Weren’t You Only Using Me As A Stand-in? [83]

After finishing the meeting, Kitahara Takeru’s stomach was growling, so he wandered over to a street-side food cart for a bite.

Shirogane Kei didn’t know where he was going—she just followed him instinctively.

Takeru picked a random seat and sat down, calling out to the stall owner:

“Granny, two orders of takoyaki, please.”

“Oh! Kitahara, it’s you. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Been busy working lately.”

“Young folks still need to take care of themselves. Hold on, I’ll make you a few extra.”

“Granny, I love you!”

The stall owner was a kindly old woman, probably in her seventies, with silver hair and a gentle face.

Normally, people her age didn’t have much to talk about with teenagers.

But Takeru was... well, somehow socially cracked.

Everyone on this street knew him.

No matter the age, people would greet him on sight and chat like old friends.

This ease, this ability to connect with anyone without awkwardness or self-consciousness—it made Kei a little envious.

Sometimes people fall short simply because they don’t know how to express themselves.

She was a prime example.

She didn’t actually dislike her brother. But being in her rebellious phase, paired with Shirogane Miyuki’s suffocating overprotectiveness and her fear of being seen as a brocon, she always acted cold toward him—sometimes even cruel.

“Is the girl with you your girlfriend? She’s really pretty.”

The sudden cuteness ambushed her. Kei’s cool mask cracked—her cheeks flushed pink.

She might be going through puberty, but she was still a girl. Being complimented on her looks embarrassed her.

Only… this sweet old lady had clearly gotten the wrong idea.

“No, Granny, she’s not my girlfriend.”

Takeru cut in before Kei could speak, firmly denying it.

He wasn’t that degenerate—she was still in middle school, for crying out loud.

“Not, huh?” Granny flipped the takoyaki balls with practiced ease. “But you two really look like a couple.”

Takeru sighed. “You’ve said that to every pair that walks past your stall. Can’t you come up with a new line?”

Nearly every couple that stopped by heard the same thing from her.

And every one of those couples… eventually broke up.

Granny scooped the takoyaki onto plates and placed one in front of Takeru.

“Back then it was just small talk. This time, I mean it.”

Couple-like?

Kei felt all the blood in her body rush to her ears.

She didn’t need a mirror to know how red she was.

She was just a middle schooler. Talk like that—it was too early, too explosive.

She couldn’t help glancing at Takeru.

He was handsome—almost unnaturally so. His features were finely sculpted, like a photo touched up by a beauty filter. Pale skin, smooth and flawless.

His eyes were deep and expressive, with layers of light and shadow—mysterious and bright, like a lake that pulled you in.

Maybe it was the heat, but the top three buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing elegant collarbones and a faint rise and fall of his chest.

The longer she stared, the thirstier she felt.

I need water...

“Here you go.”

A glass of iced water was placed in front of her.

Kei looked up—straight into the kind eyes of Granny.

“Getting old—I forgot to bring you water.”

“Th-thank you.”

Kei blushed hard, like a kid caught doing something naughty, and lowered her head to sip her water in tiny gulps.

Takeru, oblivious, was devouring his takoyaki like popcorn.

Soon, Kei’s plate arrived too.

She muttered a soft “Thanks,” and picked one up with a toothpick.

Takeru popped one into his mouth in a single bite. Kei needed three to finish one.

By the time she was done eating, it was already 4:30 p.m.

“I’m thinking of going fishing. Wanna come?”

Takeru had planned to rest after today, but now that he was full, the sleepiness had passed.

He’d been exhausted the last few days—today, he had to make time to cast a few lines.

Kei thought for a moment. Her fish supply was running low anyway—time to restock.

“Sure, but can you wait while I drop my things off at home?”

She’d come straight from school, still carrying her backpack.

“No problem. Let’s meet at the convenience store later.”

Takeru agreed, then added, “Leave your fishing rod today. Use mine.”

He wanted to test something—whether his poor fishing results were the rod’s fault, or his.

“Okay.”

They parted ways and headed home.

Takeru returned in high spirits, only to find Yozakura Hitomi—who’d been gone for a while—lounging on his couch.

Her beautifully sculpted legs, smooth and elegant like jade, were propped up on the low table.

Her petite feet, flawless and pink-toed like five tiny pearls, flexed gently as she glanced down at her tablet.

“You’re back?”

She didn’t look up—just wiggled her toes like a casual wave.

Takeru watched her for a second before setting his things down.

“When’d you get back?”

Hitomi often disappeared for days at a time. He was used to it.

“Midday.”

She put the tablet aside, massaged the corners of her eyes, and closed them.

“Where’s Tiny?”

“I left him at a friend’s place for now.”

Apparently, Tiny had gotten way too comfortable with Nakano Yotsuba and wasn’t eager to return.

Since Takeru saw him every morning during jogs anyway, he didn’t bother dragging him back.

As far as he was concerned, as long as the dog was alive, it was fine.

“A friend’s place?”

A cold smirk played at the corner of Hitomi’s lips.

“A girl?”

Takeru suddenly felt like a husband coming home to be interrogated by a jealous wife.

“You make it sound like I only hang out with girls.”

“So you don’t?”

Her gaze was sharp, amused.

If she hadn’t had someone tailing him, she wouldn’t have known just how good he was at attracting attention.

She was gone for a few days, and in that time he’d gotten tangled with Kashiwagi Nagisa, Shijō Maki, Shinomiya Kaguya, and Ryūtō Momo—all women even she had to take seriously.

Even that Katsura Kotonoha he’d run into last time—she looked into it afterward and discovered the girl wasn’t simple either.

Should’ve broken his legs and kept him chained by my side from the start...

Takeru had gone to grab his fishing gear and missed the shadowy glint in Hitomi’s eyes.

“Anyway, I joined the kendo club today too,” he said as he came out, rod on his back and tackle box in hand.

Her expression was back to normal.

“Going fishing?”

“Yup. Wanna come?”

“I don’t want to waste time with you.”

She stood and stretched—arching her back like a cat, her slim figure outlined by the motion.

“Besides, you won’t catch anything.”

She didn’t wait to see his face darken with anger, just twisted her waist and sauntered into his bedroom—slam.

“You’ve gone too far!”

Takeru’s face flushed red, like a furious duck.

The last time he was this mad was when he lost three straight in Naruto, got tea-bagged, queued into bots, and got comboed to death.

The humiliation!

“You just wait—I will catch a ten-pound fish today!”

He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Hitomi flopped onto his bed, hugging his blanket and drifting to sleep with the scent of sunshine on her nose.

As for his declaration? She didn’t even hear it.

With Takeru’s garbage-tier fishing skills, him catching a fish would be like Japan’s national soccer team winning the World Cup.

---

Climbing the rusty stairs up to her apartment floor, Kei felt her underwear clinging to her skin from sweat.

She sniffed herself.

Do I smell?

“I’ll reek for sure...” she muttered.

She was at an age where appearances mattered.

Her family couldn’t afford skincare or nice clothes like other girls, but at the very least, she wanted to appear clean—to maintain what little pride she had.

To Kei, it was okay to be poor. Okay to wear plain clothes.
But never okay to be dirty—to look sloppy or unkempt in front of others.

This had nothing to do with liking Kitahara-senpai.

She just didn’t want people thinking she stank.

“I’ll wash up.”

It might waste water, but she was determined to scrub herself clean before meeting him again.

“What are you washing?”

As she pulled out her key, Kei looked up—and nearly jumped out of her skin.

Her brother was right there, staring at her.

“Ahhh!”

She dropped the key with a loud clink.

Her expression darkened.

“You scared me!”

“Sorry.”

Shirogane Miyuki, for all his scary face and threatening aura, was actually pretty soft-spoken.

“I heard someone coming up and thought it might be you. So I came out to check.”

He didn’t know why Kei had gotten so moody since puberty hit, but he still tried to explain.

“Hmph.”

Kei snorted.

“I’m not a kid anymore. I don’t need you waiting at the door.”

Inside, she was a little happy.

But in her rebellious phase, there was no way she’d ever say something like ‘Thanks, Onii-chan!’—so she just scowled.

“You’ll always be a kid to me, Kei.”

Miyuki reached out and patted her head.

Kei’s eyes flickered.

But she slapped his hand away, flipped her hair, and strolled in coolly.

“So gross.”

She tossed down her bag, grabbed fresh clothes, and went straight into the bathroom.

“You’re showering this early? The water isn’t ready.”

“It’s fine. I just need a quick rinse—I’m going back out.”

She shut the door before he could say anything else.

“Going out?”

Miyuki blinked.

Something was off today.

Spacing out at the door, rushing to shower, and heading back out?

It sounded like she was cleaning up to meet someone.

Is Kei... in love?

The thought flashed through his mind—and he immediately shook it off.

No way.

There’s no way Kei’s dating anyone.

She’s probably just going out with friends.

Besides, with such an outstanding big brother, it’s not like just anyone could measure up, right?

He didn’t dwell on it and went to the kitchen to cook.

As he fried vegetables, Kei stepped out—washed, dressed, and even blow-dried her hair.

She went into her “room”—a space partitioned by a curtain.

When she came back out, Miyuki nearly dropped the spatula.

She was wearing makeup.

Not heavy. Just a light touch. But obvious enough.

He couldn’t help it anymore.

“You’re going out? With who? A guy or girl? When will you be back? Should I save you dinner? Didn’t I tell you to let me know if you won’t be back for dinner—”

“SHUT UP ALREADY!”

Kei snapped.

“You nag like a mom! I’ve had enough! I’m not a kid—can you not treat me like one?!”

Miyuki looked wounded.

“But what choice do I have?”

“There’s no mom in this house.”

“If I don’t say something, who will?!”

Here we go again.

He always treated her like a child.

To Kei, proud and sensitive, that was the worst.

“Exactly. That’s the most disgusting part!”

She slammed the door and stormed out.

“Wait—!”

By the time Miyuki turned off the stove, tossed off his apron, and ran after her, it was too late.

She was already outside—leaning casually against a motorcycle.

Next to her was a buzz-cut guy, ear pierced, oozing bad-boy energy as he smirked.

Not far away, a dad fresh off work paused mid-step, stunned by the sight.

Blonde punk. Ghost-flamed bike. Schoolgirl. Aging boomer. The whole cast.
(Kitahara Takeru: Rude! It’s white hair! Are you blind?!)

She cleaned up just to meet him?

Miyuki froze.

The precious little sister he’d protected his whole life, the one he never let suffer, was into this guy?

Suddenly, he really regretted not bringing his cleaver.

---

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!