Weren’t You Only Using Me As A Stand-in? [69]

Plain dial, Arabic numerals, leaf-shaped hands, black crocodile leather strap, butterfly clasp—
Inside the box lay a watch that was unmistakably an IWC Portugieser Chronograph.

When people talk about luxury watches, most first think of Patek Philippe, Vacheron Constantin, or Rolex.

But truth be told, IWC is just as much a luxury brand.

“Onee-san… this is…?”

Only Kitahara Takeru himself knew just how hard it was to tear his gaze away from that watch.

He really, really liked it—but he wasn’t sure if it was a gift for him or someone else.

“You like it?” Hiratsuka Shizuka tilted her head to look at him.

“For… for me?”

Takeru pointed at himself, still a little in disbelief.

“Who else?” she said with a soft laugh—though her face visibly dimmed a moment later.

“Besides you, I don’t have any other men to give gifts to… hehe…”

How pitiful.

Takeru looked at her with genuine sympathy.

To be honest, Hiratsuka Shizuka was stunning by any standard.

Her long hair was as lustrous as ever, and her pale, porcelain skin looked smooth and radiant.
Her lips were full and rosy, and when she smiled, they naturally curled up with calm confidence. Her jawline was sharp, lending her a striking beauty.

Her “Fuji peaks” and tiny waist created a stunning contrast.

Despite her impressive proportions, her waist was still that slim.

Even when hidden by tight-fitting pants, her long legs were hard to miss.
Tonight, paired with sheer black stockings, her legs looked even smoother and more defined.
It wasn’t a stretch to say they were perfect—she could have easily modeled just her legs professionally.

Unlike the younger girls Takeru usually dealt with, Shizuka felt like a perfectly ripened peach—exuding maturity and grace.

She was exactly the kind of aloof older woman a teenage boy would fantasize about.

…That is, until she opened her mouth.

Speak, and she was northeast China’s granary.
Shut up, and she was Jiangnan’s watery poetry.

No idea why, but it always seemed like—
The better someone looked, the worse their voice.
And people with amazing voices? Usually didn’t look that great.

Funny how many chubby guys had great voices, though.

And if you happen to have both a rough voice and a rough face… well, that’s just God slamming the door and welding the window shut.

Shizuka was, undeniably, beautiful—and men did try to flirt with her.

But most of them only wanted one thing.

Even the few who started out with good intentions usually left the moment they saw the real her.

God had given her Rolls-Royce skin—
But paired it with a tractor engine.

“It’s okay, onee-san. You still have money!” Takeru tried to comfort her, genuinely moved by how pitiful she looked.

Sure, she hadn’t found someone who truly loved her.

But she was loaded.

The only kind of suffering Shizuka had probably tasted was romantic disappointment.

Unlike him—where academics, love, and life itself all felt like a buffet of bitterness force-fed down his throat.

“What’s the point of having money if you don’t have a man?” Shizuka sighed, collapsing onto the steering wheel like a dejected cat.

Takeru was momentarily stunned.

No meaning??? (´Д｀)

He couldn’t even fathom how blissfully happy he’d be if he were her age, wearing a Vacheron Constantin, commuting in a car worth almost ten million yen.

“So… where are we going tonight?”

He decided to change the topic.
If this went on any longer, he might start choking on his own lemon-flavored envy.

Shizuka hesitated. “There’s… a gathering tonight. Sorry to bother you again, but can you come with me?”

Every time she needed to dodge awkward social setups, she called on Takeru.

And every time, she felt a bit guilty.

But what choice did she have?
She couldn’t find anyone else to convincingly play her boyfriend.

She’d thought about hiring someone—but those guys either looked plain awful, or…

Okay, some were attractive.

But after being spoiled by Tokyo’s certified charm monster—Kitahara Takeru—her standards had gone way up.

Everyone else just seemed off by comparison.

Takeru smiled as always. “What kind of gathering?”

This wouldn’t be his first time attending one of Shizuka’s social obligations.

Girls’ night outs, class reunions, weddings of old high school friends—Shizuka brought him along to all of them.

Even if she wasn’t formally invited, she’d go.

Not for networking.
Just to flex.

Because back in the day, all those women used to snicker behind her back about how she had no man.

Now? Shizuka was determined to shove that ridicule right back down their throats.

“It’s just a regular high school reunion, but—” Shizuka cut off mid-sentence.

A full minute passed before she continued, her voice lower now:

“My ex’s gonna be there.”

Takeru’s expression shifted.

“You mean the guy who tried to move into your apartment after a few days of dating, pretended he wanted to marry you, secretly slept with your nemesis behind your back, and even stole your furniture after the breakup?”

“…Yeah. That guy.”

Shizuka nodded repeatedly, eyes glistening with the threat of tears.

This one’s gonna be good.

Substitute boyfriend vs. deadbeat ex.
Just imagining it got Takeru fired up.

Back when he first started being hired as a stand-in, he figured this day might come.

He’d even trained for it—lurking in internet hellzones like Tieba, Weibo, and the infamous Zu’an gaming servers.

He’d survived the Holy Trinity of online flame wars. Now?

He was unstoppable.

If it weren’t for censorship rules, he could verbally nuke someone’s entire family tree in under ten seconds—no repeats, no breaks.

“He… might try to come at you,” Shizuka said softly, calming herself.

“If you’re not comfortable, we don’t have to go.”

The invitation had come last-minute—this hadn’t even been part of her plan.

“Come at me?” Takeru raised a brow, amused.

If that guy dared throw shade at him, Takeru would show him what it meant to start rapping with a single finger, dropping insults like petals, turning the air toxic with every word.

He took Shizuka’s hands in his and said, earnestly, “Onee-san, don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

Of all the women involved in his “missions,” Shizuka was easily the kindest.

Every time they met, she brought him gifts.

Clothes, watches—she spoiled him.

She always paid when they went out.

Most importantly—he actually enjoyed spending time with her.

She wasn’t like the high school girls—moody, immature, and always playing games.

She was an adult.

Sure, a slightly dramatic adult—but stable, reliable, no tantrums or emotional outbursts.

If it weren’t for their age gap, he might’ve seriously considered dating her for real.

“Takeru… thank you.”

Shizuka pulled him into a hug, eyes moist with emotion.

This kid was still so kind.

Always thinking about her.

If he weren’t still so young, Shizuka honestly would’ve dragged him home to meet her parents on the spot.

---

T/N: im shizuka...

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!