Weren’t You Only Using Me As A Stand-in? [81]

By the time the clock struck 3:40 in the afternoon, the final exam was over, and once the homeroom teacher finished their speech, the end-of-term deep cleaning began.

Due to his height, Kitahara Takeru was in charge of cleaning the blackboard.

After scrubbing it until it gleamed, he clapped his hands with satisfaction.

“Shōta, Kōta, I’m heading to the kendo club first.”

After greeting the two, Takeru grabbed his already-packed schoolbag with one hand and made his way to the club.

“Takeru, wait for me!”

Seeing this, Kamikawa Rie tossed the broom she’d been using to a fellow student helping her clean and dashed off with her bag.

They passed through the courtyard lined with blooming cherry trees and stopped in front of the club building, pausing by the bulletin board.

It was plastered with club recruitment posters.

[Looking for sparring partners and pros. No PlayStation dogs allowed. — Video Game Club]

Nintendo stans, huh?

Where there are Nintendo fans, PlayStation diehards are never far behind.

Takeru looked up, whether on purpose or not, and sure enough, just above the Video Game Club’s poster was another:

[Seeking newbies. Guiding fresh players. No Nintendo pigs or dogs allowed. — Game Enthusiasts Club]

As expected.

Takeru smirked, that classic I totally saw this coming expression on full display.

He kept reading.

[Unleash your youth, strengthen your body — Join the Track & Field Club!]

Thinking of the track team, a line flashed through Takeru’s mind: That torrential rain ruined my college dreams.

[Reach the unreachable heavens, shoot down the untouchable dream — Watch closely, this arrow pierces the stars. — Archery Club]

Damn, that’s fire.

Staring at the Archery Club’s recruitment poster, Takeru suddenly felt a strong urge to join.

“Ah, found it! Kendo Club is here.”

Rie pointed, and Takeru followed her gaze.

[Hurry hurry hurry and duel with me??? — Kendo Club]

Takeru: “...”

Was this even serious kendo?

Also, why was their promo so hilariously lame compared to the Archery Club?

If it weren’t for him buying [Swords Mastery], he wouldn’t be caught dead joining the Kendo Club.

“Let’s go.”

Once they confirmed the location, the two walked through the side yard and followed a shaded path to the kendo dojo.

Even before entering, Takeru could already hear the sharp, repetitive clash of bamboo swords.

Seijo, as an elite private school in Tokyo, had produced more than its share of powerful alumni. With deep-pocketed backers, they practically had endless funds.

According to intel from Ōtani Shōta, Seijo’s club funding each year was more than double that of Shuchi'in Academy.

The principal, keen on student achievement, never hesitated to invest.

Take the soccer club, for example. To get students used to real match conditions, the school had laid down genuine grass on the field—not artificial turf. Maintaining that grass alone cost millions annually.

Though the kendo dojo wasn’t as extravagant, it was far from lacking.

Takeru slid the dojo doors open and scanned the interior.

Traditional wooden structure. The dojo was huge—about the size of two basketball courts. Simple design: polished tung oil floors, no fancy décor, and not a single trophy or award in sight.

There weren’t many people inside.

Roughly twenty, at most.

Kendo had always been a niche sport in Japan. Compared to the soccer, baseball, or volleyball clubs, it wasn’t even in the same league.

With newcomers arriving, several members paused their sparring and cast curious glances toward the door.

Their eyes landed on Rie for a moment before shifting to Takeru.

Close-cropped hair, a bold, unrestrained glint in his eyes, and a black earring in his left ear—many already recognized him.

How could they not?

The episode of the singing show he did with Hoshino Ai had gone viral yesterday.

As soon as it aired, views broke 2 million, and it was retweeted over 210,000 times.

Quite a few Seijo students had seen it. The school now had a new visual king in their midst.

“Pardon the intrusion.”

Takeru bowed slightly, removed his shoes at the entrance, and stepped in.

Tōchi Taku, the Kendo Club captain, waited until Takeru approached before greeting him politely.

“Kitahara-kun, what brings you to the Kendo Club today?”

Taku had thick brows, a serious face—he didn’t exactly look easy to get along with.

Still, his tone was friendly.

“Senpai, I’d like to join the Kendo Club,” Takeru replied without hesitation.

Taku’s stern face broke into a wide grin. He turned and yelled toward a nearby girl with a low ponytail.

“Rina! Quick, bring the membership forms!”

The school didn’t have strict requirements for clubs. Even if a club only had three members, Seijo still funded it.

Why?

Because they were loaded.

Flat-out filthy rich.

No hard cap on member counts, but the more members, the more funding you could request.

There’s a big difference between funding for three people and thirty.

Even if you joined in name only, your head still counted when they calculated budgets.

Which is why every year during freshman recruitment, upperclassmen practically sweated blood pulling kids into their clubs—bribing, pleading, tricking them if they had to. Even if the newbies never showed up again, no one complained.

Who didn’t want a bigger slice of the club budget pie?

Scamming payroll — a global tradition.

That’s why Taku was so thrilled.

And not just him. The other members’ gazes toward Takeru were warm, almost like they were welcoming a long-lost brother.

If he was a fellow transmigrator, though, it’d be less teary-eyed reunion and more Gilgamesh meets Illya — straight up Heart Stealer.

“Yes, sir!”

The round-faced, short-legged girl called Rina dashed off like her life depended on it, afraid Takeru might vanish the next second.

“Kitahara-kun, come on, I’ll show you around. Oh, I’m Tōchi Taku, the captain.”

Despite his intense appearance, Taku offered a very enthusiastic handshake.

The moment their hands touched, Takeru could feel the calluses on his fingers — no doubt from constant training with a bamboo sword.

Rie’s expression flickered with disgust. She covered her nose and took several steps back.

From a distance, it hadn’t been noticeable. But up close, that sweaty stench hit like a biochemical weapon — pungent enough to pickle your soul.

Takeru smelled it too.

Kendo gear was infamously smelly.

So much padding, rarely washed, and daily training left every piece soaked in sweat — even your underwear. Of course it reeked.

But he couldn’t let it show.

“Sorry,”

Taku knew exactly how bad he smelled.

Compared to him, this younger student... smelled kind of nice?

Was he wearing cologne or something?

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Kitahara-kun!”

Just as Taku was about to start the tour, the short-legged Rina came sprinting back.

“I’m Tōchi Rina, Tōchi Taku’s sister and the club’s manager. If you’ve got any questions in the future, just come ask me!”

She was tiny—barely pushing 150 cm. Probably shorter than even Shirogane Kei.

Honestly, she looked more like a middle schooler.

Round cheeks, baby fat still clinging on. When she smiled, she was like a sunflower—radiant and sunny.

Takeru had to fight the urge to pinch her cheeks.

“I told you, call me senpai while we’re at school!” Taku scolded her, trying to put on the older-brother act.

“Onii-chan, unless you want Dad to smack you upside the head, shut up.”

Rina wasn’t the least bit afraid of her brother.

Taku might be king of the school, but at home? He ranked below even their pet Pomeranian, Mii-chan.

Taku choked and decided to ignore her. “Our club has great facilities — a huge dojo for our use, school-supplied armor, and even showers in the locker rooms...”

He went on and on about the club’s perks, but through Takeru’s filter, it all translated to:

Big dojo, but you’ll have to mop it yourself.

We have public armor. It’s disgusting. Just deal with it.

Yeah. He saw right through it.

There was still one question weighing on Takeru’s mind. He couldn’t quite find the right moment until Taku paused for breath.

“Senpai, it’s so hot—why not turn on the air conditioning?”

High EQ: Why don’t you turn on the AC in this weather?

Low EQ: Do you guys even have AC?

It was midsummer. Takeru was already drenched just from standing there.

The moment he spoke, the dojo went eerily silent.

Rina’s smile vanished.

Taku suddenly slammed both hands on Takeru’s shoulders, gripping tight.

“There will be AC, I swear. I’m working on the application.”

Translation: They failed to get it.

So all that flashiness, and no air con?

Takeru forced a smile. “...Senpai, could you let go of me?”

“Not until you promise you’ll stay.”

Taku’s grip tightened.

“Fine, I promise.”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Then why ask?!”

“Buying time.”

Takeru looked around. The other club members had already surrounded him.

Rina was locking the door.

Watching them move in sync, it was clear this wasn’t their first rodeo.

“Sign it, Kitahara-kun.”

“Don’t fight it, you’re already surrounded.”

“If you don’t wanna write it yourself, we’ll fill it in. Just give us your thumbprint.”

They all grinned like hungry demons eyeing a juicy slab of monk meat.

Takeru struggled. “I changed my mind—I wanna go home!”

Damn that Tanaka Kōta. Lied to him!

Where was all that high funding? Did the soccer team pocket it for sea cucumbers?

No matter how much Takeru resisted, in the end, with a dozen sweaty guys pinning him down, he pressed his thumbprint on the form.

Congratulations. He was now officially a member of the Kendo Club.

Rie had watched the whole thing from the sidelines, never once stepping in.

Because if he joined the Kendo Club, they’d be spending way more time together.

So what if he liked Shinomiya Kaguya?

Just because there’s a goalie doesn’t mean you can’t score.

Not only would she score—she’d do it right in front of Kaguya’s face.

As a club member, Takeru was free to use the dojo equipment.

He picked up a shinai and inspected it.

This model was 3 shaku 8 sun long—about 115 centimeters. Made of four slats of matured keichiku bamboo over three years old.

The hilt and certain parts were wrapped in cowhide and tied with durable nylon string.

In Japanese sword training, real blades, replicas, and wooden swords might all be used, but all posed significant danger.

The widespread use of bamboo swords made practice safer and allowed kendo to develop as a sport.

Even so, improper use or missing gear could still cause serious injury—or worse. So safety was paramount.

Takeru gave it a few test swings. The fluid, natural motion stirred old memories—of being a kid with a stick, playing sword-fighter, slicing through air and falling blossoms.

And just as he suspected—

This passive skill only activated once he held a sword.

Gundalf’s Swordsmanship: Kendo Edition.

“Captain, can I spar with you?” Takeru asked, itching for a match.

He was dying to test his new battle power.

“Sure thing.”

Taku didn’t hesitate.

“Kitahara-kun, you probably don’t know how to wear armor yet, right? I’ll help you.” Rina walked over, gear in her arms.

“No need, I’ll do it.”

Rie swooped in like a protective mama hen, snatching the armor away.

“Do you even know how to put it on, Kamikawa-san?”

Rina grabbed it back.

“I’ll Google it!”

Rie took it again.

While the two girls wrestled over the armor, Takeru rested the shinai on his shoulder.

“Actually, I’m fine without gear.”

With master-level evasion, he was feeling pretty cocky.

Okay, mostly he just couldn’t stomach the idea of wearing something that foul-smelling.

One whiff nearly made him barf up lunch.

“No way!” x2

Rie and Rina shouted in unison.

“Kitahara-kun, even with bamboo swords, it can still be dangerous. You could really get hurt,” Rina pleaded.

“She’s right, Kitahara-kun. Better safe than sorry,” Taku added earnestly.

After endless persuasion from the three of them—and the rest of the club—Takeru finally gave in and geared up.

No choice. Taku wouldn’t spar without it.

Both sides readied themselves. Rina stood between them, taking the role of referee.

“Bow!”

Takeru and Taku bowed.

“Prepare!”

With her call, Taku raised his shinai in a formal high stance, aiming for a decisive strike.

Takeru gripped his shinai with one hand, blade angled casually toward the floor.

---

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!