Weren’t You Only Using Me As A Stand-in? [77]

“It’s me, Ryūtō-san—please help me.”

Kitahara Takeru didn’t care how Ryūtō Momo recognized him. Right now, getting out of this situation took top priority.

Ryūtō Momo narrowed her eyes further, her expression growing stranger by the second.

Hoh? It really is him?

She had honestly thought she’d mistaken him for someone else.

“Auntie, he’s with me. Go find someone else.”

Her tone was flat, unreadable.

Just like that perpetually uninterested expression she wore—as if nothing in the world could faze her—Ryūtō Momo rarely showed emotion of any kind.

“Miss Ryūtō, I specifically picked him! Isn’t it a bit rude of you to cut in halfway?”

Sanka Aria clearly recognized Ryūtō Momo too.

It was evident that she belonged to the kind of list labeled: People You Don’t Piss Off.

Even her wine-blurred eyes suddenly regained a bit of clarity.

But to just let Kitahara Takeru go like this? That she couldn't accept.

This wasn’t about want anymore—this was about face.

“You’re trying to reason with me?”

Ryūtō’s eyes lifted slightly. She didn’t move, just stared at Aria calmly.

But under that gaze, Aria felt a pressure she couldn’t explain.

It felt like Ryūtō might draw a gun at any moment.

She lifted the edge of her denim jacket and reached behind her waist.

In the dim light, Takeru and Aria both caught a glimpse—was that... a gun?

No way, sir! You’re really packing?!

Takeru was stunned. He never expected Ryūtō Momo to actually go for her gun over a few words.

Wasn’t Japan supposed to have some of the strictest gun laws in the world?

Where did she even get that thing?

“AAAAAHHHH!!!”

Sanka Aria shrieked. Her previously well-maintained face twisted in panic.

She spun around and bolted.

“H-he’s yours! You can have him!”

Aria had wanted to reason with Ryūtō.

The problem was—Ryūtō had the truth in her hand.

And she was not about to get Mozambique-drilled by some gangster girl over a guy.

Psycho. She’s an absolute psycho, Aria muttered internally as she fled.

And truth be told, Takeru was in no better shape.

He’d seen guns in movies plenty of times.

But in real life? This was a first.

If she pointed that thing at me—could my sword skill cut bullets?

Takeru stood there frozen, beads of sweat rolling down his temple. His whole body was drenched in cold sweat.

Ryūtō caught the look on his face—pale, terrified—and a hint of amusement flashed in her eyes.

Then, right in front of him, she actually drew the gun from her waistband.

And pointed it straight at him.

Then—she pulled the trigger.

Bang!

Takeru flinched, eyes snapping shut on instinct.

But after a long second, nothing happened.

That “bang” hadn’t even sounded real. More like a voiceover effect.

He cracked open an eye, just a slit, and peeked.

From the barrel of the “gun” emerged…

A lollipop.

“You’re not gonna try it? It’s actually kinda good.”

For once, Ryūtō’s normally cool, androgynous voice carried a teasing lilt.

Takeru finally took a good look at the “gun.”

It was a toy. A novelty candy dispenser.

They’d both been had.

Thinking about it now—it made sense.

No matter how crazy she was, Ryūtō wouldn’t actually pull a real gun and shoot someone in a crowded host club.

Right?

Right, Abe-chan?

The only reason he and Sanka Aria fell for it was because of Ryūtō’s background—they both immediately assumed it was real.

That’s what you’d call bias.

“You scared the hell out of me.”

Takeru bit down on the lollipop, glaring at her with a wounded, accusatory look.

“What were you expecting? I’m a law-abiding citizen,” Ryūtō said, flashing perfectly white teeth.

With a quick jerk of her arm, the lollipop popped into Takeru’s mouth, the dispenser twirled once in her hand, and she tucked it neatly back into her waistband.

“So tell me, Mr. Top Student at North High—what are you doing here? Looking to become a host?”

She crossed her arms, leaning against the wall, eyeing him sideways.

There was no denying—Ryūtō Momo really pulled off the whole “cool beauty” thing.

Takeru mirrored her posture, leaning back against the opposite wall.

“I came with a friend. Anyway, now it’s my turn. How’d you recognize me?”

“I thought you looked kinda familiar, so I called out. Didn’t expect it to actually be you.”

Honestly, she’d only recognized his build—his face didn’t ring any bells.

So, looks like Takeru’s makeup skills had improved.

As for why other women hadn’t caught on—it was probably because they were all too confident.

Every single one thought Watanabe Takeru loved only her. It never occurred to them he might be playing them all.

“It’s only been a little while, but you’ve really gone downhill. Is your Pretty Boy Pass expired already?” Ryūtō gave him a glance, then looked away.

Maybe it was because their first meeting had been too dazzling—now, looking at this version of him, she just felt... disappointed.

“I’m wearing makeup, alright?”

Looking good on campus doesn’t mean I owe it to the world when I’m off campus.

“Makeup?”

Ryūtō blinked.

This was the first time she’d seen someone make themselves uglier with cosmetics.

“You really outdid yourself. Just... don’t next time,” she advised kindly.

“Relax. Even if I stood right in front of you next time, you’d never recognize me,” Takeru said with full confidence.

Today’s disguise still resembled his actual face a little.

If he switched to his Aki Tomoya or Tanuma Tsubasa personas, there’s no way Ryūtō would ever know.

“Anyway, what about you? You here to spend money?” he asked.

Ryūtō shot him a glare. “Don’t talk nonsense. You think I’d be into these girly twinks?”

Having grown up in a yakuza family, Ryūtō had zero patience for effeminate guys.

She liked the musclebound, gruff type.

No joke—if she went one-on-one with any of the hosts here, she could probably beat them into the floor.

“Also—didn’t you say you were coming to Shuchi'in? Why’d you end up at Seijō instead?”

Their friendship actually dated back to the entrance exam period.

Back then, Takeru had been wandering around a school campus, totally lost, and randomly asked Ryūtō for directions.

He had no idea who she was—and that probably helped.

She gave him a tour. Despite the tough exterior, she was a decent person.

“If I’d gone to Shuchi'in, I’d just get bullied.”

Even though both Seijō and Shuchiin were elite private schools, and both had their fair share of rich kids, Seijō had a way healthier vibe.

Shuchiin, on the other hand, had its own cliques and rigid hierarchy—thanks to students staying there from elementary school through high school.

If you didn’t fit in from the start, good luck breaking into those social circles.

Even Shirogane Miyuki had a rough time there.

Seijō wasn’t like that.

It didn’t chew you up and spit you out if you didn’t come from money.

Ryūtō arched a brow. “With me around, who would dare bully you?”

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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!