Weren’t You Only Using Me As A Stand-in? [6]

After sending the message, Kasumigaoka Utaha entered a state of waiting.

Based on what she knew of Kitahara Takeru, she figured he’d reply within five minutes at most.

After all, he was so in love with her.

He remembered every one of her dietary restrictions, all her likes and dislikes—he even kept track of her menstrual cycle, something she herself sometimes forgot.

When it came to anything involving her, he always paid close attention.

If someone asked her who in this world loved her most, besides her parents, she would answer without hesitation: Watanabe Takeru.

No one loves Kasumigaoka Utaha more than Watanabe Takeru.

She believed that wholeheartedly.

Five minutes passed. Her phone remained silent.

Utaha didn’t mind.

She assumed he was still at work and hadn’t had the chance to reply right away.

She knew his family background wasn’t great—he was always working. Even if she wanted to see him, she had to schedule it two to three days in advance.

It annoyed her sometimes, but only a little.

Because whenever she reached out, he always made time.

She was convinced he’d cancel any and all shifts just to take a two-hour train ride to come see her.

If that isn’t love, then what is?

She gave him money too—partly because she didn’t want him to push himself so hard all the time.

Another five minutes passed. Still no reply.

Utaha frowned slightly. Is he that busy today?

Yet another five minutes. Her phone was completely quiet, and the message remained unread.

She even started wondering if her phone was broken. To check, she sent a side-profile photo of Takeru to a certain blonde, “accidentally” including part of her own hand in the shot.

Moments later, once she figured the photo had been seen, she quickly retracted it.

Right as she did, Eriri’s replies came flooding in.

It was like being spam-called to death—message after message in rapid succession.

Utaha glanced at them. Hmm. The language was quite... colorful.

Well, since her phone clearly worked, then why hadn’t Takeru replied?

Was it because he was using an iPhone?

Utaha knew all too well how annoying iPhone message delays could be—sometimes you’d exit the app, and only hours later would you get a pop-up saying “You have a new message… from 36 minutes ago.”

Should I buy him a new phone?

She found herself opening her shopping app without thinking.

Meanwhile, in Narita District, Chiba Prefecture—

Inside a luxurious hilltop mansion, Eriri Spencer Sawamura sat with messy hair and glasses, fuming.

After cussing out Kasumigaoka Utaha in her messages and getting no response, she was so pissed she called Aki Tomoya directly.

He picked up quickly. “Hello? What’s up, Eriri?”

She didn’t waste time: “Didn’t you say you were working today?”

“I am working!”

Still lying? Her voice sharpened. “Don’t give me that. You’re obviously out on a date with that old woman!”

“I asked you out today, so why did you go see her? Is that your decision? You chose her over me?”

Honestly, after makeup, Kitahara Takeru really did look almost identical to Aki Tomoya.

If that weren’t the case, Kasumigaoka Utaha never would’ve picked him as a stand-in in the first place.

With just a photo, even Aki himself might’ve wondered if he had a secret twin.

So of course Eriri mistook Takeru for him.

She wasn’t unaware of Takeru’s existence—same as Utaha. They each assumed the other didn’t know.

So once Takeru was ruled out, the only logical explanation was that Utaha’s date had to be Aki Tomoya.

Case closed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a little busy—I'll call you later.”

He hung up, confused.

What the hell is she going on about?

He really had been working all day at the store, raising funds for his game. He hadn’t gone anywhere.

No clue why Eriri was losing it on him.

Shaking his head, he got back to work.

Eriri, on the other hand, stared at her ended call, her rage boiling over. She slammed her phone to the floor and tore up the half-finished illustration in front of her.

Back in the dimly lit karaoke room—

With the music playing in the background, Watanabe Akari gripped the mic, her lips parting:

♪ I want to see you, I want to see you, trembling all over ♪
♪ The more I think of you, the more distant we seem ♪
♪ If we could just go back in time... ♪
♪ My heart and feelings—you don’t understand at all ♪
...

Her sweet voice, paired with solid technique and control, brought a special charm to her rendition of Kana Nishino’s “Aitakute Aitakute.”

Everyone played along, grabbing props—hand signs, maracas, bells, glow sticks, color torches—cheering like dedicated fans.

Even Kitahara Takeru, seeing the others so into it, casually picked up a glow stick and gave it a gentle wave.

He hadn’t even wanted to come to this mixer at first.

But now that he was here, he wasn’t the type to rudely bury his head in his phone the whole time.

That would’ve been disrespectful.

In an instant, the whole KTV room came alive with energy and excitement.

“Woooo!!!”
“Yeahhh!!!”

Ōtani Shōta and Tanaka Kōta led the charge with gorilla-like roars.

Takeru clapped politely.

When the song ended, the screen popped up with a high score: 89.

Watanabe Akari beamed and struck a playful peace-sign pose.

Whether Awei died on the spot or not, Takeru didn’t know—but Ōtani and Tanaka looked like they were about to drop dead from cuteness overload.

It was obvious—they both really liked Akari.

Of course, it wasn’t just her.

They liked any girl who was good-looking.

“You killed it, Akari!”

“Totally nailed it!”

“89? You sing better than most idols!”

Takamiya Saki, Ōhashi Natsumi, and Kitagawa Marin piled on the praise.

In Japan, many chain KTVs used scoring systems, but most of them only spat out a generic score after the song ended.

But in Japan? KTV scoring systems were serious business.

Their systems had a full spectrum—basic, intermediate, advanced, national ranking—and every song came with a detailed analysis, like a medical exam.

Pitch accuracy, expression, rhythm, control, vocal tremble, stamina—every aspect was evaluated.

And if that weren’t enough, it even gave personalized suggestions for improvement afterward!

At this level of detail, you’d think you were auditioning for a televised talent show.

Watanabe Akari clearly enjoyed the compliments. She smiled so brightly her eyes nearly disappeared—genuinely adorable.

At least, that’s what Takeru was thinking.

Until she looked in his direction—and instantly dropped the act, her face souring like he owed her money.

“Cute my ass.”

Takeru quietly revoked his earlier assessment.

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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!