In the midsummer month of June, cicadas sang in unison outdoors.
The asphalt road shimmered under the rising heat.
In the afternoon, the streets were filled with the sound of cicadas and passing vehicles, with hardly any pedestrians.
Unless it was a matter of life and death, no one would willingly step outside during the hottest hours of the day.
"Water!"
On the air-conditioned bus, a black-haired girl with hair cascading past her shoulders was holding a copy of 'The Dancing Girl of Izu'.
She lifted her head, stretching her neck, which had grown stiff from reading, and called out to the boy beside her, who had short bobbed hair and wore large round glasses.
Kitahara Takashi, who had nearly dozed off, was startled awake by the girl's voice. He pinched the flesh on his thigh hard, using the pain to drive away his drowsiness.
After regaining some clarity, he quickly retrieved a thermos from his shoulder bag and opened it, flashing a bright smile.
"Utaha-senpai, here."
Kasumigaoka Utaha stared at the boy before her, whose face bore an uncanny resemblance to Tomoya Aki's.
His innocent, cheerful expression momentarily dazed her.
But soon, her expression turned cold.
"Aki wouldn't smile like that."
Takashi lowered his gaze submissively.
"Sorry, I won't do it again."
Utaha didn't look at him any further, afraid that if she continued to stare at that eerily familiar face, she might soften her resolve.
She took the thermos he handed her and absentmindedly took a sip, only to immediately frown.
Takashi, who had been closely observing her expression, quickly explained,
"I noticed you've been holding your stomach a lot lately. I thought maybe… it was that time of the month, so I made some brown sugar water for you."
Utaha glanced down at the dark liquid inside the thermos. Her face remained impassive, but her emotions were complicated.
She had met Kitahara Takashi on the same day she confessed to Tomoya Aki—and got rejected.
That day, it had been snowing heavily.
It was the first time in her life she had ever taken the initiative to confess to a guy, and she was turned down.
By the time she was heading home, she had been so dazed that she nearly stepped into traffic without checking the lights.
It was then that Takashi had reached out and pulled her back, saving her from an accident.
To be honest, when she saw him for the first time, she had almost mistaken him for Tomoya Aki.
The same hairstyle. The same glasses. Even their voices were eerily similar.
Until he shoved a flyer into her hands.
"Utaha-senpai, have you heard about substitute literature?"
Kasumigaoka Utaha: "…"
…
With a hiss, the bus doors opened, allowing a wave of heat to rush in, interrupting her recollection of their first meeting.
She stood up and got off the bus.
Takashi followed closely behind, carrying shopping bags in both hands.
As they stepped onto the sidewalk, he deliberately shifted all the bags into his left hand, reached into his bag, and pulled out a sun umbrella, holding it up for her.
He looked every bit the devoted boyfriend, embodying the virtues of a considerate and dutiful partner.
Utaha lifted her gaze, her wine-red eyes locking onto his.
"Kitahara, you do realize I like someone else, right?"
At first, she hadn't thought much of their so-called "coincidental" meeting.
But the more she dwelled on it, the more it felt… suspicious.
Appearing right when she was at her lowest, his face bearing an uncanny resemblance to Tomoya Aki, even dressing similarly—wasn't it all too much of a coincidence?
Would something so perfectly aligned really happen by chance?
Utaha suspected that Takashi must have been secretly admiring her from the shadows.
That he had been watching her for a long time, studying Tomoya Aki's dressing style and mannerisms, imitating his speech, all so he could appear in front of her at the right moment.
The "rental boyfriend" thing? Probably just an excuse to get close to her, a tactic to attract her attention.
Otherwise, why would he know her so well?
He even knew when she was on her period.
He must like me. Utaha thought with certainty.
She was confident in her own looks, after all.
Didn't people call her the evergreen goddess of Toyogasaki?
Among all the heroines on Toyogasaki, she alone claimed nearly half the spotlight.
"You're just a substitute, do you understand?"
When she had first sought him out, it had purely been because she wanted to look at that face—a face that overlapped so perfectly with Tomoya Aki's.
But gradually, she had come to enjoy his attentiveness, the way he handled everything with such care, the way he spoke to her with such warmth.
He knew all of her preferences.
Whenever they went out, he would plan everything in advance.
Most importantly, from the very beginning, his eyes had never strayed elsewhere.
He saw no one but her.
It was as if, in this world, she was the one Tomoya Aki had chosen without hesitation.
As if, on that day, she had never been rejected.
She enjoyed his devotion, but she also knew she only saw him as a substitute.
To prevent any misunderstandings, Utaha decided it was best to set things straight early on.
"Senpai, I know I'm just a substitute. You don't need to remind me."
Takashi lowered his head slightly.
His shoulders trembled just the tiniest bit, and his voice, deep and strained, sounded as if it had been squeezed from his throat.
Seeing him like that, Utaha felt that maybe her words had been too harsh. Her red lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but in the end, she said nothing.
Instead, she took out her phone and transferred him 100,000 yen.
She wasn't good at comforting people.
Nor could she bring herself to apologize.
So she simply paid him instead.
Hearing the notification of the deposit, Takashi, still looking down, curled his lips into a faint smirk.
But when he lifted his head again, the corners of his eyes were slightly red.
"Senpai, let me walk you home."
Utaha nodded lightly.
"Mm."
For the rest of the walk, neither of them spoke.
Takashi, who was usually chatty around her, was now utterly silent.
Utaha wasn't quite used to it.
But she understood.
If she were in his shoes, being rejected by someone she liked, she wouldn't be in a great mood either.
I hope he gets over it soon.
She sneaked a glance at Takashi, thinking to herself.
When they reached her home, Takashi handed over the shopping bags.
"Thanks."
Utaha accepted the bags, then turned to leave when—
"Senpai!"
"Hm?"
She turned her head.
The summer breeze lifted her long, willow-like hair, making it sway in the wind.
"No matter if you need me or not, as long as you do, I'll always be here."
Takashi's face was stubborn, like a loyal dog who had been explicitly rejected by his goddess but refused to give up.
Hearing this, Utaha's gaze turned complicated.
After a long pause, she turned and left, leaving behind only two words:
"Suit yourself."
Watching her beautiful silhouette disappear into the house, Kitahara Takashi's expression melted away like thawing snow, replaced by a look of utter indifference.
[Order completed. Calculating rewards.]
[Player has received: 5000 points.]
[Number of dates: Kasumigaoka Utaha · 9 times]
The moment the system notification rang, Takashi turned and left without hesitation.
He walked all the way to a 24-hour convenience store near Utaha's house and stepped inside.
As soon as he entered, the young female cashier at the counter greeted him with a smile.
"Welcome."
"Can I use the restroom?"
It was only after coming to Japan that Takashi realized convenience stores actually had restrooms.
"Of course! Just go straight to the end and turn the corner."
"Thanks."
After thanking her politely, Takashi headed straight for the restroom.
Once inside, he removed his glasses and yanked off the wig and mesh cap he was wearing, revealing his silver-white hair.
Using cleansing oil, he wiped away the makeup on his face.
When he looked up again, the boy in the mirror had sharp features—thin lips, a straight nose, deep-set eyes, and a sharp jawline that gave him a slightly mixed-race appearance.
A black stud earring adorned his left ear.
His skin was so pale under the fluorescent light that it seemed even whiter than someone who had been dead for a month.
Unlike the mild and gentle charm of his disguised appearance as Tomoya Aki, Takashi's real face carried a bold, untamed handsomeness—intense and wild, like a delinquent.
Staring at his own naturally intimidating face in the mirror, Takashi let out a long sigh.
"Ah—"
It had been nearly six months since he had inexplicably transmigrated into this world, yet it still didn't feel real to him.
Sometimes, he even wondered if everything he was experiencing was just his brain generating a long, drawn-out dream in the final moments before death, triggered by some electric impulse in his prefrontal cortex.
Otherwise, how else could he explain this "system" that had suddenly appeared?
Speaking of which, he didn't even remember how he had died.
He didn't smoke, didn't drink, had no interest in anime, never played Genshin, and always went to bed before 11 PM.
He never got into conflicts with people, and his few hobbies were things like collecting beads, fishing, and photography—pastimes more suited to middle-aged men.
Shouldn't transmigrators be the type who have dead parents, no friends in reality, spend all day calling fictional characters their "wives," talk inappropriately online, give relationship advice despite never holding a girl's hand, and blush when making eye contact with women?
Bzzzz—Bzzzz—
As Takashi pondered his situation, his phone suddenly began vibrating wildly in his pocket.
Taking it out, he glanced at the caller ID and instinctively held the phone at a distance before answering.
"Takashi! Where are you? Didn't you promise to come to the mixer today? You're not ditching us again, are you?! You bastard, if you ghost us one more time, we're done being friends!!!"
Before Takashi could even get a word in, the voice on the other end rattled off like a machine gun—rapid, urgent, and ridiculously loud.
He didn't even need to put the call on speaker to hear it clearly.
Patiently waiting for the other person to finish, Takashi then spoke at an unhurried pace.
"I just finished work. I'm heading over now. I'll be there for sure this time."
"…I'll hold you to that!"
After the call ended, Takashi carefully packed away his wig, makeup remover, and glasses before slinging his bag over his shoulder and exiting the restroom.
On his way out, he casually grabbed a pack of gum.
As he approached the counter, the female cashier, who had been relaxed before, instinctively straightened her posture.
Beep!
She scanned the gum without looking away, then flashed him an unbelievably sweet smile.
"That'll be 498 yen."
Takashi handed over a 500-yen coin.
Receiving 2 yen in change, he gave a polite nod before turning to leave.
"Thank you."
The cashier blinked in confusion.
Thank you?
Does he know me?
As Takashi boarded the JR Keiyo Line back to Tokyo, he opened his system interface.
The options for [Stats] and [Shop] were highlighted.
Takashi focused his thoughts on [Stats], and the panel instantly appeared before him.
Character: [Kitahara Takashi]
Age: [16]
Intelligence: [7]
Charm: [9]
Stamina: [5]
Items: [None]
Skills: [Master-level Makeup]
Passive: [Neat Handwriting]
Title: [None]
Points: [95,000]
Number of Dates: [Kasumigaoka Utaha · 9, Eriri Spencer Sawamura · 7, Hiratsuka Shizuka · 3]
Money: [1,231,142 yen]
Considering that the average human had a stat of 5, Kitahara figured he wasn't doing too badly as a person.
After checking his stats, he navigated to the [Shop].
[Money: 100 yen / 1 point]
[Intelligence: 1 point / 100,000 points]
[Charm: 1 point / 100,000 points]
[Stamina: 1 point / 100,000 points]
Skills:
[Beginner Photo Editing — 100 points][Proficient Cooking — 1,000 points][Expert Writing — 10,000 points][Master Fishing — 100,000 points][God-tier: Battle Meditation — 1,000,000 points]
Passive:
[Swordsmanship Proficiency — 10,000 points]
Items:
[Refined Villain Glasses — 1,000 points][Shuchiin Academy Uniform — 100 points][Soubu High School Uniform — 100 points]
(Refresh Timer: 151 hours, 46 minutes, 53 seconds)
The stat upgrades and master-level skills were tempting.
But god-tier skills? That was nothing more than a pipe dream.
"If only I had more 'tools' like Utaha," Kitahara thought sincerely.
He genuinely liked Kasumigaoka Utaha.
A girl who assumed he was madly in love with her just because he showed a hint of sadness and would immediately send him money whenever she thought she had hurt him.
How ridiculous.
As if he would ever get so worked up over a girl.
He wasn't some lovesick side character in a novel.
If he was going to be anything, he would be the protagonist.
He, Kitahara Takashi, would never be anyone's substitute.
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Check out the other translations too: [Mash-Up: Anything For Money]
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