Weren’t You Only Using Me As A Stand-in? [144]

Nakano Miku pressed one hand to her skirt and the other to her chest, eyes wary.

“What do you want?”

“What do you think?”

Kitahara Takeru’s smile was laced with mischief as he slowly advanced on her.

With each step he took forward, Miku took one back—like a textbook demonstration from a Van Dyck painting.

But her retreat didn’t last long. Her back soon hit the cold wall—no way out.

Kitahara closed in, leaning down slightly.

“N-No… don’t…”

As his face drew closer, Miku shut her eyes tight and clapped both hands over her mouth.

No way… is he really going to force a kiss?!

Except—nothing happened.

Instead, her ears caught a calm, crystal-clear voice.

“Fūrinkazan?”

Miku blinked, completely thrown off.

What… Fūrinkazan?

What was he even talking about?

“Takeda-bishi... That’s Takeda Shingen’s family crest, isn’t it?” Kitahara muttered, more to himself.

Miku snapped her eyes open.

Her phone—somehow, it was already in his hands.

“Give it back!” she said, reaching for it.

Kitahara raised it just out of reach and gave her a look that said, Try it. I dare you.

Miku froze on the spot. She wasn’t exaggerating—Kitahara looked like someone who could take on ten people without breaking a sweat.

“What’s the password?”

She turned her head away, saying nothing.

“No? That’s fine. I’ll just go bother your sisters.”

Kitahara turned to leave.

“No! You can’t!”

Panicked, Miku darted in front of him like a mother hen shielding her chicks. Arms spread, she blocked his path.

Kitahara raised an eyebrow. “So, you giving me the password or not?”

“I’ll unlock it for you… is that okay?”

Still unwilling to hand over her passcode, she clung to this final shred of resistance.

He thought for a moment, then handed the phone back.

Miku took it, turned around, and started inputting the code—back to him.

This idiot. Doesn’t she realize the height difference?

From where he stood, Kitahara easily saw the digits she typed:

5539.

Birthday and her name’s number code? he mused.

When she turned back, there were tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. Her lips were pressed into a tight line. She looked up at him, clearly trying to win some sympathy.

But Kitahara was no longer a soft-hearted teenager. He was long past the age where a girl’s tears could melt his heart.

His heart, like a cleaver that’s filleted fish for ten years at a supermarket, had gone stone cold.

“…Hmph?”

He gave a small scoff, and Miku flinched—then bowed her head, bent at the waist, and held out her phone with both hands like a defeated general offering tribute to a conqueror.

Kitahara took it, fiddled around up at a height she couldn’t see, and then handed it back.

She looked down.

There was a new contact saved in her phone.

“That’s my number,” Kitahara said, turning away to fix his shirt in the mirror.

“From now on, when I message you—you have to reply. If I call, you have to answer.”

Why should I— she thought, but before she could speak, he cut in:

“If you don’t, I’ll go flirt with your sisters instead.”

“You can choose: let me bother you… or let me bother them.”

With that, Kitahara strolled out.

Honestly, he didn’t want to be this way.

But Miku was an introvert, possibly due to her upbringing or personality. She lived in a shell, actively avoiding the outside world. And girls like that?

Total magnets for scumbags.

Kitahara saw two paths:

Option 1: Become a private tutor for the Nakano family. Slowly win Miku’s heart through patient teaching, encouragement, and subtle charm.

Option 2: Use her sisters as leverage. Apply pressure. Force her to meet him.

Option 1 was ideal—but impossible.

Why? Because their guardian, Nakano Maruo, would definitely run a background check on any potential tutor.

If even Kashiwagi Nagisa’s private investigator could strip him bare, Maruo could do worse in a heartbeat.

Besides, Option 1 was slow—minimum one month, possibly years.

If this were right after he transmigrated, maybe he would’ve gone for it. But now? He had way too many targets. He couldn’t afford to sink so much time into one girl.

Also—being good at studying doesn’t mean you’re good at teaching.

Even college professors often struggle to tutor their own kids.

So Option 1 was out. That left Option 2.

Fast, but risky.

Being targeted… What do I do…?

Miku stared at the contact number on her phone.

She thought about deleting it. Blocking it.

But then she imagined Kitahara actually bothering her sisters.

She couldn’t take that risk.

So she kept the contact.

“I’ve sacrificed too much for this family… Without me, this house would fall apart.”

She muttered bitterly and walked out of the bathroom.

---

“Ahhh~ finally shopped my heart out.”

Fujiwara Chika stepped out of a luxury boutique, arms heavy with shopping bags.

Following behind her, Fujiwara Moeha was just as burdened.

She glanced at her watch. “Sis, it’s getting late. We should go home.”

“Ehh, let’s grab a bite first~ There’s a great ramen place nearby.”

“You still have money?”

“Just spot me for now. I’ll pay you back once I get the allowance from Grandpa.”

“You said that last time.”

The sisters bickered like usual.

Inside the ramen shop, Chika shouted, “Three bowls of soy-sauce pork bone ramen, please!”

“…There’s only two of us,” Moeha said.

“Oh, right. I forgot you were here.”

Chika scratched her head sheepishly.
“Make that four bowls!”

Moeha was used to this and didn’t even bother sighing.

They found a seat by the window.

Suddenly, Chika shook Moeha’s shoulder excitedly.

“Moeha! Look! Look!”

“What?”

Moeha looked up—and saw someone she recognized: Shirogane Kei, who was supposed to have gone home long ago.

Next to her was a striking boy—tall, pale, clean-cut.

They looked like they were on a date.

Him…?

Chika had been there when he sang. She instantly recognized Kitahara Takeru.

“Manager Kitahara, thank you again.”

“Hope we can work together again.”

Having received payment for the translation work, Kitahara nodded politely while Shirogane Kei looked like she was trying not to burst with excitement.

Outside, Kitahara opened the envelope and counted the bills, then handed half to Kei.

“Senpai, is this real? I’m not dreaming?”

Kei’s hands were trembling as she took the money.

“You’re way too easily pleased.”

It wasn’t much—just 50,000 yen total.

He kept half. She got 25,000.

Not a huge amount.

But it was her first paycheck—earned by her own hands.

To Kei, it was priceless.

It meant she could contribute to her family. Carry some of the weight.

Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at Kitahara, grateful.

“Thank you, Senpai.”

None of this would’ve happened without him.

Before him, she’d been a leech—relying on her dad and brother for everything.

At her age, that wasn’t unusual. Many people still leaned on their parents well into adulthood.

But Kei grew up fast.

Her mother was gone. Her father worked odd jobs. Her brother barely got six hours of sleep a day.

It was a lot for a middle school girl to carry.

Kitahara looked at her, and for a moment, saw a reflection of himself—back in a chapter of his life he rarely revisited.

This wasn’t “an investment.” He helped her because he’d once stood in the rain and wanted to offer someone else a dry umbrella.

Watching her smile so brightly… he couldn’t help but smile too.

He spread his arms and joked, “A simple thank-you? That’s it? Not even a hug?”

Kei blinked.

“I’m kidding—”

But before he could lower his arms, Kei stepped forward.

With the solemnity of someone walking toward the gallows, she grabbed his jacket gently and leaned her forehead against his chest.

“….”

Kitahara’s grin froze.

Wait… I was joking. Can’t you tell I was joking?

“Kei, I—”

He looked down, and a soft breeze lifted her bangs—revealing her flushed cheeks and shy expression.

The words died in his throat.

Far away, inside a dark car, Yozakura Hitomi watched with expressionless eyes, arms folded across her chest.

...

After that awkward scene, the mood between them was tense.

Standing on the train, neither of them spoke.

The train rattled on.

When they finally reached her stop, Kei broke the silence.

“I’m home.”

A completely meaningless statement.

“…Okay.”

Kitahara had no idea what to say either.

“Go on up.”

“…Right.”

Kei stole a glance at him—only to meet his eyes directly.

She quickly looked away, guilty.

Her patent leather shoes tapped nervously against the floor.

“Just now—”

“Forget it ever happened.”

Kitahara beat her to it.

“Oh.”

Her voice turned sharp with irritation.

Sure, that was what she wanted to say—but hearing it from him, and so fast, like he couldn’t distance himself from her fast enough?

It pissed her off.

She shot him a murderous glare, muttered a cold “Goodbye,” and stormed up the stairs.

As Kitahara turned to leave…

He saw them.

Two figures—an older man and a younger one, both with knives in hand—staring daggers at him.

They looked almost identical to Kei.

Kitahara’s skin crawled.

“Uh… I’m just Kei's friend. We’re totally platonic. Just a hug between very good friends.”

“What did you callher?”
“Kei?! Who gave you permission to call her that?!”

The father and brother stepped forward, waving their kitchen knives menacingly.

Kei was just about to open the door when she heard the commotion and ran back down.

“No one touch him!”

She dashed down the stairs and stood protectively in front of Kitahara.

“Kei…”

Shirogane Miyuki and their dad looked like they’d just been stabbed in the heart.

Their precious daughter and little sister—standing between them and some guy.

Their gazes turned murderous.

You bastard.

She’s in middle school.

Are you even human?!

“Senpai, go. I’ll handle this.”

“…Okay.”

Kitahara didn’t hesitate—he bolted.

“You were on a date with him? Why so late?!”

Shirogane Miyuki’s voice rose with accusation.

If he had asked calmly, Kei might’ve explained.

But he interrogated her.

And Kei was at that rebellious age. What she hated most was being questioned.

He hit her reverse scale.

She glared at him coldly.

“Yeah, I was on a date with Senpai. So what? Not allowed?”

“You do know he already has a girlfriend, right?!”

Miyuki had done his homework. At Aoba, Kitahara was dating Kamikawa Rie.

Kei scoffed. “So what? He’s amazing. A guy like that should have more than one.”

“What?!”

Miyuki nearly blacked out.

He thought Kitahara had one girlfriend.

But if Aoba had one… what about the other schools?

After fleeing the scene, Kitahara returned to the convention center to retrieve his motorbike.

By the time he got back to his apartment, it was nearly 9 PM.

He was just debating whether to study or shower first when—

He opened the door…

And almost had a heart attack.

There was someone standing silently in the hallway.

His brain froze.

Then he saw—Yozakura Hitomi, arms crossed, leaning against the wall.

“You scared the crap outta me! Why didn’t you turn on a light?!”

---

T/N: hmmmm i wonder how everything will turn out, also didnt he get 500k points i wonder if hes saving it up

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!