That evening.
While wandering, Hazuki found a small booth tucked away on a quiet side street. A roadside izakaya with a canvas roof, a few wooden stools, and a counter where a middle-aged man tended a tiny grill.
The smoky smell of grilled meat hung in the air. Soft clinking of sake cups. A paper lantern glowed warmly, making the place feel cozy and welcoming.
Hazuki stopped and stared.
Hmm… having a drink first wouldn't hurt. Might as well enjoy myself a little before going home.
He slid onto one of the stools and let out a long sigh. The owner gave him a nod.
"Evening. What'll it be?" His voice was gruff but friendly.
Hazuki looked at the wooden board above the counter. Nothing fancy; just yakitori, oden, skewer and sake.
Exactly what I need.
"Sake, please. And some skewers." He rubbed his temples. "The strongest you've got."
The owner chuckled and poured him a cup. "Rough day?"
Hazuki drank it in one go. The sharp burn sliced through him.
"You don't know the half of it."
The owner slid a plate of skewers over, still steaming. "Take it slow. This place is for forgetting your worries, not drowning in them."
Hazuki nodded, chewing a skewer. Salty. Smoky. Simple. Exactly the comfort he needed.
"Yeah… maybe this isn't so bad." He took another sip. For a moment, he almost forgot about the ikemen squad and their perfect lives. Almost.
Then the alcohol hit harder. Loosened his tongue.
He slammed the cup down and groaned. "You know, old man! Those damn ikemen, those lucky bastards!" He slurred, waving his cup around. "The boss spoils them like kings while I can't even get a smile! Damn them! At least share a little luck with me, huh?!"
The old man chuckled softly as he poured him another cup, nodding like a therapist.
By then, Hazuki wasn't sure how much he'd had. Maybe he was tipsy.
Okay, fine. I'm definitely drunk. A little. …Alright, a lot. But hey, who's keeping track?
"And you know what else?" He leaned forward, pointing his chopsticks at the old man like they were weapons. "This isn't the first time they've stolen the spotlight! Back in college, girls lined up for them like it was some amusement park ride!"
The old man just hummed, flipping skewers on the grill. The smell made Hazuki's stomach growl, so he grabbed another one without thinking.
"And another thing! Why am I always the side character in someone else's story?! Is it my face? My vibe? What is it, old man?!"
The old man slid him another cup quietly. Hazuki drank it in one go, even though the room started to feel like it was spinning.
From there, his rant went all over the place. He complained about the ikemen, then about college days, then about overpriced brothels, and somehow started questioning the meaning of life.
"I mean, what's the point, old man? We're born, we work, we die. Some people get all the luck, good looks, talent, money falling into their laps. And the rest of us? We just… exist. Filling up space. Living paycheck to paycheck, chasing scraps of happiness. Is that really all there is? Just grinding until we're too old to enjoy anything?"
He grabbed another skewer, waving it like a philosopher's staff. "And love? Don't get me started. You see these guys who treat women like garbage, and they still get girlfriends. Meanwhile, guys like me, decent, hardworking, can't even get a text back. Where's the justice in that? Huh? Where's the balance?"
Through it all, the old man didn't miss a beat. Grill. Pour. Nod. Repeat.
"You're a good listener, old man." Hazuki swayed on his stool. "Why can't girls be like you? Huh? Huuuuuuuh?!"
The old man chuckled and gave him another skewer. "Eat. You'll feel better."
"If only life was as simple as yakitori and sake." Hazuki chewed, gulping another cup of sake in one go.
He kept drinking. Words spilling out as fast as the sake in his cup. The old man just kept listening, pouring and handing more skewers.
"You're a saint." Hazuki waved his chopsticks like he was making a toast. "If the world had more people like you, maybe it wouldn't be such a dumpster fire. More listening, less judging. More kindness, less greed. But no, we're all too busy chasing status and money to care about each other."
As he rambled, the stool a couple seats down creaked.
A younger guy sat there. Mid-twenties. Glasses. Hoodie. After ordering sake and grilled meat, he pulled out his phone and started scrolling.
At first, Hazuki ignored him. But then he heard something.
"Wait… is that anime music?" He squinted at the guy.
The guy looked up, surprised, and nodded. "Yeah, from this new isekai anime. Do you watch anime?"
Hazuki hesitated, taking another sip of sake. "Honestly? Not really."
The guy's smile faded a little. But Hazuki wasn't done. "Well… sometimes. Mostly just to keep up with work talk. Everyone's always going on about the latest shows, and I don't want to be the guy left out of the conversation. So I skim a few episodes here and there. But I never really got into it."
The guy laughed. "I get it. But man, you're missing out! Isekai's the best. Imagine getting hit by a truck and waking up in a whole new world. Magic, adventures, girls…"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Hazuki waved his hand. "Sounds great, but let's be real, that kind of stuff doesn't happen in real life. Hic~"
The guy grinned, leaning closer. "But what if it did? What if it was actually real?"
Hazuki rolled his eyes and grabbed another skewer. "If it did, I'd probably still end up as a background character. Someone who gets one line in the first episode and then never appears again. Or worse, the comic relief guy who dies early to motivate the hero."
The old man chuckled, pouring sake for both of them. The guy smiled, his phone still playing that anime tune.
Well… whatever… tonight, at least I've got some company. And I can enjoy my drinks.
(End of Chapter)