At the end of our joined hands, Sendai-san is noisy.
Iâm trying to figure out what to say, but sheâs talking so much that I canât think straight.
Like the story of that tortoiseshell cat that Sendai-san often meets.
Or the not-so-sweet French toast we had for lunch.
The blanks are filled with innocuous stories chosen from a number of topics, my head is filled, and I have nothing to say. All I can do is make small talk.
We get on the train, we get off the train.
The sun loses its power and the sky changes color.
.
Walking down the cat-free sidewalk, the house approaches.
Sendai-san continues to talk about safe and sound.
Itâs not that I have to speak, but when I have nothing to do but to phase, I am concerned about the fact that I have seen a face I didnât need to know and another student or some other person I have yet to see.
Sendai-sanâs voice is not stuck in my head.
All that remains is the feeling of wanting to turn away.
Whether at the front door, unlocking the door, or taking off her shoes, Sendai-san continues to talk nonsense.
ãMiyagi, are you listening?ã
As soon as I enter the common space, I hear Sendai-sanâs gentle voice.
When I repliedãyes,ãwondering whether I should go to my room or not, Sendai-san put her luggage on the table as a matter of course. Then she start boiling water in the electric kettle. Two mugs are placed on the table, and I sigh and prepare a tea bag of tea.
ãMiyagi, you knowâ¦ã
Without sitting down in her chair, Sendai-san comes next to me and looks at me.
I want to cover my ears to hear her voice, which is not light. I think it would be uninteresting if I answered, but I have lost the timing to go to my room.
ãâ¦What?ã
I have no choice but to speak up and stare at the mug.
ãIâm sorry for today.ã
What the apology is for is being withheld.
However, I somehow understood what she was apologizing for.
ãThatâs nothing for you to apologize for, Sendai-san. You donât have to apologize twice.ã
Perhaps I was toldãsorryãabout the girl I met at the grocery store who had the title of âSendai-sanâs student.â
ãIâd better apologize.ã
ãWhy do you think so?ã
ãBecause youâre angry, Miyagi.ã
ãIâm not angry.ã
ãEven if I also told her a lot of things about you, Miyagi?ã
ãI donât care about that.ã
I am curious about the details of âa lot of things,â but if I ask about them, I am sure that Sendai-san will tell me about the girl. It is only painful to hear Sendai-sanâs voice talking about things I donât want to hear.
ãMiyagi, donât you like KikyÅ-chan?ã
ãItâs not like that.ã
She is not a being that I would classify as like or dislike or anything like that. I donât want to categorize her either way, and I donât want to think about her.
ãâ¦Then, perhapsâ¦ã
The voices I hear are a little quieter.
I have a bad feeling about this and shift my gaze from the mug to Sendai-san.
ãIf youâre in bad mood, then youâre jealoââã
ãI didnât, I should go to my room now.ã
I took the words she was about to say and denies them.
Her tutoring job has nothing to do with me.
So it has nothing to do with her students either.
Sendai-sanâs part-time job is not something I should interfere with, so there is no need to be picky or apologize.
I donât know what to say again when someone says something that digs up something I am trying to forget. Itâs like a whisk mixing in my head the things I enjoyed today and the things I didnât enjoy, and my emotions get lost in the mix. Itâs not nice to keep getting mixed up with feelings that I want to separate.
ãWhat about tea?ã
Sendai-san quietly says.
ãIâll take it.ã
ãWill you make one for me too?ã
ãIâll leave it in front of your room, Sendai-san.ã
ãWhy donât you just drink here with me?ã
ãIâm not doing it.ã
I reply in a cold voice to Sendai-san, who smiles softly. Still, she does not change her expression. She speaks to me in a soft voice.
ãIâd rather have a drink with you, Miyagi.ã
ãIf Sendai-san is here, Iâll go to my room.ã
ãDonât say that, just sit down.ã
Before I can turn my back on her, she grabs my arm and pulls me back. It is not that strong, but I can feel her will not to allow me to go to my room. But that doesnât mean I have to follow Sendai-sanâs words.
ãI donât want to.ã
I answered shortly and peeled off the hand attached to my arm, but Sendai-san did not give up. She pulled up a chair, patted its back, and chuckled again.
ãSit down and Iâll do whatever you like, Miyagi.ã
ãWhatâs that?ã
ãYou like having your feet licked, donât you?ã
Sendai-san looked at me, as if deciding what to say.
ãI donât like it. The waterâs boiled. Why donât you make some tea?ã
ãSince youâre wearing a skirt, donât be shy.ã
Sendai-san, who wanted to have tea with me, abandoned what she had to do and returned the conversation to a place where it didnât need to be returned.
ãThe skirt has nothing to do with it.ã
ãYes, it is. Itâs easier to lick your feet in a skirt, isnât it?ã
When I say this, Sendai-san pushes my shoulders and forces me to sit in a chair.
Annoying.
Really annoying.
I tried to get up from the chair I didnât want to sit in, but Sendai-san kneeled on the floor faster than that.
This has happened many times in the past.
I sat Sendai-san down on the floor and let her lick my feet.
Itâs a memory that can be easily retrieved, even when my mind is stirred up, a memory I will never forget.
ãYou donât have to do anything unnecessary, just get up.ã
Itâs not an order, but I order Sendai-san to kick her legs.
ãI donât have to stand up.ã
ãItâs not fine.ã
I kick Sendai-san again and she grabs my leg painfully. When I strongly told her toãget off me,ãwhich rarely happened in these situations, her hands didnât leave me, but rather my skirt was rolled up to my knees.
ãWhat are you doing?ã
Instead of a reply, her lips attach to my knee. They are soft, raw and warm, and surprisingly comfortable on my leg. Still, I cannot accept her lips.
ãStop.ã
I donât think I want Sendai-san to touch me when Iâm in a mood like today. But she wonât stop. Her lips are pressed against my knee and the tip of her tongue touches. Lips lick up, lips part, touch again.
ãSendai-san!ã
I call her hard and tug at her bangs, and her lips part. Sendai-san looks up and smiles.
ãYour voice is too loud. You donât have to call out so loud to be heard.ã
ãIf you heard me, donât do it.ã
ãIf you want me to stop, why donât you ask me to stop?ã
ãAbsolutely not.ã
ãI knew youâd say that.ã
ãStop it.ã
ãI absolutely hate it too.ã
ãSendai-san!ã
When I called again strongly, her fingertips touched my knee. Her finger crawls to trace where her lips touched and licks there.
ãIt feels weird.ã
ãYou must be mistaken about feeling it good, right?ã
Without looking up, Sendai-san said and kissed my knees. Her fingertips took the liberty of removing my socks and stroking my ankles.
ãWhy do you do these things?ã
I push on Sendai-sanâs head and her body leaves me. But soon she grabs my leg. Fingers crawl on my calf, lips touch the back of my leg, and the tip of her tongue.
The kisses are repeated many times, and tongues crawl.
It feels bad, and it feels good.
Her body heat reminds me of things I donât want to remember, along with the past I was commanding.
Sendai-san on the bed.
Her body temperature mingling with mine.
ââNo.
This is not something I recall right now.
ãSendai-san, please answer me.ã
I have yet to hear why she does these things.
ãâ¦Because youâre in a bad mood, Miyagi.ã
Sendai-san looks up, blurting out something.
ãNot bad. Just not good.ã
ãItâs the same, right?ã
ãItâs not the same, and you donât care if Iâm in a good mood or not.ã
ãIâm just trying to get your mood better.ã
ãLicking my feet wonât make it better.ã
ãThen, what should I do?ã
Sendai-san said in a voice neither soft nor hard.