Weren’t You Only Using Me As A Stand-in? [31]

Kotonoha's house was unlike any ordinary residence. For starters, there were two parking spots out front.

A secure delivery locker and a doorbell were installed at the entrance, linked to indoor surveillance.

Kotonoha opened the door. “Come in.”

“Sorry to intrude,” Kitahara Takeru replied politely as he stepped inside.

The entryway was spacious — at a glance, probably over twenty square meters.

As Kitahara took in the surroundings, he couldn’t help but ask, “Kotonoha-san, if you don’t mind me asking, how big is your house?”

Kotonoha closed the door, then walked over to a full-wall shoe cabinet on the left and pulled out a brand-new pair of indoor slippers. She bent down and placed them neatly at Kitahara’s feet.

“The land is around 270 square meters. The house itself is a little over 300.”

Kitahara had reached out to take them, but seeing her gesture, he retracted his hand and murmured a quiet, “Thanks.”

Then he asked, “Do you know how much it cost?”

Kotonoha thought for a moment. “A little over 200 million yen, I think. I don’t remember the exact number.”

She’d only heard her parents mention it in passing once and hadn’t paid much attention.

As he changed shoes, Kitahara silently calculated: If I didn’t have the system, how long would I need to work to afford this?

Let’s say everything went smoothly — good grades, good job, climbed the ranks at a major company — he’d probably earn over 10 million yen annually around age 35 to 40.

In Japan, 8 million yen a year was already considered a high income.

10 million yen put you in the executive bracket — a symbol of social standing.

And even then, you’d have to make it to section chief in one of the top 500 companies. The only other paths to that kind of salary were specialized fields: doctor, lawyer, certified public accountant...

How many years of work would it take...? Kitahara mused as he changed shoes.

And that was assuming everything went perfectly — which, in real life, was nearly impossible.

Better off working for the system instead.

Working for capitalists? No thanks. Kitahara would rather clock in for System-nii-san.

At least that boss handed out rewards — no fake promises, no carrot on a stick.

The only catch was that you never knew when System-nii would decide to go silent on you.

And you had to give up love, marriage, and spend your life floating between women as someone else’s stand-in. Not the most appealing gig.

Just as Kitahara finished putting on the slippers, a da-da-da! of footsteps echoed from the wood floor.

“Is that you, Kitahara-niisan?”

He looked up to see a little girl in a white princess dress running toward him.

She looked like a miniature version of Kotonoha — delicate oval face, dark sparkling eyes that gleamed under the lights. A small nose, tiny mouth, and dimples when she smiled. Absolutely adorable.

“She’s my little sister, Kokoro,” Kotonoha introduced.

“Nice to meet you.”

Kitahara offered a polite smile and greeted her.

He didn’t dislike kids — as long as they weren’t little terrors.

“.....”

Kokoro didn’t respond. She just tilted her head up and stared at him, wide-eyed.

The boy in front of her looked like he’d walked straight out of a shoujo manga — his features were striking, photogenic, pale-skinned, and tall. A truly rare, standout beauty.

Kotonoha had told her beforehand that Kitahara was handsome.

But she never imagined he’d be this handsome.

Way more handsome than her sister’s boyfriend.

“Kokoro!”

Seeing her sister blank out and just stare at their guest, Kotonoha frowned slightly, her voice a little firmer than usual.

Snapping out of it, Kokoro’s cheeks flushed bright red.

“H-Hello, Kitahara-niisan! I-I’m Katsura Kokoro.”

Just that one sentence took her several tries, stumbling over the words in nervous embarrassment. By the end, she ducked behind her sister to hide.

Kotonoha looked at her usually sharp, precocious little sister now fumbling to even finish a sentence — and couldn’t help but laugh quietly, lips curving into a smile.

“Come on in, Takeru.”

She led him down the hallway and into the living room.

The living space was designed in an I-shape. The open kitchen connected seamlessly to the dining and living areas. Everything was neatly laid out, creating a sense of spaciousness and brightness.

The kitchen was fully equipped — high-powered range hood, stovetop, oven, dishwasher, an oversized sink and a generous set of cabinets. Functional and efficient.

The large counters and sink allowed most prep work to happen in one area, saving room elsewhere.

Though the living room shared space with the dining area, the proportions were well-balanced, giving the whole space a clean, inviting look.

“Takeru, would you like barley tea or lemon tea?”

Kitahara was surveying the room’s layout. Nodding, he replied casually, “Lemon tea, please.”

“Here you go.”

Kotonoha took a chilled bottle from the fridge, poured him a full glass, and added a few ice cubes before setting it down in front of him.

“Thanks.”

Kitahara took a sip and looked down into the glass. “Did you make this yourself?”

“I did,” she answered, slightly surprised.

She hadn’t expected him to notice.

“No wonder it’s not as sweet.”

Most store-bought lemon teas used artificial sweeteners and leaned on the syrupy side. Hers was far more subtle.

“Mind sharing the secret recipe? I’d like to try making it myself.”

Kitahara thought Eriri might like it.

If he made it for her next time, and then accidentally let it slip that he learned it from another girl, she might get flustered and start dropping gold coins again.

And if she didn’t like it? Well, there was still Kasumigaoka Utaha, Hiratsuka Shizuka, Shijō Maki, Nakano Yotsuba… someone was bound to appreciate it.

I really am a genius.

“If you ever want some, just tell me. I’ll make it for you,” Kotonoha said warmly, pulling out a box of what were clearly expensive pastries and setting them on the table.

“Ah— that’s not really appropriate, is it?”

Asking someone else’s girlfriend to make lemon tea for him… something about it just felt off.

Especially since he wasn’t making it for himself — it was meant for another woman.

Accepting tea made by Kotonoha and giving it to someone else...

Didn’t the last guy who did something like that go by the name Chen Hansheng?

“I think it’s totally appropriate!” Kokoro chimed in enthusiastically.

“Kitahara-niisan saved my sister. If not for him, she would’ve been locked in that classroom all night.”

She was all for anything that got Kitahara to agree — it meant more chances to see this gorgeous onii-san.

Kotonoha nodded in agreement.

“She’s right, Takeru. At least give me the chance to thank you.”

If you really want to thank me, stop blocking my damn quest, Kitahara grumbled silently.

---

T/N: i like how there is no racism! lmao its out there for sure but i do like it when he thinks about chinese stuff, just as like u would when ur from a diff country and living in a new country like oh in my old counmtry it was like this, oh i knew a chinese celebrity back then or omsehitnitnegrieghopdsJ

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!