[ How dare you, a stranger, make a salient criticism about him. Fuuta gives an indignant huff, expression crinkling in his usual look of offense, but thankfully before he can muster any good retort, the bartender slides his glass before him.

It sure is an expensive-looking glass, simple and elegant, filled with an amber liquid and topped off with a sprinkling of gold flakes and a spiral of citrus peel. Details that Fuuta fails to fully appreciate as he just takes a sip like the boorish young man he is.

At least it's tasty, earning a lick of the lips afterward before he returns his attention to 'Mitsuzuri' with eyes narrowed. ]

Kajiyama Fuuta. [ And with that minimum courtesy out of the way: ] You have a Japanese name, but you look like that and you talk about how the way I'm dressed is familiar? What kinda place are you from?

[ Is he from an honest-to-god isekai setting. He's going to get a migraine if this guy mentions anything about being sent to another world. ]