoulder through her T-shirt.

Tension runs through Sendai-san's back.

But she still says nothing, so I undo the hook.

"You pervert, Miyagi."

I pretend not to hear her quiet voice and slide my hand from her back to her chest. Slipping it beneath her bra, I place my hand directly against her breast. It's larger than mine, though not by much. I move my hand gently, as though cradling its curve. Unlike the lace-covered fabric I'd touched before, her smooth skin carries the warmth of her body straight into my palm. At the same time, something firm presses against it.

The center of that soft flesh.

The point pressing into my palm tells me exactly how she's reacting, and for an instant, my breath catches.

"Sendai-san."

I murmur her name and press my hand against her a little more firmly, but she doesn't answer. The sensation of that hardened point is unmistakable beneath my palm. When I brush it lightly with my fingertips, her body jerks sharply. There's no mistaking it as her response to what I did, and my fingers come to a stop.

Given what I'm doing now, there's nothing strange about it.

Even so, it feels overwhelming. I draw a slow breath in and let it out again. My heart is pounding so loudly I want to cover my ears. But if I did, I wouldn't be able to hear Sendai-san's voice, and I wouldn't be able to keep touching her.

"Sendai-san."

"Mm... yeah."

Her reply isn't much different from usual, yet it's laced with a sigh.

The sound of that voice tugs hard at my heart.

I want to touch Sendai-san more.

I want to change the voice that's gently brushing against my ears even further.

I want to know Sendai-san through these hands, through these ears.

I slowly trace the hardened center with my fingertips before covering it with my palm. The softness of her breast hasn't changed, yet it feels as though only that single point has grown firmer. As I gently and slowly move my fingers and hand, savoring both her softness and the sensation at its center, her back arches in response.

I find that side of Sendai-san adorable, and I want to take off her clothes just like this and see her body.

I want to switch on the lights, flood the room with brightness, look at her body, and leave my marks across her chest and along her collarbone. I want to bite down hard, then keep touching those marks until I'm satisfied.

The moment I reach for the hem of her T-shirt to roll it up, my hand is seized tightly.

It's an unmistakable refusal. The strength of her grip is completely different from when I undid the hook. Back then, I'd told her not to take my clothes off either, so I can't blame her. If I force her now, it feels like she'll refuse to let me do anything else.

"I won't take them off, so let go."

When I say it quietly, she releases my hand.

If I can't touch her now, I'll be in trouble.

I still haven't come to know all of her.

I pressed my body tightly against Sendai-san's curved back. My fingertips traced the center of her chest, and I pressed my lips against her shoulder through her clothes. I stroked her skin through my touch and continued to slowly caress her soft breasts.

“How long... are you going to keep... touching?”

Sendai-san's voice reached me, breaking at unnatural intervals. It was unmistakably different from before, carrying a faint, trembling warmth. I wanted to hear more of that voice, so I covered her breast with my palm. Even though it was something I had on my own body, simply touching hers felt so good that I couldn't bring myself to let go.

“Miya... gi.”

In a firmer voice, Sendai-san called my name and wrapped her hand around my wrist.

Her back shifted beneath me, and I heard her draw in a breath before slowly letting it out.

“That’s... enough already.”

To the voice I'd never heard from her until today, I answered, “No.”

“You're touching too much.”

Speaking softly, Sendai-san guided my hand down to just beneath her ribs.

A soft place untouched by bone.

Instead of her chest, I let my hand wander there and pinched her side.

“That hurts.”

Sendai-san scolded me.

I sank my teeth into her shoulder and pressed my hand firmly against her side, my palm clinging to her sweat-dampened skin. As I pressed our bodies together until there wasn't the slightest gap between us, the warmth flowing into my hand made me realize, far too late, that my own body had become ridiculously hot.

I eased my body back slightly from hers.

Even then, the heat refused to leave, remaining trapped inside me.

I ran my hand over Sendai-san's body as though confirming every part of her.

Starting at her side, I traced the line of her ribs before resting my hand over her solar plexus.

She was warm.

The length of her spine and the curve of her shoulder blades were warm too. Her soft, smooth skin accepted my hand no matter how firmly I pressed or how deeply my nails grazed against it. That melting warmth seeped into me, making my breathing uneven. Wanting to feel even more of her, I slid my hand below her navel and farther down until my fingers brushed the button of her denim jeans.

If I undid this, I'd be able to know even more of Sendai-san.

The thought made me hesitate, and memories of what had once been done to me flashed vividly through my mind, causing the image of Sendai-san to overlap with the person I had been back then. 

On this very bed, I... .

The memory of what had happened to me returned with startling clarity, and my awareness gathered at the pit of my own stomach. My body, on the verge of reacting, made me fully realize what I was about to do to Sendai-san.

The part of her I'd never touched before.

The place inside Sendai-san that I still didn't know.

I was going to touch it.

Past memories and the present blurred together, the me from that time overlapping with Sendai-san. My body was carried away by those memories, and my fingers fumbled, unable to undo the button properly.

“...Sendai-san, undo this.”

“Do it yourself.”

“I can't do it properly. Please do it.”

I rested my palm against her stomach.

Even when I pressed firmly, Sendai-san didn't move. I leaned my forehead against her shoulder and pleaded once more, “Please do it,” and she replied, “...It's embarrassing, you know.”

The hand I'd placed on her stomach was gripped tightly.

Even so, the memories of what had happened on this very bed clung to me, making something as simple as undoing a button feel impossible today. It was Sendai-san’s fault for planting such a memory that I would end up recalling at a moment like this. No matter how embarrassing it was, she should be the one to undo the button.

“Sendai-san.”

I pressed my lips to her shoulder over her T-shirt.

“That’s unfair, you know.”

When I said that softly, Sendai-san squeezed my hand once more before undoing the button of her denim pants for me.

“…The rest is up to you, Miyagi.”

At Sendai-san’s voice, I lowered the zipper.

I slid my hand inside the denim and touched her underwear.

There was no way I didn’t know what to do next.

Yet I still felt anxious.

Her body was already reacting to my hand, and I could imagine what it must be like inside her underwear, but that didn’t mean it would necessarily match my expectations.

“…Miyagi?”

Called softly, I took a breath, slowly let it out, and then slipped my hand inside her underwear.

Pushing past the stiff fabric of the denim, I advanced my fingers forward.

They reached a place I had never touched before, and my fingertips were covered in something slick.

It was sticky, different from sweat.

It clung to my fingers far more than I had imagined.

It both reassured me and unsettled me.

Sendai-san was becoming like this.

Even though I didn’t think I had done it well, the fact that Sendai-san was becoming the same way I had been in the past because of my hand shocked me so much it felt like all the blood in my body might evaporate.

I moved my fingertips.

Sendai-san’s back shifted so deeply I could tell she was taking a heavy breath.

A part of her emotions clung to my fingertips, trying to mix with me.

That was what I was doing, so it wasn’t strange. After all, I had become like that when Sendai-san touched me, so it would be troubling if she didn’t become the same. Still, I couldn’t believe she was reacting this way to my touch.

Slowly, I ran my fingers over the wet, slippery place, confirming Sendai-san’s reactions.

My fingertips were hotter than before.

Her back was hotter than before.

When I pressed my body tightly against hers, the heat was so intense it felt like my T-shirt might burn, and my breathing grew ragged. I put a little more strength into my fingertips and kissed Sendai-san’s ear. A muffled voice escaped from her. Wanting to hear a clearer sound, I bit down on her shoulder.

“Nn…”

Sendai-san let out a hoarse, pained-sounding voice.

It was very similar to the voice she had made when she had a cold, but it was far more raw than what I had heard back then, and just listening to it made me feel suffocated.

“…Does it feel good?”

I already knew the answer without asking, but the voice she made when it felt good and the voice she made when it hurt were very similar, so I couldn’t help but ask.

“Yeah… it does.”

Sendai-san’s voice was a little higher than usual, sweeter than the cheesecake we had eaten earlier.

“How much?”

“Is that… something you’d normally ask?”

Sendai-san spoke in broken fragments, but her words were clear enough for me to hear.

“I don’t know what’s normal, but answer me.”

My voice was being drawn along by Sendai-san’s, gradually becoming unlike my usual one.

“Really… a lot.”

“How much is ‘a lot’?”

“A lot… is a… lot.”

“Tell me in a way I can actually understand.”

At my words, Sendai-san let out a deep “haah” and tried to curl her back, pulling away from me. I caught hold of her T-shirt and asked again, “Tell me,” until she finally gave in. She leaned her back against me once more and answered in a voice so small it was barely audible.

“…More than… when I do it myself.”

“Eh…? …Eh?”

“Miyagi’s… is better.”

Her voice was at the very edge of audibility, so faint I could easily have missed it. Yet the words echoed through my mind far more loudly than they ever reached my ears.

I hadn’t expected an answer like that, and it wasn’t the answer I’d been looking for, so all I could do was fall into confusion. I whispered, “Sendai-san,” and wrapped my arms tightly around her.

My thoughts were in complete disarray, refusing to come together.

In this room, on this bed, Sendai-san had…

What had she been thinking? How had she done it when she was alone?

But… by herself? Really?

My attention drifted to the fingertips that were still touching her.

Heavy, murky emotions continued to well up inside me, and it felt as though my heart might stop. When I moved my finger ever so slightly, Sendai-san’s body went rigid. Even then, she said nothing, so I called her name again, “Sendai-san,” and heard a high, strained voice unlike anything I’d ever heard from her before.

“Miyagi… just… do it quietly…”

Her pained voice, so unlike her usual one, came intertwined with uneven breaths, and my own breathing unraveled to match hers. I couldn’t breathe properly.

In the darkness, the irregular sounds of my breathing and Sendai-san's echoed together.

Unable to steady my ragged breaths, I pressed my fingers against Sendai-san's body and stroked her.

My fingertips were already drowning in the wetness overflowing from her.

For how small a portion of her body it was, merely touching such a tiny spot with my fingers was enough to change her this much. Maybe anyone who touched her would make her like this, but I didn't want to think that anyone else could transform Sendai-san in this way. This body was mine alone, and I wanted to be the only one who knew Sendai-san like this.

"I can't see... so at least... let me hear your voice."

The same Sendai-san who had told me to be quiet earlier now grabbed my arm and said that.

"Voice...?"

"Call my name."

"Sendai-san."

I answered in a small voice, calling her name.

I didn't want to let her hear a voice that didn't even sound like my own, but calling her name felt good. Still, Sendai-san sounded dissatisfied as she replied, "Not that."

"Hazuki."

That name.  

That way of calling her.

It felt like something would have to be exchanged in return.

"No. I'm not calling you that."

Because I couldn't make it mine alone.

"Miyagi, you stingy jerk."

As soon as she said that, Sendai-san began calling my name over and over.

Miyagi.  

Mi-ya-gi.

The same thing had happened on this bed when I had been the one underneath her. Sendai-san had called my name again and again.

Her voice really did feel good.

Just listening to it made me feel like I was being wrapped up in Sendai-san, sinking deeper and deeper into a dark, bottomless place.

"Be quiet."

I bumped my forehead against Sendai-san's back.

"Miyagi."

"Don't call me that."

"Then I'll have to shut your mouth."

Her voice was weak, yet defiant. When I slid my finger across her lips, she bit down on it. It didn't hurt, but her tongue brushed against my fingertip, making it burn as if scalded. The moment I pulled my finger out, Sendai-san immediately called my name again.

Miyagi. Miyagi. Miyagi.

My name, called in her breathless, hoarse voice, shattered into pieces and seeped into my body, filling every gap. The fragments of my name that flowed into every corner of me stabbed at me from the inside. It stung, yet it felt so good.

Hazuki.

Instead of calling the name I couldn't say, I moved my fingers—sometimes strongly, sometimes gently—continuing to caress her.

"...N... hh, ah."

The voice that leaked out tickled my ears and sank deep into my body.

The sensations connected powerfully with that Sunday. Just like back then when she had touched me and it felt so good, my body tried to react, and I let out a breath.

My fingertips felt so hot they might melt.

The moment I stopped the slow movement of my fingers, the hand gripping my arm tightened, and she called my name again, as if begging.

I had never known this side of Sendai-san.

Her hand gripped me so tightly it was as if she wanted me.  

Her body was hotter than it had ever been before.

Her heat spread to me, warming me to my core. The wetness overflowing from her, as if trying to melt me, was driving me crazy.

I should have left the lights on after all.

I shouldn’t have covered her eyes with a towel.

Regret washed over me.

Right now, I wanted to see Sendai-san’s face—the one that existed only for me in this moment.

I didn’t want her to see mine, but I wanted to know what kind of expression she made while calling my name. I wanted to see the face she only showed me, and I wanted her to look me in the eyes as she said it. The anxiety that had taken up most of my heart melted away and vanished, condensing into a single desire: to know. I wanted to know what she was thinking and feeling as she called my name. I wanted to know everything about Sendai-san—everything from her past and everything still to come—that I didn’t yet know. I wanted her to tell me all of it, without teaching anyone else, only me.

Even the things I didn’t ask about. Even the things I couldn’t ask about. All of it.

It didn’t have to be today, but I wanted her to tell me.

“Sendai-san.”

I didn’t want to let my voice out right now.

I was sure it would sound like a voice I shouldn’t let her hear. Still, I couldn’t stop myself from calling her. I buried my face against the nape of her neck and called out again, “Sendai-san,” only to receive “Shiori” in return. The name carried a heat unlike anything before, making my chest sting and burn as if scorched. It was hard to breathe, so I moved my fingers more firmly.

“Shiori.”

Her voice crashed into me, sinking deep into my heart and becoming one with it.

The color clinging to her voice was so rich that I wanted to hear more.

I wanted her to feel even better.

Far more than I did.

The slick, wet heat coiled around my fingers, trying to pull me in, so I pressed them firmly against her. The hand that had been clinging to my arm gripped harder, nails digging in. When I bit down on the nape of her neck, teeth sinking in strongly, the nails digging into my arm tightened even more before finally sliding away. Even so, as I continued moving my fingers slowly, she called out in a rough breath, “Miyagi.”

“W-wait, st—stop.”

In a broken voice, Sendai-san tapped my arm.

“Why?”

“Why… you ask——”

Sendai-san cut her words off there, took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled before saying in a troubled tone,

“You know why, right? It’s obvious. I can’t take any more.”

Only after she said it did I finally understand that I shouldn’t continue any further.

“Sorry.”

I pulled my hand away and withdrew it from inside her underwear. When I turned the lights on, Sendai-san had curled her body up. I stared at her, but all I could see was her back; I couldn’t read her expression.

Her shoulders rising and falling slightly caught my attention, and I felt the urge to touch them.

I reached out halfway, then shifted my gaze to my own fingers.

They were far wetter than I had expected from what had overflowed from Sendai-san.

When I rubbed my fingers together, they slid slickly.

The heat was already gone, but a visible trace remained of the thing that had melted and erased my anxiety. I spread my hand open and stared at it, and the sensation of Sendai-san along with her voice came rushing back.

The residue clinging to my fingers was the lingering trace of what Sendai-san had felt, and I realized there had been no falsehood in her words when she said it had felt good. And when I imagined that the same thing had stained her fingers that Sunday, heat rose to my face.

“Miyagi?”

Perhaps because I'd stayed silent for so long, Sendai-san called my name. Without replying, I kept staring at the fingers still coated with what she'd left behind. Then Sendai-san sat up and began searching around for something. Curious, I shifted my gaze and saw that she'd moved the towel aside and was now looking straight at me.

“Miyagi, wait a second. What are you doing?”

Her voice wasn't exactly angry, but it carried a distinct note of irritation. Sendai-san climbed off the bed.

A moment later, she came back, clutching the platypus plushie.

“You always wipe this kind of thing off right away, so do it today too.”

Settling back onto the bed, Sendai-san muttered under her breath as she took hold of my arm and wiped my fingers clean. What remained of her was quickly absorbed into the tissue and disappeared, which she then tossed into the trash bin.

“I thought Miyagi hated getting your hands dirty, but I guess I was wrong?”

When I looked up at Sendai-san in response to her mildly exasperated voice, I noticed a faint flush coloring her cheeks. Her clothes were still in disarray as well, making me acutely aware once again of what we'd just been doing.

Instead of answering her question, I pressed my lips against hers.

I didn't know why I'd suddenly wanted to kiss her.

I only knew I'd wanted to touch Sendai-san's lips.

I drew back after the briefest brush of a kiss, but then Sendai-san kissed me in return. Her lips met mine with quiet certainty, and her tongue slipped into my mouth. It traced the edges of my teeth before moving as though seeking to entwine with my own. We kissed slowly and deeply, and then Sendai-san eased me back onto the bed.

“I'll make Miyagi feel good too.”

The instant my back touched the mattress, she whispered those words before capturing my lips once again.

When I rested my hand on her shoulder, the warmth from earlier still lingered there.

The tongue that parted my lips was warm as well.

It wasn't only Sendai-san. I felt the same way. My body had been burning for a while now, and I knew that if she touched me like this again, I'd lose myself even more completely than I had last time. I pushed back against the tongue trying to intertwine with mine and tapped her shoulder. Our lips parted, and Sendai-san called my name with quiet invitation.

“Miyagi.”

“You don't have to.”

When I answered firmly, Sendai-san let out a dissatisfied sound.

“Why? I want to touch you too.”

“Not now.”

“When would it be okay then?”

“I don't know, but it's impossible right now, so move.”

If she touched me any more than this, I felt like I'd end up giving in to everything, so I pushed Sendai-san away and forced myself to sit up.

“Miyagi.”

Ignoring the voice that called after me, I climbed off the bed and stood, only for the hem of my T-shirt to be tugged.

“Where are you going?”

Sendai-san asked without making any attempt to straighten her rumpled clothes. Our eyes met.

But, unusually, she was the first to look away before glancing back at me.

“......I'm going back to my room.”

“I see.”

The quiet reply fell between us, and silence settled over the room. I tried to turn away, but the hem of my T-shirt was still caught in her grasp, keeping me from moving.

“Hey, Miyagi. I...”

Her words trailed off, and I waited for whatever she was about to say.

But in the end, Sendai-san didn't say another word.

[T/N- mind you all this happened when Sendai-san is blindfolded and her back-facing miyagi, f#ck I feel shy]