I was Thrown into an Unfamiliar Manga

“I like you.”
The confession Minato made the very moment fireworks burst in the sky.

Honestly speaking, I could’ve pretended not to hear it—just like in any typical romcom.
The fireworks were loud enough, after all.
But could I really ignore a confession she’d mustered up the courage to make?

More than anything, I was curious.
Why would Minato, who I’ve only met a few times, say she liked me?
“Why… do you like me?”

I asked directly, and Minato, looking slightly flustered, fumbled her words.
“W-Well, you’re kind, and cool, and…”
“And?”

“Your muscles… are amazing…”
As soon as she said it, her face flushed red with embarrassment.
That last part was probably what she really meant.

I already knew she was seriously into muscles.
If that fondness had developed into affection for me, then it wasn’t completely nonsensical.
Honestly, I had been a little worried.

If she’d fallen for me without any reason, it would’ve meant my worst fears had come true.
In a way, it was better that she had a clear reason.
But that was one thing—this was another.

“Sorry, but… I don’t think I can accept those feelings.”
I told her clearly.
Minato’s expression fell in shock.
She bit her lip and asked,

“Can I… ask why?”
I scratched my head and replied.
“Well, to be honest, I’ve never thought of you as more than a junior. I mean, yeah, we texted a lot, but we haven’t actually met that many times, right?”

I could probably count how many times I’d met her in person on two hands.
The rest was all through our phones.
Minato quickly responded,

“Then… couldn’t we slowly get to know each other?”
“You have time for that?”
“Ugh…”

Minato clammed up at my retort.
Probably because even she couldn’t argue with it.
Unlike me—a regular high schooler—she’s a nationally beloved actress.

Of course she’d spend more time outside than at school.
Even if we started dating recklessly, we’d hardly have time to see each other. And from her side, it’d just be taking on the risk of scandal.
“There’s no reason to screw up your future just to date someone like me.”

“But—!”
I gently said to Minato, who still seemed unsatisfied,
“Also… honestly, I never thought you’d confess. We haven’t spent much time together at all.”

“Time isn’t important when you fall in love!”
“That might be true.”
I agreed with her on that much—but then smiled bitterly.

“But it is important to me.”
And that was the end of it.
Minato lowered her head and didn’t say anything for a while.

She’d worked up the courage to confess and got flat-out rejected. That must’ve been hard.
Honestly, I’d never confessed to someone before, so I didn’t even know how to comfort her.
Before I realized it, the fireworks were nearly over.

When the last bursts of light faded from the sky, everyone would be heading home.
As I stood awkwardly, not sure what to do or say, Minato suddenly lifted her head, eyes determined.
“I… won’t give up.”

“…What?”
A reaction I hadn’t expected at all.
But she stared straight into my eyes and declared, pausing between each word as if chewing them over carefully.

“I will make you look my way. Next time, you’ll accept my confession.”
Honestly, it was kinda scary.
Normally when a confession gets rejected during a scene like this, you’re supposed to walk away gracefully, aren’t you?

But instead of giving up, she was even more fired up.
Eventually, she said it was time to go back.
“Oh? O-Okay.”

Minato, acting way too bold for someone who’d just been turned down, walked confidently, and I followed her down the hill in a daze.
***
When Minato and I came down from the hill, Rika, Sasha, and Karen were all still there, waiting for us.

As their eyes turned toward her, Minato gave a smug little laugh and said,
“Today was my loss. But I’m not giving up on becoming Senpai’s girlfriend, so I’ll be around a lot more from now on.”
At that, the three girls all visibly let out a sigh of relief.

It was obvious now—they weren’t even trying to hide the fact that they liked me anymore.
Honestly, I knew it was too good for me, but I never imagined I’d be this popular all of a sudden.
If this was all just fallout from getting tangled in the original story, I still felt weird about it… but at least it didn’t feel completely baseless.

If it really had been baseless, I probably wouldn’t have been able to accept it.
“The fireworks are over, so let’s head home.”
“Sure.”

“That sounds best.”
“I’m tired.”
“Let’s go.”

As soon as I said it, the four of them all agreed at once.
The chaotic summer festival night came to a close just like that.
***

July, thick with sweltering heat, passed—and before I ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) knew it, it was August.
At the festival last time, things almost got messy between everyone, but somehow we’d managed to get through it.
I’d dodged a bullet, but next week, the D Group was going on a trip to the beach together.

That meant I’d be seeing Rika, Sasha, and Karen again—and I couldn’t say for sure how that would go.
I couldn’t keep pretending not to notice their feelings forever.
I guess this is why most romcom protagonists are written as emotionally dense.

I knew they were all good people, and I personally liked each of them, which made it impossible to choose one.
At this rate, I wasn’t any better than someone stringing people along.
Putting aside the headaches from this complicated love situation, I was helping my parents at the restaurant today, working hard.

The radio was on in the background, and I happened to catch a news segment:
[The winner of the 7th GOF held recently in the U.S., Li Mei Ling, has arrived at Narita International Airport today. Li Mei Ling, widely considered the pinnacle of martial artists worldwide—]
“Come to think of it… I wonder what happened to Ivan.”

I’d heard he went back to his home country with his daughter Sasha during Golden Week, but I hadn’t seen or heard from him since.
He must’ve recovered by now, right? Hopefully he wasn’t still raging and plotting revenge or something.
Back then, I’d only managed to beat him thanks to senior Fuma’s assistance—if I had to face him again, I wasn’t confident I’d win.

Clatter!
I cleared off the table where a customer had just left and brought the dishes to the kitchen.
Since the lunch rush had just ended, most of the tables were a mess.

Just clearing plates and wiping down tables took a fair amount of time.
I was working so hard, running back and forth between the kitchen and dining area, I even forgot to eat.
That’s when it happened.

Someone lifted the noren curtain at the front of the restaurant and stepped inside.
“Welcome!”
“Can… eat… food?”

The new customer was a tall woman—a rare sight in Japan.
Speaking Japanese with a halting accent, she asked me if she could eat here.
She looked Asian, but not exactly Korean—so there was only one real option left.

“Yes, we’re open. Please come this way.”
Most likely a Chinese tourist.
I brought over the photo menu we use for foreigners and asked,

“What would you like to order?”
Without much hesitation, the woman replied,
“Grilled meat. A lot.”

“Got it.”
Even through her clothes, her well-defined muscles were obvious—she clearly did an intense amount of training on the regular.
Is she a professional fighter or something?

Otherwise, no average person could have a physique like that.
Almost like a female powerlifter who trains professionally.
I told Dad we had a yakiniku customer, then brought out the side dishes and personal grill to her table.

Seeing everything being set up quickly and smoothly, she looked delighted.
Must’ve been pretty hungry.
Thinking she might struggle with Japanese, I tried asking:

“Can you speak English?”
At that, the woman looked startled—then smiled brightly and nodded.
“Yes, I can.”

As expected—English.
Rather than struggling through bad Japanese, it was faster to just switch to the universal language.
After that, I answered all her questions and gave her polite service.

Eventually, Dad came out of the kitchen with plates of pork belly and pork shoulder.
I took the plates and served them to her, asking,
“What brings you to Japan?”

The woman, clearly excited about the meat, gulped visibly—but still answered my question earnestly.
“There’s a man I absolutely must meet.”
“A man you must meet?”

When I asked, the Chinese woman nodded firmly and said,
“Yes. A Korean named Kim Yu-seong.”