Didn’t You Say I Was Just a Stand-In?

Japanese high schoolers really know how to live life to the fullest, Kitahara Takashi thought as he watched Ohtani Shota and Tanaka Kotaro mingling effortlessly with the girls. Their carefree lives were a far cry from the grueling routines of high schoolers back in his home country, where endless exams, cram schools, and the ever-looming countdown to college entrance exams dominated every waking moment.

"Kitahara-kun, aren't you going to sing?" Kitagawa Marin asked, sidling up to him after finishing her song.

Kitahara shook his head with a smile. "I'm not much of a singer."

That wasn't entirely true. Kitahara could sing, and he was decent at it. In his past life, he'd been a social media influencer—a mix of a viral singer, makeup artist, and livestreamer. Though he hadn't studied anything related to the internet in college, as everyone knows, your major rarely has anything to do with your eventual career.

While he wouldn't call himself a pro, he was definitely better than the average person. The catch? He only knew Chinese songs, not Japanese ones. Japanese dramas had never been as popular as Korean dramas back home, and their movies didn't hold a candle to Hollywood's. The only real cultural export Japan could boast of was anime, which Kitahara didn't watch. The only Japanese singer he knew was Kenshi Yonezu, and even then, he often mixed up his name, calling him "Tianjin Master" by mistake.

Yonezu's Loser had been a massive hit, breaking into mainstream popularity. For a while, it seemed like everyone around Kitahara was listening to it, which was how he'd first heard of the artist.

"Oh, really?" Marin twirled a strand of her coral-dyed hair around her finger, resting her chin on her hand. "You have such a nice voice when you talk. I thought you'd be a great singer."

"Where did you get that idea? Just because someone has a nice voice doesn't mean they can sing," Kitahara replied, amused.

He remembered a girl he'd met in an online game. Her voice was mesmerizing—she could switch between sultry, cute, and youthful tones effortlessly, tailoring her voice to whatever the situation demanded. But when she sang? Well, let's just say it was… unique. If the first line didn't make you cringe, the rest certainly would. Her singing sounded like Zhang Fei and Li Kui riding a square-wheeled bicycle through the desert together. It was an experience.

As Kitahara spoke, he realized his mouth was getting dry. He pulled down his mask and reached for the glass of orange juice nearby.

For the first time, Marin got a clear look at his face.

His nose was straight and well-defined, forming a graceful curve from his forehead to the tip, like an elegant mountain peak that complemented his deep, expressive eyes. His lips were finely shaped, with a natural, inviting curve that seemed to radiate warmth when he smiled. Under the soft, warm glow of the room's lighting, his features looked almost ethereal.

He's really good-looking, Marin thought, surprising herself. She wasn't usually one to care much about appearances, but Kitahara's charm was undeniable. He was the kind of boy girls would go out of their way to catch a glimpse of—the type who sat by the window in the classroom next door, inspiring detours to the restroom just for a chance to see him.

"Want some?" Kitahara asked, noticing Marin's lingering gaze. He held up his glass and gave it a little shake.

Before Marin could respond, Ohashi Natsumi exclaimed loudly, "Kitahara, you're so handsome!"

Even Watanabe Hoshi, who had been skeptical earlier, was momentarily stunned. She hadn't expected Kitahara to be this attractive. It completely caught her off guard.

"Just an average face," Kitahara said modestly, though his tone carried a hint of playful self-deprecation.

"If you're 'average,' then what does that make us?" Ohtani shot back, not fully understanding the joke but sensing the humblebrag.

"Are we supposed to be hideous or something?" Tanaka added, rolling his eyes.

"Kitahara, do you have a girlfriend?" Natsumi asked, standing up and moving to sit beside him.

"Not at the moment," Kitahara replied. If you didn't count his past life, he was technically single.

"Oh? Why not? Did you just go through a breakup or something?" Natsumi pressed, leaning in.

Takamiya Sakaki, watching the exchange, couldn't resist teasing. "Why are you so curious, Natsumi? Do you have a crush on Kitahara?"

"Why not? He's handsome. Isn't it normal to like him?" Natsumi replied without missing a beat, her confidence unwavering.

"Isn't there anyone at Aoba Academy who likes Kitahara?" she added, turning the question to the group.

The moment the topic came up, Ohtani's face twisted with jealousy. "Are you kidding? Girls stuff love letters into his shoe locker every day. By the end of the week, it's completely full. Can you believe that?"

Tanaka chimed in, his tone equally bitter. "And he gets homemade lunches from different girls every day. He's still working through the chocolates he got on Valentine's Day."

Kitahara winced at the memory. "Please, don't remind me," he said, waving his hand dismissively. That Valentine's Day, he'd received nearly ninety chocolates. The problem? He'd spent a small fortune—around 100,000 yen—on return gifts. It was a financial disaster.

If only I'd known better, he thought. But once he'd accepted the first few, turning down the rest would've felt rude.

"Hahaha! Serves you right for being such a people-pleaser!"

"Yeah, you're like a human heater—warm to everyone. You had it coming!"

Ohtani and Tanaka didn't hold back, laughing at Kitahara's misfortune.

"So, Kitahara," Natsumi said, pointing to herself with a mix of shyness and boldness, "what about me? Would you consider dating me?"

Typical of a gyaru, her confidence was unshakable.

"Wow, Natsumi, you're really going for it," Sakaki teased.

"Say yes!"

"Go for it!"

Ohtani and Tanaka were the first to egg her on. If Kitahara started dating someone, they figured it would free up Marin and Hoshi for themselves.

Kitahara knew exactly what they were thinking, though he didn't quite understand their logic.

"Sorry, but I'm not planning to date anyone until after graduation," he said politely.

His eyes briefly scanned Natsumi's outfit—the half-open collar that revealed a little too much, the ultra-short skirt that left little to the imagination. He wasn't interested. If someone else's girlfriend wanted to dress like that, it wasn't his problem. But for his own girlfriend? No way.

Kitahara wasn't about to settle for just anyone. He wouldn't date someone the system had labeled as a "potential match," nor would he let himself become someone's second choice. He knew his worth, and he wasn't going to settle for less than he deserved.