Weren’t You Only Using Me As A Stand-in? [76]

“Wow, men like that actually exist?”

After hearing Kitahara Takeru recount what happened at dinner tonight, Yukinoshita Haruno’s eyes widened in disbelief, as if her entire worldview had just been upended.

“I always thought guys like that only existed in soap operas. Didn’t think I’d ever see one in real life.” Haruno held her cocktail glass in one hand, sighing with a mix of amusement and horror.

Takeru popped a slice of watermelon into his mouth. “That’s just because you’ve seen too little.”

Information cocoons weren’t exclusive to the internet—they existed in real life too.

Ordinary people, even when stretching the limits of their imagination, still couldn’t picture what life was really like for the wealthy.

And the wealthy, likewise, had no way of empathizing with ordinary people.

They couldn’t understand why some folks were poor their entire lives—and often assumed it was just because they didn’t work hard enough.

Haruno had grown up in a well-off family, surrounded by people just like her. Of course she’d never met a bizarre specimen like Umeno Kentarō.

If anything, it was Hiratsuka Shizuka running into a guy like him that felt like a statistical anomaly.

You could only call it a stroke of bad karma.

“I have seen too little.”

Haruno wasn’t the type who needed to win every argument or impose her worldview on others.

Sometimes, she was refreshingly honest.

Are they really sisters...? Takeru couldn’t help recalling that fierce argument he’d once had with Yukinoshita Yukino.

How can two siblings be so completely different?

As he thought, he tossed the last grape from the fruit platter into his mouth.

“Another round,” Haruno said, beckoning a nearby host and gesturing for another plate of fruit.

“That’s not necessary...” Takeru scratched his cheek, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Ever since arriving at this host club, he’d barely touched his drink—but he’d already wiped out multiple fruit platters.

Sprawled casually on the leather sofa, Haruno waved a hand. “Relax. The Yukinoshita family may not be royalty, but I’m not gonna go bankrupt over a few plates of fruit.”

Really though, she just found it amusing—watching Takeru munch away like a little hamster, cheeks puffed full, chomping contentedly. It was honestly kind of adorable.

Yup. The older sister is still better.

Compared to the second daughter, he definitely liked the eldest a bit more.

“Miss Haruno, I’m going to hit the restroom,” Takeru said.

Maybe it was the fruit, but this was already his second trip to the bathroom tonight.

While washing his hands, the stall next to him opened—and out walked a woman.

She looked to be in her early thirties. Short hair, clean and crisp. Sharp features. Her skin was a healthy bronze—not pale, not dark.

On her ring finger was a diamond big enough to pass as a pigeon egg. Married, clearly.

She smelled heavily of alcohol, and her cheeks were flushed with that familiar blotchiness that only came from serious drinking.

Takeru gave her a passing glance, then looked away.

Not surprising at all.

Japan’s infidelity rate was notoriously high—for both men and women. More than half of adults had cheated at least once.

Love?

Love was just... a matter of character and conscience in the end.

Don’t be fooled. Just because she was dressed provocatively and visiting a host club tonight didn’t mean she wouldn’t go home tomorrow and play the role of virtuous, devoted wife.

Poor guy, whoever’s married to that.

Takeru was still mid-thought, feeling a little sorry for her husband, when a sickly-sweet perfume suddenly enveloped him.

Next second, his face was forcibly turned to the side.

Sanka Aria was staring straight into his face, studying it intently.

Satisfied, she patted his cheek. “You—tonight, you're mine.”

Takeru jumped in surprise and immediately took a step back. “Nee-san, I’m not a host.”

Sure, this latest mission came with a very tempting reward, and he’d already started leaning toward “accepting”—he’d even brought it up with Haruno.

But now that the moment was actually here—standing on the threshold—his heart still hesitated. He wavered. He considered backing out.

Because he knew... if he crossed this line once, there would be a second time. Then a third. And eventually, he wouldn’t even recognize himself anymore.

And yet—he wasn’t quite ready to walk away either.

He was caught in the exact moral conundrum that Professor Luo Xiang once posed:

“If someone offered to ‘keep’ you for ¥500,000 a year, would you agree?”
“No? What about ¥5 million?”

Luo’s dilemma was theoretical.

Takeru, on the other hand, was facing it for real.

Sanka Aria tilted her head, still smiling. “Worried I can’t afford it?”

She clearly didn’t believe his “not a host” line.

What kind of man would come to a place like this if he wasn’t one?

“Don’t worry. I’ve got money to spare.”

“...Sanka family?” Takeru blinked. “Never heard of it.”

Honestly, he hadn’t.

There were just too many rich people in the world. He couldn’t possibly remember all of them.

“I’m the lady of the house.”

Clearly a few drinks in, Aria tapped her chest. “As long as you satisfy me tonight, money is no object.”

“Men like you... are just my type.”

She stepped forward to lean on him.

Takeru quickly sidestepped, letting her stumble past him.

“Ma’am, you’re drunk. And I really am not a host. I’ll be going now.”

Even now—after all the rationalizing—Takeru still couldn’t bring himself to cross that line.

People are funny like that.

You think you’re ready, and then the moment comes... and you flinch.

Aria watched him walk away, and her mind flashed to the husband who doted endlessly on Remi, while acting like she didn’t exist.

She’d tried everything—seduction, begging, even full-blown meltdowns—and still, he looked right through her like air.

The thought alone filled her with rage.

“You take one more step, and I swear I’ll make sure you can’t survive in Tokyo!”

She meant it.

She was the head of the Sanka family.

Unless you were one of the big five—Kashiwagi, Shinomiya, Shijō, Fujiwara, or the like—she didn’t fear anyone.

Takeru froze mid-step.

Deep breaths. Feeling dizzy is normal.

He tried to calm himself.

Seeing him pause, Aria smiled smugly.

But just as he started to turn back, a surprised female voice cut through the air.

“Kitahara Takeru?”

He froze.

Seriously? I ran into someone I know?

Is Tokyo really this small?

Or do I just know too many girls?

From the shadows emerged a girl chewing gum, beret perched on her head.

She had a snow-pale oval face, arched brows, and sharp short hair. Her eyes gleamed with a cocky wildness, exuding both rebellion and effortless swagger.

That’s right—swagger.

Takeru had seen all kinds of girls: elegant, poised, quiet, sweet.

But this one?

Cool. Unapologetically cool.

He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been born the wrong gender.

If she were a guy… he couldn’t even imagine how popular she’d be.

She was straight out of a manga. A gangster prince in human form.

Ryūtō Momo stopped in front of him, furrowing her brows slightly.

“You’re... Kitahara Takeru?”

She recognized him. Barely. His features were still discernible.

But... why did he look so washed up?

Are men’s prime years really this short?

---

T/N: WHY IS ARIA SO HOT???? HELLO STEP ON MEEEEEEEEEE

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!