Weren’t You Only Using Me As A Stand-in? [40]

The whole slab of A5 wagyu hit the grill, and as the fat sizzled and dripped onto the charcoal, the resulting sssss sounded almost like the devil whispering temptations.

Kitahara Takeru focused intently on the heat, flipping the meat at just the right intervals. Beside him, Eriri wore a sour expression, as if someone owed her a billion yen.

Before long, the mouthwatering aroma of grilled beef filled the air, making everyone around them stir with hunger.

Once the surface of the wagyu had turned golden and crisp, Kitahara took it off the grill and sprinkled only a pinch of black pepper and sea salt—no other seasonings.

Good beef didn’t need fancy tricks.

Of course, that was all down to personal taste.

“Here, try my cooking—ah~”

With practiced ease, Kitahara sliced the meat into strips and held a piece up to Eriri’s lips.

The rich scent wafted over, and Eriri’s delicate nose twitched slightly.

She hadn’t eaten much lunch, and she was hungry.

But just the thought of Kitahara joking and laughing with Ichinose Chizuru made her burn with fury.

And not just a little mad.

Furious.

It felt like discovering your loyal, upstanding, never-cross-the-line husband had cheated. Pain. Rage. Jealousy. A storm of negative emotions churned through her brain.

She was even angrier now than when she’d caught Aki Tomoya getting too close to Kasumigaoka Utaha.

“No matter how mad you are, you still need to eat, right?” Kitahara said softly, his tone gentle and composed. “How about we make a deal—you fill your stomach first, then go back to being angry?”

Between the scent of the food and his humbled demeanor, Eriri’s frosty expression softened ever so slightly. Her cherry-pink lips parted as she took a small bite.

Kitahara had grilled the meat to perfection.

With the first bite, her teeth broke through the crisp outer layer and sank into the tender, juicy center.

Flavor burst in her mouth—the crispy exterior and the succulent meat combining into something so indulgently rich, it left her craving more.

Seeing this, Kitahara let out a subtle breath of relief.

From what he knew of Eriri, the fact that she was eating meant her anger had already cooled... at least a little.

Just as he relaxed, Eriri spoke again—voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Thanks, kouhai~”

Kitahara: “...”

Hold it in.

Wordlessly, he dipped another piece in sauce, wrapped it in lettuce, and offered it to her.

A few girls at nearby tables started whispering among themselves.

Eriri tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled sweetly before taking the bite. “Thanks, kouhai.”

Just wait...

Kitahara mentally took note of every sarcastic “thanks” and planned to go home and beat the stuffing out of the Eriri plushie clinging to her dakimakura.

“He’s so gentle.”

“His patience is unreal. If I dared to treat my boyfriend like that in public, he’d walk out on the spot.”

“Lucky brat. What a good catch.”

More than a few women in the yakiniku restaurant threw jealous glances Eriri’s way. After all, Kitahara wasn’t just putting up with her—he wasn’t even mad.

If this were back home, nobody would think twice about it. Many girls believed men should take care of their girlfriends. That’s just how it was.

But—

This was the JP server.

Once the peak of gender imbalance, where “one woman, three wallets” was the norm.

Of course, those days were long gone.

After Japan’s economic bubble burst, dragging the stock market and housing market into the dirt, the status of women sank right along with it.

Modern Japanese men? Not the coaxing type.

Which is exactly why these women envied Eriri.

Eriri, though nearsighted, wasn’t deaf.

Quite the opposite. Her hearing was excellent.

She heard every word. Every envious whisper. Every admiring stare.

Her lips twitched so hard with smugness it was harder to suppress than an AK’s recoil.

But the moment Kitahara looked her way, she snapped right back into her sulky act, alternating between icy “thanks, kouhai!” and passive-aggressive “kouhai, you’re the best~” in a steady stream of sarcasm.

Across the restaurant, Ichinose Chizuru, stealing glances their way, was barely holding back laughter.

As luck would have it, Chizuru happened to be sitting diagonal from Kitahara, out of Eriri’s line of sight but perfectly within his.

Every time he fed Eriri a bite, he threw a fierce glare her way.

He was this close to losing it—and it was her fault.

He would remember this grudge.

Chizuru, for her part, just gave him a playful wink as if to say Who, me? I’m innocent~

“I’m full now. Thanks, kouhai~”

Finally, after feeding her till she was satisfied, Kitahara set down the chopsticks she’d been using and flagged down a server.

“Excuse me, could I get a new pair of chopsticks? Thanks.”

Eriri had just finished wiping her mouth with a towel. At those words, her body went stiff.

She turned and gave him a death glare so chilling it belonged in a horror film.

“Thanks,” Kitahara said politely, accepting the new set of chopsticks.

Just as he was about to start eating, he noticed Eriri’s terrifying expression, like she was about to skin him alive on the spot.

“Wh-What is it?”

He was completely lost.

What had he done this time?

Did she catch that little eye contact thing with Chizuru?

No way. He’d been super discreet.

There’s no way she could’ve seen it...

Eriri’s face morphed through several expressions before she finally forced a smile and said through clenched teeth, “Actually, I think I’m still a little hungry.”

“Oh.” Kitahara reached for the pair she had used, but her icy voice cut in:

“Try it. I dare you to use those chopsticks.”

His hand froze mid-air... then silently retracted.

He used the new pair and quietly fed her another bite.

This time, Eriri... bit deep.

The chopsticks, that is.

Her sharp little canines dug into the wood like she was trying to snap them in half with sheer rage.

“I’m full.”

Just one bite—and then she refused to eat more.

Instead, she just stared at Kitahara, eyes blazing.

Kitahara frowned deeply, staring at the chopsticks, wondering if he should ask for yet another pair.

But... he had just asked a minute ago.

He hated inconveniencing people. That wasn’t his style.

After a moment’s hesitation, he decided to let it go.

Then—under Eriri’s frosty gaze—she watched him take out a napkin and wipe down the chopsticks.

He was... disgusted.

He actually dared to be disgusted by her!

SLAM!

Eriri slammed her palm on the table, rattling the dishes and silverware.

“What now?” Kitahara looked up, genuinely confused.

What did I do wrong this time?

“You’re disgusted by me?” Eriri spat out the words like venom, her chest tight with frustration, jaw clenched so hard her molars nearly cracked.

“No! Of course not!”

Okay, maybe he did curse her out in his head sometimes.

But seriously—what employee hasn’t mentally ranted about their boss?

Still, disgusted? No way.

Sure, he complained. But who would actually hate their sugar mama?

“Then why the hell were you wiping the chopsticks?!”

---

T/N: ITS OVER im on her side on this one...

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!