Weren’t You Only Using Me As A Stand-in? [19]

“She fell asleep.”

Yozakura Hitomi yawned, one delicate hand lazily covering her soft pink lips. She looked like she’d just woken up from a nap.

“Hey, don’t just fall asleep at someone else’s place,” Kitahara Takeru said, exasperated as he looked at the effortlessly pretty girl in front of him.

“I wasn’t sleeping at someone else’s place. I was sleeping at home.”

Leaning casually against the doorframe, Yozakura’s silver hair swayed gently behind her, tied into a playful ponytail.

Her dainty, heart-shaped face gave off a clean, fresh vibe — she was stunning.

“I rent this place, remember?” Takeru muttered, not hiding his irritation.

Yozakura deflected with a smile. “Kitahara-kun, don’t you think the rent’s a little too low?”

Takeru, never too proud to fold when the situation called for it, instantly caved: “I-I was just trying not to see anything I shouldn’t…”

Damn it. If she weren’t my landlady… and didn’t let me keep a dog… I’d definitely show her who's boss.

Yozakura laughed at his obvious defeat.

When she smiled, two dimples appeared on her cheeks — irresistibly charming.

Takeru had gotten lost in that smile the first time he met her.

He’d grown used to it now.

“Here — a thank-you gift.”

He handed her the little cake he’d brought back from the dessert shop.

He’d bought it for her from the start.

With his rising number of dates lately, he hadn’t had time to walk Tiny himself.

So Yozakura had been the one handling it — and preventing the dog from tearing the house apart.

He liked ice cream, but he didn’t care for sweets.

Yozakura didn’t hesitate. She took the cake and dug in, speaking through a mouthful, “You’ve been coming back late lately.”

“Gotta make a living, you know?”

Takeru started changing out of his shoes at the entryway.

“Not everyone can be like you — carefree and problem-free before even hitting twenty.”

Here I am, a reincarnated grown man, still grinding to save up for a house. Meanwhile, she already owns one and lives off rent.

Yes, one whole house.

Takeru was renting the entire building — and it was hers.

The heavens really are fair, he thought dryly.

Gave her beauty… and removed her need to worry about money.

“Is earning money really that hard? Just save up a hundred million yen and live off the interest in Europe or something,” Yozakura said, as if that were the most normal thing in the world.

“Great idea. So tell me — where do I get a hundred million yen?”

Takeru’s tone didn’t even ripple.

He didn’t even have the energy to be sarcastic.

“A person shouldn’t be that poor,” Yozakura said, spoon still in her mouth, tilting her head.

So cute.

So cute he wanted to punch her.

“Sorry, I’m the kind of peasant who can’t just whip out a hundred million yen.” Takeru rolled his eyes and tossed his bag aside, then flopped down on the sofa.

Tiny gave him a glance before returning his gaze to the TV.

Takeru looked too — it was Crayon Shin-chan.

...Can he even understand it?

“You’ve got a decent face. Why not become a host? I hear hosts make bank,” Yozakura said, plopping down beside him.

Takeru stroked Tiny’s head. “I’m basically already a host.”

At this point, what he was doing wasn’t far off from a host club anyway.

Only difference?

He wasn’t stringing anyone along, and the girls didn’t really love him.

Not like modern hosts, who’d do anything for performance.

Rumor had it some girls in Japan went as far as doing AV work or compensated dating just to support their favorite hosts.

Terrifying.

“Really?” Yozakura’s eyes sparkled with sudden interest.

She scooted closer, her elegant face inches from his. “Which club? I’ll come by, buy you a champagne tower — help boost your numbers.”

Takeru poked her forehead gently. “It was a joke. Why’re you getting so into it?”

Yozakura, slightly deflated, pouted and focused back on her cake.

[Mission complete. Calculating rewards...]
[You have received: 5,000 points.]
[Date count: Shijō Maki · One time]

The system notification chimed in his ears as Takeru sat with Tiny watching TV.

Finally — the point total hit 100,000.

Time to spend some points. Let’s go.

System, show me your true potential.

He was about to buy a +1 Intelligence upgrade when he remembered — Yozakura was still there.

What if he passed out suddenly?

That’s how it always went in the novels.

He thought it over, then decided to wait until she left.

No rush.

Ten minutes...

Fifteen minutes...

Half an hour...

Takeru turned his head.

She was lounging like she lived here — legs crossed, heel lazily dangling a slipper that somehow never fell off.

It was then that he noticed — Yozakura’s feet were, objectively, beautiful.

Pale, smooth legs. Long, slender. Toes curled inward just slightly in elegant symmetry — the kind of neatness that spoke to discipline and character.

Her soles were perfectly shaped — neither too broad nor too thin — like white plum blossoms scattered across snow.

Leg men would absolutely lose it over these.

He remembered something a friend once said: “A woman’s body is nature’s greatest masterpiece — and the crown jewel… is the foot.”

Back then, Takeru had scoffed. What’s so great about feet?

Now… he was starting to get it.

He was still spacing out when suddenly — he felt something press against his face.

A foot.

Expressionless, Takeru removed her foot from his cheek. “What are you doing?”

Yozakura blinked. “You were staring so hard, I thought you were into feet.”

“I was zoning out. And what part of me screams ‘foot freak’ to you?”

“You play Arknights.”

Takeru: “Touch fucking grass.”

So that’s the logic now?

Playing Arknights = foot fetishist?

Wait… that might not be completely wrong.

Hearing him curse, Yozakura doubled over with laughter, clutching her stomach. “Ahaha!”

“Alright, you’re done with your cake. Get out.”

Takeru finally started kicking her out.

“Fine, fine.”

Yozakura stood, stretched, back arched, arms raised high — like a graceful cat.

Her white nightdress hugged every curve.

Seeing Takeru unmoved, still lounging on the couch with no intention of seeing her out, she pouted. “It’s so late, and you’re just gonna let me walk back alone? Not even gonna escort me?”

“You literally live next door. You need an escort for that?”

“What if something happens to me on the way?”

Yozakura grabbed Takeru’s wrist and dragged him up off the sofa.

She yanked him all the way to her door.

Distance: five meters, tops.

“I’m home. Thanks, Kitahara,” she said with a cheerful grin.

“Heh.” Takeru gave a dry, perfunctory smile, turned, and started walking off.

“Wait.”

Yozakura stopped him.

“What now?” he sighed, already annoyed.

“This is for you — to thank you for the cake.” She pulled something from her pocket and shoved it into his hand.

“No need. It was just—”

He stopped mid-sentence.

“Take it,” she said with a wink.

Then bam! — she slammed the door shut.

Takeru looked down at what was in his hand.

Soft. Silky.

Clearly used.

A white stocking.

He stared at it in silence.

If not for the noise complaints, he would’ve screamed from the bottom of his lungs:

“I SWEAR I’M NOT INTO FEET!”

---

T/N: kumaaa alter

anyways heres her img

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!