It happened without warning.
One moment, Hachiman Hikigaya was zoning out at his desk, the classroom buzzing faintly with the same meaningless chatter as always. The cultural festival still lingered in the air like cigarette smoke in Hiratsuka-sensei's car. His reputation was in shambles after the fake confession with Ebina, his points with humanity at an all-time low, and his motivation to keep going hovering somewhere between "nonexistent" and "please let me hibernate until graduation."
Then, in a blink, the classroom disappeared.
He found himself sitting at a booth in a restaurant.
At first, he thought he'd blacked out and woken up at Saizeriya after Komachi had dragged him along. But no — the atmosphere was different. Too polished. Too clean. Too staged.
The restaurant stretched on endlessly, lined with booths and tables, warm lighting casting golden glows over polished wood. There were menus neatly tucked into every holder, glasses set perfectly, even the faint smell of fried food lingering.
But there were no waiters. No windows. No doors. No sound.
Just them.
"…Eh?!"
The first scream belonged to Yui Yuigahama. She clutched the laminated menu against her chest like a bulletproof vest. "Wh-what?! Where are we?!" Her wide eyes darted around, scanning every table.
Yukino Yukinoshita sat across from her, spine straight, blue eyes narrowed. "This… isn't the school. Nor anywhere recognizable." Her voice was calm, but the way her fingers pressed against the edge of the table betrayed the tightness in her chest.
"Yo, what the hell is going on?!" Yumiko Miura shrieked. She nearly tripped over her chair before catching Hayato Hayama's sleeve. "Hayato!"
"I'm here," Hayama said gently. His smile was intact, but brittle, like glass under pressure. His eyes flicked across the room, scanning everyone. "Everyone… is here."
And indeed, everyone was.
Ebina Hina leaned casually on her booth, grin trembling somewhere between thrill and nerves. Saki Kawasaki sat stiff, arms folded, glaring at nothing in particular. Yoshiteru Zaimokuza had already stood, one boot on the chair like some warlord surveying his domain. Isshiki Iroha smacked her phone repeatedly, her pout growing deeper with every "no service" error.
And of course — because fate hated him — two more figures sat like VIPs at a corner booth.
Shizuka Hiratsuka-sensei, arms crossed, eyes sharp, her fingers drumming against the table like she was waiting for the waiter to bring her beer. And next to her, Haruno Yukinoshita, lounging with all the grace of a cat in sunlight, her sharp smile trained directly on her sister.
"Ohhh, now this is interesting," Haruno purred, chin resting in her palm. "Yukino-chan, did you plan a group dinner without inviting me?"
"Of course not!" Yukino snapped, cheeks coloring. "Don't be absurd."
Hachiman groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "…Great. I got isekai'd into a Denny's."
Before anyone could argue, a low hum rattled the restaurant speakers.
And then, a voice — calm, mechanical, and authoritative — filled the air.
"Welcome. You have been gathered here to participate in a Question-and-Answer session."
The room froze.
"…Excuse me?" Hiratsuka muttered, eyeing the ceiling as though she could punch the speakers into silence.
"All participants are safe. You cannot be harmed here. There are no punishments for failure. Only rewards for correct answers."
"R-rewards?" Yui squeaked, squeezing her menu.
"Correct. You will be asked questions about those present in this restaurant. If answered correctly, the group will receive a reward. Wrong answers carry no consequence. After the session concludes, you will be returned to your world."
Chaos.
"Wait, wait, wait—what kind of creepy quiz show is this?!" Yumiko shrieked, slamming her palm on the table.
"This is… the banquet of heroes!" Zaimokuza roared, pointing skyward. His cloak fluttered dramatically, though the air was perfectly still. "Summoned to a feast where destinies intertwine!"
"…Oh god," Hachiman muttered.
"Shut up, Zaimokuza!" Yumiko snapped.
"No, no, let him finish!" Ebina leaned forward, grinning wide. "This is like the perfect BL set-up — a mysterious restaurant, everyone trapped together… love confessions incoming!"
"Please don't," Hachiman said flatly.
Iroha stomped her foot, pigtails bouncing. "N-no way! This is, like, sooo unfair! I didn't even wanna be here! Why is it always about Hikki-senpai anyway?!"
"Because you whined your way into relevance," Kawasaki muttered.
"Ruuude!" Iroha squeaked.
"Accurate," Kawasaki replied.
Iroha clung to Hayama's arm. "Hayama-senpai, do something!"
Hayama gave her a helpless smile. "I don't think this is something I can solve, Isshiki."
"Useless!" Iroha puffed her cheeks.
Ebina clapped her hands. "This is better than TV! Secrets, drama, revelations — and we don't even have to pay the bill!"
"…You don't pay bills on TV either," Hachiman muttered.
Haruno chuckled, swirling her water glass. "This is delicious already. Watching Yukino-chan's face crack? Worth the price of admission."
"Stop speaking nonsense," Yukino snapped, though her ears were faintly pink.
"Aw, don't be shy, Yukino-chan."
"…This is worse than a group project," Hachiman said, slumping into the booth. "At least group projects come with snacks. Here, I don't even see a waiter."
"Don't tempt fate," Hiratsuka muttered. "If a robot server rolls out, I'm not paying the tip."
The hum returned, louder, vibrating through the tabletops.
"The first question will be posed shortly. Remember: no punishments. Only rewards."
Silence fell instantly.
Hachiman shoved his hands in his pockets, muttering. "…Fantastic. Dinner theater starring me as the unwilling main act. Youth really is a disease."
The ceiling lights dimmed slightly, as though the restaurant itself wanted drama.
"First question…"
Everyone tensed.
"…How many people in this restaurant have fallen in love with Hachiman Hikigaya?"
The silence was absolute.
Yui squeaked, nearly dropping her menu. Yukino's eyes widened, composure cracking. Hiratsuka gave a low whistle. Haruno's grin sharpened. Ebina burst into delighted laughter. Kawasaki flushed red. Yumiko looked like she'd swallowed a lemon whole.
And Hachiman—
He went rigid, pale as the tablecloth. "…Nope. I'm leaving."
"You can't leave," Yukino said firmly.
"Then I'll choke on a toothpick."