"Yamamoto-kun, thanks for coming out today."
With fifth period over, I found myself practically abducted by the party-loving guys who had invited me to the mixer earlier. One of them draped an arm over my shoulder as we marched down the street.
Honestly, I never imagined the day would come when someone like me would be invited to a mixer. Still, they had hit me up for a four-thousand-yen participation fee—a decent chunk of change—so I wasn't going to be satisfied unless I ate every cent’s worth today.
Regardless, one thing about this whole setup felt off.
"Hey, was it really okay to bring someone like me as a substitute? Surely you had better options. Someone... flashier."
"Ahaha! What’s with that, Yamamoto-kun? Getting cold feet already? Don't worry, we'll introduce you properly."
"Oh? Uh. Sure?"
The conversation wasn't even connecting. I tilted my head in confusion. Where was the actual answer to my question? This was the kind of thing that irritated me most—the vague deflection. What was he, a politician?
"...Are the girls from our school?" I asked.
"Yeah. They’re from the Faculty of Letters."
"Huh."
"They’re in our year. And there’s one girl who’s seriously cute. Oh, and don’t you dare act weird, okay? You’ll ruin our chances of ever setting up another mixer."
"Right. Understood."
"Ah, we’re almost there. Just so you know, we’re all still minors, so no alcohol, got it?"
A wholesome mixer, then. Or so I thought, until they led me into a massive chain izakaya. Well, I suppose it didn't matter as long as we didn't actually order any drinks.
I convinced myself of that and followed the group inside.
We were led to a private room with traditional floor seating. It was designed for eight people, with two rows of four facing each other. The guys took one side first.
"We can swap seats later," the brown-haired boy noted.
"Sure."
the guy who’d recruited me was surprisingly attentive, giving me a quick rundown of how things worked. But once we were settled, the group immediately devolved into their own lively chatter, leaving me isolated. Not that I minded. It would have been worse if I’d forced my way into the conversation and killed the mood before the mixer even started. Besides, technically, these guys were my saviors for helping me meet my social quota.
To kill time, I pulled out my phone and did what I always did: browsed an online shop for cleaning supplies.
"Good evening!"
A high-pitched voice suddenly rang out. The guys instantly perked up.
One. Two. Three.
Girls I recognized from somewhere began filing into the room. After a round of brief greetings, they took their seats across from us.
"Wait, where’s the fourth?"
"She said she had to stop at an ATM. She should be here any—"
"Sorry I'm late!"
"Speak of the devil."
A girl, slightly out of breath, gripped the frame of the sliding door.
"Guh."
I let out a strangled noise.
"Hey! What’s with the 'guh,' Yamamoto-kun?"
Same university. Faculty of Letters. Dammit. I should have seen this coming.
The final girl to join the mixer was...
"Ka... Kasahara."
"Yep. Hey there, Yamamoto-kun."
"W-What are you doing here?"
"Huh? I knew you were coming, you know."
"How?"
"Because we were the ones who requested you. We told them to make sure you came."
I slowly turned my head toward the guys. Every single one of them looked away, refusing to meet my eyes. It wasn't like I was planning to chew them out. I just wanted an explanation... but it seemed I wouldn't be getting one.
Looking back, it should have been obvious. They must have had plenty of other guys they could have called as a backup. Yet, they had targeted me specifically in that lecture hall. To them, my presence wasn't just optional—it was the whole point of the mixer.
"Wait, do you two know each other?" one of the guys asked.
"Eh? Oh... ahaha."
Kasahara laughed it off with uncharacteristic vagueness. Usually, she’d be the first to teasingly announce we were ex-lovers, so this was a bit strange.
"Well, it doesn't really matter, does it?"
The girl sitting next to Kasahara chimed in to back her up. Come to think of it, she was the one who had bombarded me with questions back when I ran into Kasahara in the cafeteria.
"Ehh? Come on, now I’m really curious."
"Yeah, tell us the secret, Yamagiwa-kun!"
"It’s Yamamoto-kun."
When Kasahara spoke, the atmosphere in the room suddenly turned sharp.
"...Right?"
Seeing Kasahara’s stiff smile, the rest of the group let out a series of forced, dry laughs. Well, I couldn't blame her. If you keep getting someone’s name wrong to their face, someone is bound to get annoyed eventually.
Me? That wasn't what was on my mind.
I was just thinking one thing. Just one simple thought.
...I want to go home.