I am used to being alone.
But being alone is boring.
The food doesnât taste good, and because it doesnât taste good, I canât think of anything decent to cook.
I exhale a small breath, alone in the common space.
Retort curry and cup noodles.
I have cooked rice, but eating curry makes washing dishes a hassle.
ãIâll just have a cup noodle.ã
I took one of the cup noodles I had bought and put it on the table. I boil water with the electric kettle that Sendai-san and I went to buy.
After college, Maika and Asakura-san disappeared to their part-time jobs. When I returned home, Sendai-san was not there and would not be back anytime soon. What I have is the same alone time I had in high school, and I know how to kill time like this.
I read books, play games.
I can study if I want to.
There are a lot of things I can do on my own.
In fact, thatâs how I was killing time until just now.
I take barley tea out of the refrigerator and pour it into a glass. I take a sip, place it on the table, and prepare chopsticks and a black cat chopstick rest.
I wish I wasnât hungry.
Cup noodles are not something I want to eat.
Such a feeling makes me strongly aware of Sendai-san in me, and makes me strongly believe that she is indispensable to me.
This is not good.
I squeeze my hand and open it.
Drink half a cup of barley tea.
Thinking about her in an empty house like this makes the back of my head hurt. I still canât bring myself to care about something that used to be unimportant, like food, but is no longer important.
I look at the electric kettle and see that the water is boiling. I peel off the shrink film from the cup noodles and peel off half the lid as well. I pour the hot water into the cup ramen container, set the kitchen timer, and sit down in the chair.
Sendai-san, who should be across to me, is late from her tutoring job, so I can see what I normally canât. I donât want to talk to her, but the three-minute wait is long when I am alone.
I stroke my fingernails, which are starting to get long.
I continue to pull the index finger.
I try pulling the middle finger as well.
I squeeze my fingers and exhale.
I look down at the black cat chopstick rest.
Iâm thinking that I might miss the always present tortoiseshell cat, when the kitchen timer rings and I eat a cup of noodles.
I donât think it tastes good.
A meal that only fills the stomach is still boring.
In no time at all, the container of cup noodles was nothing but soup, and after washing up, I returned to my room.
There is really nothing to do when you are alone.
I turn on the light, walk around the room, and sit on the floor with the bed as my back. I have too much free time on my hands, so I apply the lipstick that Sendai-san picked out for me. When I touch my lips, something sticky sticks to my hand. When I licked my fingertips, they tasted different from Sendai-sanâs.
I took a piece of tissue from the back of an crocodile.
I tried to wipe my lips and stop.
I picked up a flimsy piece of paper in my hand, rolled it up, and tossed it into the trash can, sighing as it fell in front of me. Picking up the gutless scrap of paper and tossing it in the trash, I take three manga from the bookshelf. Then I caught the crocodile that had been in Sendai-sanâs room all along and jumped into bed.
I donât do well with alone time.
I cannot consume time.
The barley tea in the fridge disappeared easily into my stomach, but alone time doesnât disappear easily. At any given time, an hour should be sixty minutes, but it can turn into thirty minutes or ninety minutes. Today is the day when an hour becomes ninety minutes, and Sendai-san is not coming home easily.
I understand.
I know that an hour doesnât become ninety minutes just because she is not here. Today an hour is sixty minutes, and so will tomorrow. Still, it is a long time to wait for someone else. No, the time to wait for someone else is the same.
Thatâs why, itâs infuriating.
Only Sendai-san can stall or shrink my time.
I smack the crocodile on the head and pull out the tissue.
I roll it up and throw it in the trash, but the white mass doesnât fly to the trash. Just like before, the paper scraps, which do not have wings to fly, plop down just a few feet away from the bed.
ãGutless.ã
I place the crocodile on my stomach and close my eyes.
I donât feel like going to throw the garbage in the trash.
I toss and turn.
It doesnât matter that Sendai-sanâs part-time job has increased. It doesnât matter if there is one more student. I just donât know what to do when I think there may be more in the future.
There will be more people, like students I have never seen, who will monopolize Sendai-sanâs time. I am not at all happy to see more people using Sendai-sanâs time, which is not mine, no matter how far I go.
I cover myself with the futon and curl up.
Time passes without me being able to doze off, and then I hear two knocks on the door.
ãMiyagi.ã
A pleasant voice calls me.
But I donât want to get out of the futon.
ãAre you not there?ã
Of course I am here.
How can I not be here?
ãMiyagi, Iâll open this, okay?ã
Saying this, she doesnât open the door.
Sendai-san will not come in unless I say yes.
ãHave you eaten dinner?ã
She asks again from outside the door.
The well behaved Sendai-san keeps asking me at the door and I canât leave her alone. After placing the alligator on the floor and tossing the fallen trash into the trash can, I announced,ãCome in,ãand the door opened.
ãIâve already eaten.ã
When I sat down on the bed to answer, Sendai-san sat down next to me as a matter of course.
ãWhat did you eat?ã
ãâ¦Cup noodles.ã
ãDidnât you say something like that yesterday? You should cook and eat, even if itâs not random.ã
ãItâs fine. It was just cup noodles.ã
ãNot good. Itâs bad for you. Eat something more decent.ã
ãIâm alone, and I canât be bothered to cook.ã
ãThen wait until I get home. Iâll make you something.ã
ãSendai-san comes home late and Iâm hungry.ã
Iâm not such a terrible person as to make Sendai-san, who works part-time, go out of her way to cook dinner for me, and I think she should leave me alone because even a cup of ramen will fill my stomach. Besides, if she care so much about my food, she doesnât have to work part-time.
ãI see.ã
Sendai-san says quietly and looks at me intently.
ãMiyagi.ã
She calls me in a soft voice and smiles at me. I slapped her hand and she said happily,ãYou put on the lipstick,ãto which I replied coldly,ãWhatâs the matter with that?ã
ãYouâre cute.ã
Sendai-san only says what she doesnât want me to say in these situations. Iâm so annoyed that she doesnât get her way that I grab my clothes and pull them on. I press my lips against hers and bite just enough to not hurt her.
ãThat hurt.ã
Sendai-san says deliberately as I pull my face away from her. Then she pulls her lips together as if it were a rule to do so, and she push my body closer.
ãDo it one more time.ã
Closing the distance between us, Sendai-san whispers to me.
ãI donât want to.ã
ãStingy.ã
As if to deny the words heard, I kick Sendai-san in the leg.
What I want to hear from her is neither the word âcuteâ nor these lines.
ãâ¦In Sunday.ã
I blurt out and kick her foot again.
ãSunday?ã
ãYou donât have a part-time job on that day, do you?ã
As I ask the question, I regret asking it.
ãI have none.ã
Touching Sendai-sanâs blue earrings.
My regret does not disappear.
Still, the words I wanted to swallow come out.
ãâ¦Iâll go somewhere with you.ã
I blurted out and looked at Sendai-san, who looked like she was about to say,ãWhere?ãI kissed her lips.