Am I The Only Male Tenant Here?

"Mizutani-san, what exactly happened?" I asked, watching our normally composed class representative looking like she was about to have a com

"Mizutani-san, what exactly happened?" I asked, watching our normally composed class representative looking like she was about to have a complete mental breakdown.

"It's completely out of control, Ginjo-san!" Mizutani-san practically wailed, gesturing wildly toward our class stall. "I was on the verge of a complete nervous breakdown when I spotted you!"

Okay, dramatic much? But if Mizutani-san is this rattled, it must be serious.

"The first problem," she continued, counting off on her fingers, "is that our customer numbers have exploded exponentially. The food is apparently so good that people are spreading the word like wildfire. Every satisfied customer becomes a walking advertisement!"

Word of mouth marketing. The double-edged sword of the food service industry.

"And you know how people are—when they see a long line, they automatically assume it must be amazing food. So instead of the line getting shorter, it just keeps growing longer!"

Classic herd mentality in action. Though I had to admit, seeing a genuine crowd of paying customers instead of hired shills was oddly satisfying.

Mizutani-san paused to catch her breath before launching into round two of her crisis report.

"The second problem is that we severely miscalculated our staffing needs. Based on last year's data, we thought seven students would be more than enough to handle the festival rush."

Famous last words right there.

"I was so confident in our numbers that I didn't even arrange for backup support. And now that we're drowning, I can't find any available classmates to help because they're all—"

"Either running their own stalls, helping their clubs, or enjoying the festival like normal human beings," I finished, the full scope of the problem clicking into place.

Of course. It's festival day—everyone's either working or playing. The few people who aren't assigned anywhere are probably off doing exactly what Shiraishi-senpai and I were doing: wandering around, playing games, going on dates...

My mind flashed back to that perfect moment in the planetarium, and I felt a stab of sympathy for anyone who might get their romantic interlude interrupted by an emergency work call.

God, if someone had called me while I was kissing Shiraishi-senpai under those artificial stars, I probably would have committed murder.

"Calm down, Mizutani-san," I said, switching into problem-solving mode. "I'll figure something out."

This stall was my idea in the first place. If it fails spectacularly, that's on me. Time to take responsibility.

I quickly analyzed the situation with the kind of systematic thinking that had served me well in my previous corporate life. The core issue was simple: massive demand, insufficient supply capacity, creating a vicious cycle of longer wait times and increasingly frustrated customers.

Seven people trying to handle meal tickets, order management, cooking, plating, serving, and cleanup for this kind of crowd? They must be dying in there.

Two options presented themselves, each with significant downsides.

Option one: temporarily halt service to contact classmates for emergency backup. But even thinking about it made me cringe with secondhand guilt.

Imagine getting that call while you're finally relaxing after a week of festival prep. "Hey, I know you're enjoying your one day off, but could you come work for free at our crisis-stricken food stall?" Yeah, that'll go over well.

I had vivid memories from my previous life as a corporate drone—those precious weekend mornings when I'd finally sleep in naturally, maybe catch up on an anime series or play a game I'd bought months ago but never had time for. The crushing disappointment when an "urgent" work call would shatter that brief moment of freedom.

Everyone's living their best festival life right now. Sending out an SOS in the class group chat would be like dropping a guilt bomb on people who are actually enjoying themselves.

Option two: make do with current resources and somehow pull through the remaining hour of service.

It's risky, but at least it doesn't make me the villain who ruins everyone's festival experience.

"We're not calling anyone else," I declared, my decision crystallizing. "I'll help, and we'll handle this with whoever we've got right now."

"I'll help too, Ginjo-san!" Shiraishi-senpai stepped forward without hesitation.

She's offering to work at a food stall. In her festival kimono. After we just had the most perfect romantic moment of my life. How is she so amazing?

"Are you sure, Shiraishi-senpai?" I asked, though my heart was already swelling with gratitude.

"Absolutely. My class has been running their stall for three years—everything's running smoothly and they won't need me after the initial setup was completed."

That's my student council president. Always thinking about resource allocation and efficiency.

"Perfect. Now we have three people instead of one."

"Thank you both so much!" Mizutani-san looked like she might cry from relief. "But even with your help, won't this crowd still be overwhelming?"

She's not wrong. Even with reinforcements, we're still looking at a hell of a workload.

"If we spend time and energy trying to recruit more help, that'll just slow down food service even more," I pointed out. "We've got about an hour left before the festival starts winding down. If we focus everything on efficient operations, we can push through!"

Sometimes the best strategy is the simplest one: put your head down and power through.

"I agree with Ginjo-san completely," Shiraishi-senpai said with that firm tone that made her such an effective leader.

"You're right!" Mizutani-san's expression shifted from panic to determination. "Looking for outside help now would just complicate things further!"

That's the spirit. Now let's turn this disaster into a victory.

"Alright, now that we've committed to this insanity, let's talk strategy and personnel assignments," I said, shifting into full operational mode.

Time to channel my inner efficiency expert.

"Mizutani-san, which ramen variety is selling the fastest right now?"

"Definitely the Sapporo Ramen," she replied without hesitation.

Perfect. Streamlining the menu is Restaurant Management 101.

"Shiraishi-senpai, you're on ticket sales and order management. Try to steer customers toward the Sapporo Ramen—focusing on a single popular item will definitely speed up kitchen operations."

"Understood!" she nodded with military precision.

Having a beautiful student council president as your sales representative is probably the ultimate marketing weapon.

"Okamoto!" I called out to our resident slacker, who was halfheartedly wiping down tables.

"When I was walking around earlier, I noticed some other stalls have empty tables and chairs. Go negotiate borrowing some—we need to expand our seating capacity immediately."

Okamoto gave me a sharp okay gesture, and for the first time ever, his usual lazy expression was replaced by focused determination.

Crisis situations really do bring out people's hidden potential.

"Mizutani-san and I will handle food delivery and table clearing. The cooking team can focus entirely on production without worrying about front-of-house operations."

"Ginjo-san, your finger..." Shiraishi-senpai gently tugged at my sleeve, her voice soft with concern.

She's worried about my injury even in the middle of this chaos. God, she's perfect.

"My hand is fine, don't worry, Shiraishi-senpai," I assured her, flexing my fingers to prove the point.

A little kitchen burn isn't going to stop me from saving our class stall.

With roles assigned, everyone scattered to their positions like a well-drilled emergency response team.

Shiraishi-senpai gathered her long silver hair and twisted it into an elegant updo that revealed the graceful curve of her neck, transforming from festival date to serious businesswoman in seconds.

Even when she's getting ready to work a food stall, she looks like a goddess. This is so unfair to my concentration.

Menu in hand, she began addressing the increasingly restless crowd with the kind of calm authority that made people automatically trust her. Watching her work was like seeing a master class in customer service—she simultaneously soothed anxious customers while subtly steering them toward our most efficient menu option.

The student council president mode is incredibly attractive. She's got this whole "competent leader taking charge" thing that's doing dangerous things to my heart.

Meanwhile, the cooking team seemed to get a second wind now that reinforcements had arrived. The sight of help on the horizon had transformed their exhaustion into renewed energy.

Nothing motivates people like knowing they're not fighting alone.

And so began our desperate battle to save the stall. Me in my festival clothes, the beautiful Shiraishi Lisa with her sleeves rolled up and hair pinned back, and our classmates—all united in a frantic but strangely exhilarating fight against time, hunger, and overwhelming customer demand.

This wasn't how I planned to spend the rest of my festival date, but somehow... watching Shiraishi-senpai work with such dedication, seeing everyone come together like this... it's its own kind of perfect.