"Welcooome! Three guests today, right?!? Please come this waaay!" The moment the automatic doors slid open with a mechanical hiss, the service staff’s overly cheerful voice assaulted them like a physical blow. The greeting was a practiced, high-pitched chirp, honed through thousands of repetitions until it was devoid of anything but professional obligation.

  The interior was a sanctuary of mundane Japanese life. Bright fluorescent lights, unchanging whether it was noon or midnight, bathed the room in a sterile, white glow that made the cheap vinyl of the booths gleam with a sickly sheen. The air was heavy—a thick, slightly greasy cocktail of recycled ventilation, burnt hamburger sauce, and the cloying scent of deep-fryer oil that seemed to cling to the skin.

  Everywhere else, the restaurant was alive with the hum of normalcy. Salarymen loosened their ties over maps of spreadsheets, students huddled over shared plates of fries and textbooks, and families managed the chaotic energy of toddlers. Yet, as the three of them walked through the aisles, a vacuum of silence followed in their wake.

  "…Yes. Three." Yu managed a weak. His throat felt like it had been lined with sandpaper. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was bone-dry. Beside him, Rize and Claval were two poles of an impossible magnet, and he was the iron filing being torn apart in the center.

  "Please take any open table you like?! Drinks are unlimited at the Drink Bar?!" the service staff said.

  "Heh. So this is one of your world’s dining halls," Rize murmured. Her voice was low, controlled, and sharp enough to cut through the ambient noise of clattering silverware. She didn't look like a girl out for a meal; she looked like a general assessing a battlefield for hidden snipers. Her eyes scanned the perimeter, lingering on the exits before settling on a target. "…That table. There. The box seat in the corner."

  She pointed toward a deep, U-shaped booth tucked into the farthest reaches of the smoking-turned-non-smoking section. To Yu, it didn't look like a comfortable place to eat. It looked like a high-walled prison cell designed to ensure the occupant couldn't bolt for the door.

  ?

  "Yu? Sit in the back." Rize’s command was soft, but it carried the weight of an unbreakable law. There was no room for refusal. Yu felt the slight, firm pressure of Rize’s hand on his shoulder, guiding—or perhaps shoving—him into the very corner of the booth. He slid across the cold vinyl until his back hit the wall.

  Rize and Claval sat down simultaneously, flanking the exit. They sat side by side, a united front of interrogation. Yu was the accused; they were the tribunal. Under the harsh, flickering lights of the restaurant, the contrast between them was blinding. Claval’s silver hair shimmered with an ethereal, unnatural luster that made the surrounding decor look drab and dusty. She leaned back, a languid, confident smile playing at the corners of her lips, her eyes dancing with a playful malice.

  Rize, conversely, was a statue of suppressed tension. She didn't lean back. She sat with her spine perfectly straight, her silence felt like a sheathed sword placed deliberately on the table between them.

  Yu curled his shoulders inward, trying to occupy as little space as possible. He felt exactly like a boyfriend caught in the middle of a catastrophic cheating scandal—which, given the magical circumstances of his life, wasn't far from the truth. Desperate for any distraction, he grabbed the laminated menu, his eyes darting across the colorful photos of Salisbury steaks and pasta as if they contained the secrets of survival.

  "This is the Drink Bar menu?! All-you-can-drink soft drinks and premium coffee?!" the service staff chirped, reappearing with a stack of water glasses. "Today’s recommendations are the Mixed Grill and our signature Cheese-In Hamburger?!" The service staff’s theatrical cheerfulness was almost grotesque in the face of the silence radiating from the booth. She gestured energetically at the menu, her smile wide and unblinking.

  "If you’ve decided on your order, please press the bell?! Tonight only, fried chicken is double size?!" The three of them only offered a cold, rhythmic nod. Her professional mask flickered for a fraction of a second, her smile faltering as she finally registered the killing intent localized entirely within this specific booth. "E-Enjoy your meal?!" the service staff stammered, retreating faster than she had approached.

  Only the oversized menu and three glasses of water remained. A generic Pops played over the speakers, its upbeat tempo mocking the crushing atmosphere. Yu’s sweaty hand stuck unpleasantly to the laminated plastic of the menu.

  I’m going to die here, he thought. I survived but a family restaurant is where it finally ends.

  ?

  "Have you decided on your order??" The service staff returned sooner than expected, her voice bordering on a plea to just get this over with. She hovered at the edge of the table, notepad trembling slightly.

  Yu’s hand twitched. He almost raised it to order a safe, neutral melon soda, but Rize’s arm shot out like a piston, pinning his sleeve to the table.

  "Fried Potatoes," Rize said. Her voice was icy, clipped, and left no room for follow-up questions.

  "Then I’ll have a Chocolate Mousse Parfait. With extra cream, please?" Claval shrugged playfully, flipping through the dessert section with a delicate finger. The tone was far too carefree, a honeyed sweetness that only served to sharpen the tension. It was the sound of someone who knew they were winning a game the other person didn't even know they were playing.

  "H-huh… y-yes," the service staff said, scribbling frantically. She turned his desperate gaze toward Yu. "And for the gentleman?"

  "…Three… three drink bars…" Yu’s voice was barely a whisper, a ghost of a sound that struggled to escape his constricted throat.

  "Certainly?!" The service staff fled. She didn't walk; she practically sprinted back toward the safety of the kitchen. What she left behind was a table soaked in the stagnant heat of an impending explosion.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  ?

  "…So. Even crossing into this world, what exactly did you come here for?" Rize placed her elbows on the table, leaning forward until she was well within Claval’s personal space. She stared straight into the other woman’s eyes, her gaze as sharp as a ritual dagger.

  "For Yu, obviously." Claval tilted her head, inspecting her perfectly manicured nails with an air of bored elegance.

  "…!" Yu swallowed hard. The sound of his own gulp seemed to echo through the entire restaurant. He couldn't find the words. He started tracing meaningless circles on the wood-grain pattern of the table with a shaky finger, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.

  "I went clothes shopping with Yu the other day. In this world. It was quite the experience. Tell me, Rize, did the dress he picked out suit you? I felt it was a bit... daring." Claval tucked a stray strand of silver hair behind her ear and smiled. It was a light, airy expression that didn't reach her predatory eyes. The tone was casual, but the content was a serrated knife to the heart.

  "Yu. Is that true?" Rize asked. Her eyes narrowed until they were mere slits.

  "N-no—! I mean—yes, we went, but it wasn't like that—it was just—really—!" Yu’s throat locked. His stuttering only made the air heavier. It was a confession wrapped in a denial, and both women knew it. Claval’s smile widened, her lips curling into a triumphant crescent.

  "And we kissed, too. Didn't we, Yu?" Claval leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that seemed to bypass the ears and go straight into the brain.

  Yu froze. The world seemed to stop. The chatter of the nearby tables, the clink of tableware, the distant siren from the street—everything faded into a dull, grey blur. The water in his glass wasn't just trembling anymore; it was practically jumping. She said it. Claval actually said it in front of Rize.

  A group of teenagers at the next table burst into raucous laughter over an oversized pizza, the sound jarringly normal. The juxtaposition made their own table feel like a pocket dimension, a gravity well of doom where the laws of physics were being rewritten by spite.

  Rize said nothing. Her silence was more terrifying than any scream. It was the silence of a collapsing star. She didn't look at Claval; she kept her eyes fixed on Yu, and he felt like he was being dissected under a microscope.

  Then— "Thanks for the wait?! One Basket of Fries!" The service staff’s cheerful cry shattered the tension like a hammer through glass. She arrived with a flourish, placing a mountain of golden, glistening fries in the center of the table with exaggerated friendliness. "Ketchup and mustard are over there at the self-service station?? Please enjoy!"

  Yu almost reached out to grab the service staff’s apron. Don't leave me! Stay here and talk about the ketchup! But she bowed with professional grace and vanished back into the fray. The fries sat there, steam rising in thin, mocking curls. The silence returned, now scorching.

  "Yu is with me. He is my partner, my anchor." Rize spoke first, her voice a low, dangerous thrum.

  "Oh, but see? Yu hasn’t denied a single word. Silence is its own kind of invitation, don't you think?" Claval picked up a single fry with two fingers, inspecting it as if it were a rare artifact.

  Both of their gazes stabbed into him simultaneously. Yu felt himself shrinking, his physical form feeling no larger than a coin on the seat.

  ?

  Silence reigned again. Clink. The sound of melting ice shifting in Yu’s glass sounded like a thunderclap in the quiet booth.

  "Hey, Rize. I’ve been wondering something. Have you and Yu… slept together?" Claval leaned her chin on her hand, her expression softening into something deceptively gentle. Her eyes, however, remained as sharp as needles.

  CRACK. The sound of Yu’s chopstick snapping echoed through the booth. He forgot how to breathe. A cold sweat broke out across his forehead, and he scanned the restaurant in a blind panic, certain that every grandmother and student in the building was now staring at them. But the world moved on, indifferent to his execution.

  "…Curious, are you?" Rize’s eyes flickered, a momentary break in her armor. Then, she did something unexpected. She smiled—faintly, a grim, warrior’s smile.

  "Very. I’d like to know who really shares his side when the lights go out." Claval leaned forward, her interest piqued, her playful facade slipping to reveal the hunger beneath.

  "Then… shall I show you? Right here? Or would you prefer a more private demonstration of what he belongs to?" Rize leaned back, crossing her arms. It wasn't a defensive posture; it was regal, the stance of a queen presiding over a messy court.

  "R-Rize!? What are you—" Yu’s heart skipped a beat, then began racing at a suicidal pace. But her cold stare snapped toward him, silencing him instantly. It wasn't just anger; it was a claim.

  "Ooh… a scary girl. I like that. I really do." Claval giggled, a silvery, melodic sound that felt entirely out of place in the greasy diner.

  Sparks practically crackled in the air between them, a literal manifestation of their mana clashing in the unseen spectrum. Yu realized with a sinking heart that he was no longer a participant in this conversation. He was scenery. He was the prize at the end of a very violent race.

  "Yu. Stay quiet," Rize commanded, her voice a sharpened blade.

  "Yes, Yu. Just listen. Our talking." Claval immediately echoed the sentiment, her eyes never leaving Rize’s.

  He nodded like a chastised child, staring down at the cooling fries.

  ?

  The too-bright lights felt like spotlights on a stage set in the deepest circle of hell. Around them, life continued in its agonizingly normal trajectory. A bell chimed as another customer entered. A baby cried in the distance. The kitchen staff shouted orders. Only their table burned at a different temperature, a localized sun of social catastrophe.

  "Yu is important to me. I won’t give him up to a memory," Rize said, her voice trembling with the weight of steel.

  "I never planned to give him up to begin with." Claval dabbed her lips with a paper napkin, her movements precise and elegant. It was a declaration of war, delivered with the cadence of a nursery rhyme.

  "…Fine. You love him. I can admit that much. And looking at that face of yours… I suppose I can’t have him all to myself, can I?" Rize sighed deeply, a long, weary sound that seemed to drain some of the immediate violence from the air. She reached out, picked up a fry, and crushed it between her fingers instead of eating it.

  "I don’t mind sharing. At first, I thought I’d just steal him away and leave this world behind, but…" Claval’s smile brightened, losing some of its predatory edge and becoming something more genuinely amused.

  "Being loved by someone so kind of… changed everything?" She tapped her lips playfully, looking at Yu’s crimson face.

  Yu was stone. A statue of pure, concentrated embarrassment. Breathing had become an optional task he was currently failing.

  "You’re shameless," Rize muttered, though the lethality had faded into a sharp, exasperated annoyance.

  "Well, I’m thirsty," Claval said, standing up with a graceful swish of her skirt that seemed to catch the light. "All this posturing is exhausting. The Drink Bar is this way. Come on, Rize. I want to see if this 'Melon Soda' is as toxic as it looks."

  Rize stood up too, smoothing out her clothes.

  "Ah, um—c-could you bring something for me—" Yu tried to interject, his voice cracking.

  "" Yu, be quiet!! "" The two voices overlapped with terrifying synchronization. Rize and Claval didn't even look back at him. They walked off together toward the drink station.

  Yu remained alone in the booth, staring at the cooling mountain of fries. He pressed his palm to his forehead, feeling the lingering heat of his own panic. This was hell. A real, undeniable, all-you-can-drink hell with a side of ketchup.