Weren’t You Only Using Me As A Stand-in? [139]

Kitahara Takeru stared at the small hand tugging at his sleeve for a long moment before finally saying,

“Mornings are a no. I don’t like riding the subway.”

That was the whole reason he bought a bike in the first place.

Honestly, if he were old enough, he’d have gone for an Audi.
Not that kind of Audi (the toy line), but the real big-boy Audi.

“…I understand.”

Hearing his answer, Katsura Kotonoha slowly lowered her head. Her hand dropped limply to her side, like all the strength had been drained from her.

Watching her fall into such visible disappointment, Kitahara reached out and flicked her forehead with a finger.

Kotonoha instinctively looked up. Kitahara chuckled.

“But, see… I do like money. And lucky for both of us, you’ve got plenty of it.”

“If you’re willing to spend, I can spend time with you—just not in the mornings.”

Kotonoha blinked, then quickly caught on.

“Kitahara-kun, you mean… as long as I pay, I can book you?”

Kitahara corrected her with a dead-serious tone:
“Dates. Not booking.”

What kind of man do you take me for? You think a few thousand yen is enough to “book” me?

Of course, if you offered me a million yen, you could call me whatever you want tonight. I wouldn’t even need to be human.

“So? Would you like to be my Master—my sponsor?”

Kotonoha nodded like a bobblehead. “Yes, I do. I would.”

“Then it’s settled.”

He ruffled her hair lightly, but deep down, Kitahara was filled with self-loathing.

Kitahara, you’ve fallen.

Sure, he’d always loved money—but at least he used to have principles.

Now? His conscience was gone too.

He didn’t even care whether the girl had a boyfriend or not.

That said, without a conscience, his income had gone up quite a bit.

Guess the ancients were right:

If you lose money, you can earn it back. But if you lose your conscience… you’ll earn even more.

Damn it, this is all Kashiwagi Nagisa’s fault!

Kitahara blamed her entirely for what he’d become.

If it weren’t for her, would he have turned out like this?

The once-disciplined, self-restrained Kitahara Takeru was fuming. He pulled out his phone and fired off a message:

[If I ever turn into someone I don’t recognize, it’ll be all your fault.]

No sooner had he tucked his phone away than it buzzed again.

[Kashiwagi Nagisa]: Pick one
(image.jpg) (image.jpg) (image.jpg)...

Kitahara’s screen was immediately flooded with pictures—Nagisa’s legs in every kind of stocking imaginable: sheer black, pure white, skin-tone, red, fishnet, glossy, over-the-knee, ankle, lace-trimmed, polka-dot, floral print, garter, bubble socks, even ballet cross-tie tights.

It was a sensory overload.

How am I supposed to choose from all this?

I can’t even see them all clearly!

[Kitahara]: Just pick whatever. Why are you asking me?

[Nagisa]: Next time we meet, I’ll let you play with my legs~

How dare you.

What kind of man do you think I am, Kashiwagi Nagisa?

Furious, Kitahara jabbed at his phone like he was trying to stab her through the screen.

[Black stockings with white ankle socks.]

[Nagisa] Got it.

[Nagisa]: Next time, invite Maki too. We’ll keep it hush-hush~

What did Shijō Maki ever do to deserve a friend like you?

Can you stop tormenting that poor girl?

Kitahara gave her a mental moment of silence.

When he finally put away his phone and looked up, Kotonoha was staring at him with her deep violet eyes, unblinking.

Her gaze made his skin crawl—like all the hair on his body stood on end.

“…What is it, Kitahara-kun?”

“…Nothing. Let’s go.”

Kotonoha nodded obediently. “Okay.”

They passed through the underground tunnel and exited the station. Time to part ways.

“Kitahara-kun, here.”

Before leaving, Kotonoha held out the bottle of lemon water she’d been carrying this whole time.

“Thanks, Kotonoha.”

He used her first name again.

Kotonoha blushed instantly.

Kitahara watched her reaction and felt a pang of shame.

I can’t believe I was actually scared of her just now.

What exactly am I afraid of? That she’d stab me or something?

“I’m off.”

He waved and turned to leave.

Kotonoha stood by the subway entrance, watching his back grow smaller until it vanished into the crowd. Only then did she open her umbrella and melt into the stream of people heading toward Sakakino Academy.

Because of Kotonoha, Kitahara had wasted a lot of time.

Still, he managed to slip into the classroom just before the bell rang.

But the moment he walked in, he could tell something was off.

It wasn’t just quiet—the room felt dead.

Normally, there’d be chatter and noise. Today? Nothing.

The whole class was silent, like a funeral wake.

Even usually loudmouthed Tanaka Kōta and Ōtani Shōta were sitting upright in their seats, throwing him wild glances.

What are they trying to tell me?

Unfortunately, Kitahara had studied female psychology—not male. He couldn’t decipher their frantic looks.

He made his way to his seat and had just set his bag down when a small pale hand grabbed his tie—and yanked.

Caught off guard, Kitahara almost slammed face-first into his desk.

Irritated, he looked up—and locked eyes with Kamikawa Rie’s icy, frostbitten gaze.

He’d never seen her look like this before.

He gulped. “Wh-what’s wrong?”

Her lips parted coolly:
“Outside.”

With those two words, the entire class seemed to vanish like smoke.

In the blink of an eye, it was just the two of them in the room. The last student out even closed the door behind them.

“You had a lot of fun this weekend, huh?”

“…Rie, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She smirked and pulled out a stack of photos.

“Then maybe you can explain this little story between you and Miura Yumiko?”

The first photo: Yumiko grabbing his collar, clearly confronting him.

She dropped another.

“Yukinoshita Yukino’s pretty cute, isn’t she?”

Photo: Yukino hiding behind him, scared of a dog.

Another.

“Adagaki Aki’s pretty, right?”

Photo: Aki stomping on his foot.

“And I heard you confessed to Doma Umaru?”

Photo: Him seeing Umaru off outside a convention center.

“Been flirting with Kitagawa Marin too?”

Photo: Kitahara walking her like a dog on a leash.

“Met a new little sister, huh? When do I get to meet her?”

Photo: Him exchanging contact info with Yasuraoka Hanabi.

One photo for each name. One accusation for each image.

Kitahara tensed up like a deer in headlights. Eyes darting. Mouth shut tight. Clearly struggling to keep his composure.

“Kitahara Takeru… you’ve got some balls.”

With all the photos on the desk now, Rie curled her lips into a vicious smile.

“Most guys juggle two girls at most. You? You’re running a full chain ferry from Tokyo to Chiba.”

“I go out for sanitary pads and I run into nine girls tied to you.”

“What are you—Japan’s version of Duan Zhengchun?!”

Her fingers were slender and elegant, soft and pale like fresh willow branches, a shade of pink so delicate it looked like fine porcelain.

And now those beautiful hands were wrapped tightly around Kitahara’s throat.

“Speak.”

“Tell me—how do you want to die?”

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T/N: Duan Zhengchun is an emperor and also YESSSS KILL HIM RIEEEE

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!