I was Thrown into an Unfamiliar Manga

The long-awaited Saturday.
It was the day I’d promised to go to the festival with Minato Naoya, my first-year junior.

But she contacted me in the morning and asked if we could postpone it by just one day.
[Senpai! I’m so sorry! My mom suddenly scheduled an important casting meeting, so I don’t think I can make it today! Would tomorrow be okay instead?]
Well, if that’s how it was, what could I say?

I told her it was fine, though I couldn’t bring myself to tell her I already had plans tomorrow.
And then—
[Kim Yu-seong, if you’re free tomorrow, would you come to the festival with me? I’ve already secured Karen. She wasn’t up for it at first, but as soon as I mentioned you were coming, she said she’d go too.]

An unexpected invitation from Sasha to the same festival.
Amazingly, the festivals proposed by Minato, Rika, and Sasha… were all the same one.
Which meant it wasn’t just double-booked—it was a full-blown triple-booking.

And the result—
“Senpai!”
“Ryuu-chan!”

“Kim Yu-seong!”
Three separate groups who had all contacted me independently… now stood face-to-face in the same location.
“…….”

How the hell did it come to this?
***
Natsu Matsuri—the Summer Festival.

Every year, as the heat ramps up in July and August, local shopkeepers rent out nearby shrines to host a festival.
It’s practically a national tradition across Japan. While details vary by region or neighborhood, certain elements are universal.
Rows of food stalls, lanterns strung above your head, and everything ending with a grand fireworks display.
A celebration shared by friends, family, and lovers alike.

And yet, on such a joyous day, I found myself swallowing hard under suffocating tension.
The reason: the fierce standoff playing out right in front of me between three girls.
“Senpai and I had plans first, actually. Why don’t you back off?”

“Ryuu-chan’s supposed to go around the festival with me! And who even are you, anyway?!”
“Rika, I’m disappointed. After you proposed an alliance to Karen, you try to sneak in and take him for yourself?”
A true three-way battle.

“A-awawawa!”
Karen, unable to handle the situation, was panicking behind them—while the three girls locked horns.
…Was this my karma?

To a bystander, this would look exactly like a guy who deserved to be branded as trash.
And sure enough, people around us began whispering.
“That’s gotta be the high schooler around here who even the yakuza acknowledged…”

“Ugh, I get the whole womanizing hero trope, but how many girls is that?”
“I wonder what he’s like in bed…”
No words.

Honestly, it was all my fault. I had accepted every invitation without saying no. All I could do was silently accept the harsh judgment being cast on me.
Eventually, it seemed the girls realized that arguing amongst themselves wouldn’t settle anything—so they all turned to me at once and demanded:
“Senpai! Choose!”

“Ryuu-chan! Pick one!”
“Kim Yu-seong, make your choice!”
""Is it her or me?!""

Faced with a no-win decision, I made the only play I had: I offered a third option.
“…Since we’re all here anyway, how about we just go around together?”
***

To be honest, my suggestion was nothing more than a stopgap.
But to the three girls, all busy keeping each other in check, it must’ve seemed like the most reasonable compromise.
As the five of us walked together in a group, Minato suddenly asked me a question.

“Senpai, how does my yukata look?”
Only then did I finally notice what she was wearing.
A black yukata adorned with vivid red roses.

One of the Academy’s Three Great Beauties, known as the “Nation’s Little Sister”—her yukata, fittingly, was stunning.
“Oh? You look great.”
Then, almost as if competing, Rika chimed in.

“Ryuu-chan, what about me?”
I turned to look at her green yukata.
It had a diamond pattern, and felt very “her”—you could tell she cared about fashion.

“Rika, you look good too.”
Not to be left out, Sasha proudly spread the sleeves of her blue yukata, decorated with morning glories.
It was the one she and the president picked out together during Golden Week.

“I’m glad you like it, Kim Yu-seong. You’re the first person I’ve ever shown myself in a yukata to.”
“What an honor.”
Still, it didn’t seem like something that needed commenting on, so I let it go quietly.

“W-what about me?”
The last to ask was Karen, dressed in a white yukata.
It was a stark contrast to her usual tough demeanor, and gave off a surprisingly girlish vibe—leaving a strong impression.

“You look nice too, Karen.”
“…Thanks.”
At this point I was starting to feel like a compliment machine.

Maybe because I was the only guy around?
As I pondered that—
“Ah! Kim-kun!”

I ran into backup I hadn’t expected at all.
“Sakamoto!”
It was none other than the protagonist himself, Sakamoto Ryuji.

***
In a typical harem romcom, Sakamoto Ryuji would’ve been the one suffering in a situation like this.
But thanks to some twist of fate, aside from his childhood friend Yaguchi Maiya and his little sister Yuika, most of the heroines had ended up tied to me.

“So we meet here—what a coincidence.”
“Hello, Onii-chan.”
“Hey there, Kim-kun.”

For some reason, both Yuika and Yaguchi Maiya were each clinging to one of his arms as they greeted us.
Sakamoto looked over at my group and asked playfully:
“Out on a date? The gender balance seems a bit off though.”

“If you’ve noticed, why don’t you help balance it?”
“I’m already overwhelmed with flowers in both hands, you see.”
As Sakamoto spoke cheekily, both girls clinging to him blushed bright red.

I mean, it made sense for Yaguchi, but wasn’t Yuika his little sister? That seemed like a line not to cross…
But this was a romcom world. I decided to just roll with it.
After all, Scramble Love was rated All Ages.

Anyway, it felt like a waste to part ways so soon, so we decided to walk around the festival together for a bit.
To be honest, I finally felt like I could breathe.
Having at least one more guy around made the conversation way easier.

As we climbed the stone steps leading to the shrine grounds, Sakamoto asked,
“What were you doing before you got here?”
“Me? Just working out at home.”

“Kim-kun, you really never miss a day of training, huh.”
“You skip a day on break and your gains disappear.”
“Ha ha, fair point.”

Then, from behind, the foreign ghost trailing us chimed in.
“An admirable example, Contractor. Daily training is essential for any warrior.”
Trying my best to ignore him, I took the opportunity to ask something I’d been wondering.

“Come to think of it—Sakamoto, what kind of training do you do? Back during volleyball, your movements didn’t seem ordinary.”
Scratching the back of his head shyly, Sakamoto replied,
“It’s nothing special, really. I’ve been learning jujutsu at Yaguchi’s dad’s dojo since I was a kid. It’s an old school called Mujin-ryu. Helped me build a lot of strength.”

Mujin-ryu, huh.
So there was a reason for that shounen-battle-style drift in tone. Didn’t expect Yaguchi’s backstory to carry that kind of setup.
“Ryuji, why don’t you tell him about the Pharaoh Fist techniques I taught you?”

“Would you shut it?!”
Apparently fed up, Sakamoto snapped and waved his hand at the ghost.
I had to pretend I didn’t see anything, so I just tilted my head in mock confusion.

“Ryuji, what was that just now?”
Sakamoto blinked at me.
“Oh, uh—just a mosquito. Aha… Ahahahaha.”

Watching him laugh awkwardly, I thought to myself: You’ve got it rough too, huh?
“But did I ever give you permission to drop honorifics?”
“Huh?”

Only then did I realize I’d just called him by his first name without meaning to.
That damn ghost…
“Ah, sorry. Didn’t even realize I did that.”

“No, no, I wasn’t scolding you or anything. I just meant… I kind of feel like we’re actually getting closer now. Until recently, you always felt kind of distant.”
Sakamoto gave an awkward smile.
“So if it’s okay, can I call you Yu-seong from now on instead of Kim-kun?”

“…Do what you want. Honestly, I don’t really care either way.”
Unlike Japanese people, who put a lot of meaning into how they address others, I’m Korean—I’m used to calling people by their names, not their surnames.
Of course, I still respect the cultural differences.

Chatting about random guy stuff like that, we soon arrived at the shrine grounds where all the food stalls were lined up.
***
“Takoyaki here! Six for 300 yen!”

“Candy apples! We’ve got octopus skewers too!”
“Yakisoba, fresh and hot!”
The stall vendors were shouting at the top of their lungs, trying to draw in passing customers.

Honestly speaking, the food sold at places like this usually isn’t very high-quality.
In fact, the prices are often kind of ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) inflated—but it’s easy to get swept up in the festive atmosphere and buy anyway.
And since the place was packed with high schoolers in their prime, we couldn’t just walk by without being tempted.

“Wanna grab something to eat too?”
When I turned and asked, everyone nodded in unison.