Weren’t You Only Using Me As A Stand-in? [121]

Outside the convention hall, Doma Umaru stood hugging a body-length cat plush taller than she was. She looked up at Kitahara Takeru and said softly, “Takeru-kun… thanks for today.”

Takeru smiled. “If you really want to thank me, you should consider going out with me.”

“Give it up already. I’m not planning to date anyone right now.”

A faint blush bloomed across Umaru’s cheeks as she glared at him with embarrassed frustration.

Why does he start every sentence with “date me” and end with “go out with me”?

He felt like the type of guy who treated relationships too lightly.

“Be careful on your way home.”

“Mm.”

“Text me when you get back.”

“No way!”

Umaru let out a bratty little huff and turned away.

But just a few steps later, she seemed to remember something and spun around, ready to call after him.

Only to find Takeru still standing in the same spot, hands in his pockets.

Umaru tilted her head, golden strands of hair sliding down her shoulder like glittering threads.

“Why aren’t you going in?”

“I wanted to see you off.”

Takeru’s eyes curved like a crescent moon, a faint smile playing on his lips.

The breeze rustled the leaves, and sunlight filtered through the branches, spilling across his face and catching in her lashes.

Umaru’s heart skipped a beat.

She instinctively hugged the plush in her arms tighter, and the strong, stubborn words on the tip of her tongue softened into a small murmur: “N-Next time, I’m going to take first place nationally.”

The moment grades were mentioned, the gentle warmth in Takeru’s face vanished. He looked utterly serious, even a little smug.

“No way. That’s not happening.”

He was a score maniac.

He could yield on almost anything—but not this.

“Number one can only be me.”

Umaru blinked in shock at how fast his whole demeanor flipped. Her mouth opened slightly.

The soft, sweet atmosphere from just seconds ago evaporated instantly.

After a long pause—almost half a minute—Umaru found her voice again, her tone rising to meet his.

“No. I’m the one who’ll be number one!”

Takeru narrowed his eyes. “Doma-san, are you challenging me?”

Umaru lifted her chin, revealing the elegant line of her jaw. “Yes.”

The Doma family only played with talent.

And when it came to talent—she’d never feared anyone.

“Ranked fourth nationally, huh? Gotta admire your guts.”

Takeru stepped out from the shade and stopped right in front of her, his voice thick with smug superiority.

She may be a natural genius, but I’m basically a walking cheat code.

Even Wang Mang couldn’t beat Liu Xiu—and she thought she could take down a god?

“You’re getting all cocky over being one point ahead? You’re only ranked third.”

“A point’s still a point.”

“I barely studied for that exam.”

“Oh, so now we’re making excuses. No wonder you only made it to fourth.”

“Oh please, you beat me under unfair conditions. And it was only by one point. You’ve got nothing to be smug about.”

The two stood toe-to-toe, every line sharp, every word loaded. Sparks flew in the air.

“Wanna bet on it, Miss National Rank Four? See who takes first next time?”

“Sure, Rank Three.”

“If you lose, you have to go on a date with me.”

After dancing around it for so long, Takeru finally revealed his true aim.

“…So that’s what this was about.”

“Wait—you didn’t fall for that?”

Takeru blinked in disbelief.

But this is the part in every romance novel where the girl falls for the obvious provocation and agrees, right?

Umaru just raised an eyebrow.

“Only an idiot would fall for that.”

Since the bait didn’t work, Takeru immediately switched tactics—straight to low-down blackmail.

“Doma-san, you wouldn’t want your classmates to find out you came to this con, right?”

“You…!!”

Umaru’s eyes went wide, nearly round.

She had never met someone so shameless.

When deception failed, he resorted to threats?!

Takeru grinned wickedly. “So? You in?”

Umaru glared murderously at him but didn’t say anything.

“Great. I’ll take that as a yes.”

Staring at her now—puffed-up cheeks, watery eyes, bristling with bratty rage—Takeru found her way too cute and couldn’t resist reaching out to squish her soft cheek.

Maybe he was being a little bold, a little too forward—but a lot of “good girls” really did fall for this kind of cocky bad-boy charm.

“Hands off! I’m leaving!”

Umaru slapped his hand away and stormed off with puffed cheeks and flaring steps.

Takeru stood where he was, watching her go until her silhouette finally disappeared into the crowd. Then he turned and headed back toward Eriri’s booth.

This was where he’d agreed to meet Kitagawa Marin.

But by the time he got back, neither Marin nor Gojo Wakana had arrived.

What he did find was Shota and Kota squatting by the wall, utterly dejected, like a pair of Tom Cats dumped by their goddesses.

“You got rejected?”

Takeru didn’t even need to ask. He already knew.

“Takeru… are we really that bad?” Shota mumbled, thoroughly depressed.

Kota looked at him too, clearly seeking reassurance.

“You’re not. You’re both great.”

Takeru wasn’t just saying that.

Shota was a top student at one of Tokyo’s most elite private high schools—on par with Shuchiin. His grades placed him in the top thousand nationwide, he was athletic, decent-looking, and already the ace of the baseball team in his first year.

Kota wasn’t much worse off either.

The truth was, the two of them were better than most guys out there by a long shot.

“Then why’d she give her contact to that fat dude and not me?”

Shota pointed indignantly at a chubby guy taking cosplay photos nearby.

Takeru glanced over. “Maybe he’s good at photography?”

“Being a photographer’s that big a deal with girls?”

“Pretty much.”

Everyone he knew who did photography had girls swarming around them.

Kota looked like he just had a revelation. “So that’s why you picked up photography?”

“Don’t lump me in with those guys, thanks.”

He hadn’t sunk to using a camera to pick up girls. Yet.

“In that case, I’m buying a camera. What kind’s good? How’s Nikon?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not? Is Nikon bad?”

Takeru considered how to explain this without getting technical, then shrugged.

“In our circle, there’s a saying: ‘Canon shooters get so many WeChat adds they can’t keep up. Nikon shooters crawl out of the reeds like, “That bird just now was amazing.”’”

“…So after hearing that, you still want a Nikon?”

“Got it!”
“Understood!”

After that little pep talk, their spirits improved slightly.

“Um… can I take a photo with you?”

Before they could fully recover, a shy cosplayer dressed as Lumine walked over, clutching her phone. Her voice was soft and hesitant.

“Sure.”

Takeru was too tall, so he bent down a bit to match her height for the picture.

“Can I get a little closer?”

“Go ahead.”

“Thank you.”

Under Shota and Kota’s soul-shattered glares, the Lumine cosplayer got close enough for their faces to touch in the photo.

Not satisfied with one, she leaned into his chest for a second shot.

“Sensei, can I get your contact info?”

Takeru shook his head. “Sorry. My fishpond is full.”

Shota: ノ）'Д' )

Kota: (キ｀Д)！！

Seriously?! Who taught you to say things like that?!

If your pond’s full—expand it!

Or at least throw a few our way!

“…Sorry to bother you.”

The girl looked disappointed and turned to leave.

“We actually have contact info too!” Shota offered quickly.

Kota nodded frantically in support.

The girl looked at them blankly and said without a hint of emotion: “I don’t have a phone.”

Shota: “…”

Kota: “…”

Then what are you holding right now? A brick?

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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!