Weren’t You Only Using Me As A Stand-in? [145]

Turn on the light?

I want to turn you into a chandelier right now.

Yozakura Hitomi’s gaze was sharp and cold. Her expression was completely clouded with gloom.

But standing in the unlit hallway, outside the reach of the overhead light, Kitahara Takeru couldn’t see her face clearly.

Click.

Kitahara flipped the light on.

In that instant, the shadows vanished, and so did Hitomi’s hostile expression. She twirled a strand of hair around her finger like a housewife chatting casually with her husband after his late shift.

“You’re back late.”

She was dressed in a white bathrobe, its wide neckline slipping off her shoulders to reveal a graceful swan-like neck and delicately contoured collarbones.

She had clearly just taken a bath. Her fair skin glowed with a soft blush, making her look even more seductive.

Instead of her usual high ponytail, her silver hair was tied loosely to the side, resting over her chest in a low, lazy side-tail.

It was the kind of dangerously elegant “housewife hairstyle.”

And beneath that robe—her legs.

Long, impossibly well-shaped, ivory white.

Without question, the best legs he’d ever seen.

Kitahara stood dumbly at the doorway, staring like a fool.

Seeing him dazed, Hitomi’s mood lightened ever so slightly.

“Like what you see?”

Snapping out of it, Kitahara tried to play it cool. “Eh, I’ve seen better.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

Her eyes dropped slightly, then curved into a sly smile.

“Well, your ‘little brother’ is being far more honest.”

Kitahara immediately looked down—then awkwardly grabbed his backpack to block the view.

Hitomi chuckled softly.

“So, where were you this late?”

“Club dinner.”

“Just the club dinner?”

“Yeah, what else?”

Kitahara angled his body to avoid looking at her, walking past as quickly as he could.

He was starting to lose control of his very awake body.

Because he didn’t look back, he missed the sharp flash in Hitomi’s eyes.

Inside the living room, he noticed a laptop on the coffee table, closed but still warm. A folder full of documents sat next to it. And atop that pile—an unfamiliar tin of tea.

“What’s this?”

Hitomi made herself comfortable on the sofa, like she owned the place. “Ceylon black tea. Good for sleep. Want some?”

“My sleep’s fine.”

Kitahara pulled a camera out of his bag and opened the laptop.

He needed to touch up the photos from his shoot with Kitagawa Marin.

Kitahara always did post-editing after a shoot. Never just raw shots.

“I’ll take it back later then.”

She didn’t push.

Instead, she watched him carefully, fingers drifting under a pillow beside her.

Kitahara zoomed in on one of Marin’s photos to refine the details.

“…Actually, I’ll take a cup. Thanks.”

Hitomi paused, then removed her hand from under the pillow.

She had been holding a stun gun.

“Okay. Give me a minute.”

As she passed behind him, she glanced at the screen.

And her mood instantly darkened.

The image was zoomed in on Kitagawa Marin’s deep cleavage.

Known fact: Marin was an E-cup. Zoomed in, the impact was... explosive.

Hitomi looked down at her own chest.

...Cups of persimmons.

Suddenly, she questioned why she was bothering with kindness.

The stun gun might’ve been a better idea.

Suppressing a long breath, Hitomi turned to make the tea.

By the time Kitahara finished retouching the first photo, she returned with a cup and placed it at his right hand.

Instead of drinking it right away, Kitahara sent the edited photo to Marin.

[Kitahara]: How’s this one?

Right as he set the phone down and picked up the tea, his phone buzzed again.

[Kitagawa Marin]: OMG OMG is that REALLY me?! (?>?<)
[Kitagawa Marin]: Incredible!! You’re a wizard, Takeru!!
[Kitagawa Marin]: This looks like a photobook shot! I could SELL this!!

[Kitahara]: You get what you pay for. Hire me, and you’ll never regret it.
[Kitahara]: If this is good, I’ll use this level for the rest.

[Kitagawa Marin]: YES YES YES!!
[Kitagawa Marin]: Oh, do you have time next month? I want to cosplay Veronica♡!

[Kitahara]: Is this character wholesome? I’m not shooting lewds.

[Kitagawa Marin]: Ehh?? Why not~?

Kitahara scoffed.

It’s like watching porn where I can’t touch anything. Boring. No payoff.

[Kitagawa Marin]: Voice message – 2 seconds

His hand moved faster than his brain. He tapped it.

In the silent living room, Marin’s sultry voice blared:

“Takeru, did you get hard last time?”

Kitahara: “…”

His body creaked like an unoiled machine as he slowly turned his head.

Hitomi’s hair was floating—no wind in sight.

Even Newton would’ve risen from the grave to protest.

Her eyes were lethal.

“T-that... must’ve been a misclick. Wrong message. Really.”

Kitahara, sweating bullets, quickly took a tactical sip of tea.

Seeing him drink the tea, Hitomi’s hair settled, and she offered a sunny smile.

A breeze in summer—light, soft, and terrifying.

“Tasty?”

Kitahara couldn’t taste a thing, but he gave her a thumbs up.

“Delicious. Anything brewed by the lady of the house must be top-tier.”

“As long as you like it.”

She picked up the throw pillow.

Underneath it: two pairs of handcuffs, a coil of rope, a large roll of duct tape, a stun gun, and a cattle prod.

Kitahara’s smile froze.

“Lan-lan-landlord, wh-what’s all this for?”

Hitomi rose slowly. Step by step, she approached—each step like a devil’s drumbeat.

Run.

That was Kitahara’s first instinct.

He tried to stand—but couldn’t.

His body felt heavy. Numb.

He collapsed, dizzy. Eyelids heavy.

“Sleep, Takeru. You won’t remember a thing when you wake up.”

The last thing he saw was Hitomi’s soft pink toes.

She picked up his phone and unlocked it with his fingerprint.

One by one, she opened every chat with a female contact.

Most were empty—scrubbed clean.

“Thorough.”

She kicked his unconscious body in annoyance.

Eventually, she found one with content.

He hadn’t had time to delete it yet.

[Eriri]: Takeru, I’m all better now (^▽^)
[Eriri]: My parents want to invite you for dinner. They really like you!

Hitomi sneered.

Like him? That woman pulled strings to get his file from the police department.

She wasn’t "fond"—she was cautious.

[Eriri]: Oh! Kasumigaoka’s been acting weird. Totally dazed in class. She’s like she got dumped or something.

Kasumigaoka Utaha?

Hitomi’s brow furrowed.

Wasn’t she the one who had a crush on… what’s his name again? Aki-something?

She couldn’t remember. She didn’t care enough.

But now? Looks like Kitahara completely replaced that guy.

“Pathetic.”

She clicked her tongue.

Kasumigaoka meant nothing to her—but adding another rival annoyed her.

Bored, she called out: “Come in.”

Moments later, a female bodyguard entered.

“Before he wakes up, recover all chat data. Send it to my phone.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And install a tracker. I want to know where he is at all times.”

“Yes.”

After she left, Hitomi turned her attention back to Kitahara.

Straddling his waist, she let her hands slide up his abdomen—fingertips feather-light—until they reached his throat and squeezed.

“Being your girlfriend is exhausting…”

“So, how about you just tell me?”

“Who did you talk to today?”

“How many messages?”

“What were you doing when you ignored me?”

“Who were you with?”

“How many messages did you send them?”

“Did you think of me?”

“Do you love me or Rie more?”

Each question twisted her pretty face more and more.

Her eyes—once clear as mountain spring water—were now brimming with obsession and madness.

Her breathing grew erratic. Her cheeks flushed red.

Though Kitahara was the one being strangled—Hitomi was the one going weak.

She lowered her head and pressed her ear to his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.

“You’re mine, Takeru. No one can take you from me. Not even Rie.”

“If you dare like someone else, I’ll kill them all—right in front of you.”

“You hear me?”

Kitahara, unconscious, couldn’t answer.

But she took his silence as agreement.

She wrapped her arms around him and smiled contentedly.

---

The next morning.

Kitahara woke in bed.

His head pounded like it had been split open.

He tried to get up—but realized something was pressing against his arm.

Turning his head, he saw—

A girl’s peaceful sleeping face.

Sunlight streamed in through the curtains, veiling her in a soft halo. Her white nightgown fluttered slightly in the breeze.

Like an angel descended.

“…Landlady?”

Kitahara was completely bewildered.

Why was she in his bed?

What happened last night?

He tried to recall—but his memory was blank. Like someone had wiped it clean.

“…Mm?”

Long lashes trembled. Hitomi slowly opened her eyes.

They locked eyes.

“Morning?” Kitahara offered a weak smile.

“Mm. Morning.”

She smiled sweetly—pure and innocent.

Not a trace of the madness from last night.

“Um… did we…”

Kitahara hesitated, but asked.

“Did we sleep together?”

“You don’t remember?”

A flash of amusement sparkled in her eyes.

Looks like that tea worked well. I should stock up.

Kitahara didn’t catch the look. He nodded dumbly.

“You drank the tea I brought, passed out on the table, and I had to drag you to bed.”

Half-truth.

“Then why didn’t you leave?”

“You think I could?”

She glanced down.

Kitahara followed her gaze.

His arm was wrapped tightly around her slender waist.

“Sorry!”

He quickly pulled his hand away.

“Mm… I couldn’t move all night. My back’s killing me.”

She sat up, stretching her arms. Her robe slipped down, exposing porcelain shoulders.

Kitahara averted his eyes.

Back to the question. “So… did we… do anything?”

“If we had, what would you do?”

He answered honestly. “I don’t know.”

He really didn’t. This wasn’t in his plans.

Right now, he couldn’t afford to take responsibility.

Watching his awkward expression, Hitomi wanted to take a photo.

“Relax. We just shared a bed. Purely platonic.”

She winked.

Her own favorite line—thrown back at him.

Somehow, it felt different hearing it from her.

“Of course… if you want to take responsibility, I wouldn’t mind~”

She propped her chin on her hand, smiling flirtatiously.

Kitahara scrambled out of bed.

“Nope! I’m good!”

She was far too dangerous.

If he didn’t run, he’d definitely do something stupid.

“You sure? I’m a shaved tiger, you know.”

He froze in the doorway.

Then bolted into the bathroom.

“…Small fry~”

---

T/N: i think bros cooked, its over for him like there's no way :sob:

This is a fan translation of 不是说只拿我当替身的吗？by 雪碧加冰. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!