Yasuo's day was rather funny when you thought about it.
One moment, he was in his family home, relaxing. The next moment, he was in a bar beating people up. It was filled with blood and shouting.
Now, they were walking down a busy street filled with lights, chatter, and the smell of food.
No one looked twice at them as everyone was doing their own thing.
At the hibachi place, they were seated quickly.
The grill sizzled in front of them, flames jumping up as the chef started cooking. Tadashi ordered drinks without even asking.
"Start us off with sake. And don't be shy with it," he told the hibachi worker whom he had gotten to know quite well after coming to the place quite often with his other friends.
Yasuo leaned back in his chair, rolling his shoulders.
"You're trying to get me drunk."
"Obviously," Tadashi replied. "You're in a weird mood, claiming that you're a new man. It's long past New Year's. Too late to start on your resolution. Must be the sudden change in scenery coming back home speaking to you, but don't worry, alcohol fixes that."
The first drink went down smoothly.
Then the second.
By the third, Yasuo felt the tension in his chest loosen. A part of him had been concerned at how drastically his behavior had flipped when he had walked into that room.
Never in his life did he imagine he would do such a thing. Those things were more akin to what the original Yasuo would do.
The noise around him felt warmer, less sharp.
Tadashi kept talking, joking about random things, telling exaggerated stories about what he's been up to since the last time they had seen each other, which was strange considering they played often and would catch up then.
Yasuo even caught him in the middle of lying a few times as he retold stories but changed details about them.
He didn't call his friend out and continued eating and drinking.
"Alright," Tadashi said between bites, "I'll be a good friend and pretend for a moment that I believe you. Let me ask you one more time. Do you really think you've changed?"
Yasuo watched the flames dance on the grill.
"I don't think. I know I've changed."
Tadashi smirked, still mostly in doubt at his words. "You sound serious."
"I am serious."
"Then… why are you drinking like this?" Tadashi asked, pouring him another cup. "A changed man deserves to be celebrated. More drinks!"
Yasuo watched his friend act like a fool and realized that everything at the moment only had one result: more alcohol. He drank everything poured into his cup in a single gulp.
Tadashi laughed, "There we go. Have some more."
They ate. They drank. Then they drank more.
The chef made jokes. Tadashi clapped too loudly. Yasuo found himself smiling despite the guilt in the back of his mind about what had transpired earlier.
At some point, Yasuo lost count of how many drinks he had.
His head felt light. His body felt heavy.
"You good?" Tadashi asked, noticing his unfocused stare.
"Yeah," Yasuo replied, though the word came out slower than intended. "I'm great. But my mind is starting to ache a little."
"That's never a good sign," Tadashi muttered, but he didn't stop pouring. "It sounds like you need more alcohol to fix that headache of yours. You know what they say. Alcohol is the cure for all."
The restaurant lights blurred. Sounds stretched and melted together.
Yasuo leaned back, blinking slowly.
The last thing he remembered was Tadashi saying something he couldn't quite hear.
Then—
Nothing.
When Yasuo woke up the next morning, his head was pounding. It wasn't too bad considering he had drunk enough alcohol to give himself poisoning.
He naturally had a high alcohol tolerance anyway and would rarely get hangovers.
The ceiling above him was unfamiliar. It wasn't the ceiling of his penthouse or the ceiling of his childhood bedroom that he had been sleeping in since he returned home.
It wasn't a short ceiling. It was clean and white.
"Where am I?" he muttered in confusion.
He shifted, and his arm brushed against warm skin.
His heart skipped. He remembered drinking with his best friend, but the texture of the skin didn't seem like it belonged to him.
And if it was, he was ready to kick his friend for getting him so drunk that they slept in the same bed.
Slowly, he sat up, the blanket sliding down his waist.
A woman was lying beside him, facing away, her breathing slow and even.
"…You've got to be kidding me," he whispered.
He pressed a hand to his face, trying to remember anything. How he got here. Who she was.
Carefully, he leaned over to look at her face and froze when he saw it.
"…No way."
It didn't take more than a second to recognize who the woman sleeping beside him was.
The high school beauty. The girl everyone talked about. The one who had always been out of reach for the boys at school.
"Didn't she get married last month?" Yasuo uttered as he recalled a part of the memories that he had been given after transferring into Yasuo's body.
Stroking his chin, he picked up her blanket gently and pulled it down to check.
"Yep. She's naked alright," he whispered before putting the blanket back on her.
Then the memories started to come back.
It was blurry at first but after a minute, it was clear about everything that had occurred.
'How is it possible that I NTR'ed someone's wife when I'm not even trying to do it?'