Weren’t You Only Using Me As A Stand-in? [37]

Kitahara Takeru had known Eriri for a while now.

He’d learned that with Eriri, you had to interpret everything in reverse.

When she said no, she meant yes.

When she denied something, she was actually admitting it.

She might be soft all over, but her mouth had to stay sharp.

"You!"

Not only did Kitahara not let go of Eriri’s hand, he tightened his grip.

"What? Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking of accepting his confession." Kitahara narrowed his eyes, his tone turning sharp.

At this moment, he looked every bit the domineering CEO straight out of a drama.

Kitahara Takeru was a consummate stand-in actor. He adjusted his performance depending on what the client wanted.

Even when playing the same “character,” his portrayal would differ from one client to another.

Take Kasumigaoka Utaha, for example. Her version of “Aki Tomoya” was all about realism.

She demanded authenticity—everything from clothes to behavior had to be a perfect copy. Like a perfectionist director, even the slightest deviation would earn him a cold glare and the line, “Aki wouldn’t act like that.”

By contrast, the “Aki Tomoya” that Eriri wanted was completely different.

She needed someone who could read between the lines, someone who’d always, always choose her—no matter the time, place, or temptation.

In other words, Eriri’s “Aki Tomoya” was pure fantasy.

So even if Kitahara said things Aki would never say, Eriri didn’t mind.

Because the Aki she imagined didn’t exist in reality.

“Don’t slander me—I turned him down right from the start, okay?” Eriri gave a token struggle, but when she couldn’t pull away, she simply turned her face to the side.

“He’s the one who wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

At that, Kitahara took a step forward, placing himself between her and the upperclassman, effectively cutting the guy off.

“Senpai, could I trouble you to stop pestering my Eriri?”

He put extra weight on those three words—my Eriri.

Eriri’s pale cheeks flushed a faint pink. She turned her head away and mumbled, “I told you, I’m not yours. Why can’t you ever understand plain Japanese?”

Kitahara ignored her. He stared the upperclassman down—a guy whose name he didn’t know and had no interest in knowing.

“Or what, Senpai? You just really like going after other people’s girlfriends?”

Despite resembling Aki Tomoya in appearance, there was an unmistakable pressure in Kitahara’s voice that Aki never had.

That sort of presence wasn’t something a nerd like Aki could ever muster.

Under his stare, the upperclassman dropped his gaze first. Shoulders slumped, he turned and left without a word.

Eriri didn’t even glance his way. Casually, she packed up her art supplies and handed both her schoolbag and art case to Kitahara.

“What am I, your mule?” Kitahara grumbled as he took them.

Eriri put her hands on her hips. “Letting you carry my bags is an honor. Do you know how many guys would kill for the chance? And you dare complain?”

“What, am I supposed to thank you?”

Kitahara rolled his eyes so hard he looked like an irritated cat.

“You better be properly grateful.” Her golden ponytail swayed with momentum, brushing lightly across Kitahara’s face, leaving behind a faint, familiar scent that was uniquely hers.

The two of them bickered their way out of the art room. Eriri locked the door behind them.

All this time, their hands remained clasped.

At some point—neither of them remembered when—after a date where they’d held hands, Kitahara just… didn’t let go.

Not because he was being handsy or taking advantage—it was because he realized Eriri seemed to really like being held like this.

He found out by accident.

One time it was hot, their palms were sweaty, and he let go. Just for a second.

And Eriri stopped walking.

Given how well Kitahara understood his benefactor, he knew then: she was upset.

Since that day, they often held hands on their dates. The most intimate thing they ever did was this. Anything more would’ve been inappropriate.

“So, where are we headed today?”

They strolled out of the campus like a real couple.

Whenever they ran into a lingering student—someone leaving late after club activities—they would instinctively let go and create a bit of distance. Then, the moment they were alone again, their hands found each other once more.

Eriri didn’t want to cause any trouble for Aki Tomoya.

And Kitahara, understanding that, played along.

He didn’t mind. This was his job, after all.

“I want to go to Akihabara. I heard Seals Studio just released Amanatsu+. I’m thinking of checking it out.”

Kitahara froze.

“Akihabara?”

Akihabara was in Chiyoda, Tokyo.

It was where Katsura Kotonoha lived.

He had literally eaten lunch there earlier, traveled to Chiba for this date, and now he was heading back again?

What was he, a commuter rail ghost?

“Yeah. What’s the problem?” Eriri looked at him, confused.

“Then why didn’t you just suggest meeting there in the first place? You do know I go to school in Tokyo, right?” Just thinking about going back again, walking around with her, then escorting her all the way back here, only to ride the train back to Tokyo that night—Kitahara’s scalp tingled.

“What, so you want me to take the train to Tokyo all by myself?” Eriri narrowed her eyes.

Kitahara recognized the signs—she was getting annoyed.

He softened his tone. “No, I mean, Eriri, look—I’m just saying, the round trip wears me out too, y’know? Maybe… consider giving me a little break?”

“If our next date’s in Tokyo, could we just meet there directly?”

Eriri said nothing. She stared at him in complete silence.

Kitahara looked back at her pleadingly.

After a moment, her delicate, doll-like face broke into a smile.

That smile was like a summer breeze—cool, gentle, impossible to resist.

Eriri was cute. Especially when she smiled.

But the second Kitahara saw that smile, sweat began to bead on his forehead.

Because whenever Eriri smiled like that, it usually meant—

“Sure. Since you hate the trouble so much, how about we just never meet again? That way, you won’t be inconvenienced at all~”

As expected, the moment she finished, Eriri yanked her hand away and stormed off toward the station.

“Wait—Eriri, I was wrong!”

Kitahara hurried after her, reaching out to grab her hand.

“Don’t touch me.”

The instant his fingers brushed her skin, she slapped his hand away.

So hard that he couldn’t hold on.

Not only that, her little legs were now moving at high speed—Kitahara had to jog just to keep up.

Fun fact: when a girlfriend gets mad, her stats increase by ridiculous margins—Attack Power +50%, Movement Speed +30%, Evasion +80%, Crit Rate 100%.

Once she entered that state, Eriri was harder to wrangle than a New Year’s pig on slaughter day.

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T/N: heh im not like that trust

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!