Mash-Up: I'm Not A Substitute

At the front of Class 1-A, the math teacher held a piece of chalk and tapped it against the blackboard while writing about set theory.

The concept of sets.

Sufficient and necessary conditions.

Truth values of propositions.

The three types of propositions: converse, inverse, and contrapositive.

The students below were all listening attentively.

Whether they actually understood or not was another matter.

At the back of the classroom by the window, Takashi twirled his pen as he followed along with the lesson.

Japanese high school education covered a lot of material.

In the first semester of first year, students had to learn number theory, set theory, quadratic functions, planar geometry, data analysis, and statistics.

By the second semester, they would move on to probability and combinatorics, integer properties, and the characteristics of various geometric figures.

In the second year, the difficulty would increase even more.

If a high school graduate from China attempted to take Japan's standardized entrance exam and university-specific tests without additional preparation, their scores would be abysmal.

'So tell me, how do those isekai protagonists become academic geniuses while skipping class and never studying?'

With the foundation of his past life's knowledge and a naturally sharp mind, Takashi had no trouble keeping up with the lessons.

Even so, he still didn't dare to zone out in class—he had to pay close attention.

When the bell signaled the end of the period, Shota Otani immediately jumped to his feet and called out to Takashi and Kota Tanaka, "Takashi, Kota, let's go eat!"

The math teacher, who was just about to leave the classroom, stopped in his tracks and gave him a deep look.

He had decided—next class, he would definitely call on Otani to answer a question.

Terrified of being noticed, Kota Tanaka immediately flopped onto his desk and chanted in his heart, 'You can't see me, you can't see me…'

"Hey, why are you lying down?" Otani, completely oblivious, ran over.

Luckily, the math teacher had already left. Tanaka sat up and scolded him, "Couldn't you wait until the teacher was gone?! So, what are we eating today?"

"Miso ramen, of course! Miso ramen is the best!"

"What? Set meals? Yeah, I think so too."

"Kota, you bastard! Watch how I deal with you! ORA ORA ORA!"

"Useless, MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA!"

"You actually blocked all of that? I underestimated you! Behold my domain: Infinite Void!"

"Pathetic, Gojo Shota! Witness my ultimate move—Cursed Coffin!"

Under the utterly speechless gazes of their classmates, the two chuuni boys—Shota Otani and Kota Tanaka—started goofing off.

Takashi quietly stood up, pretending not to know them. He lowered his head and quickly walked toward the door.

Honestly, he couldn't understand how this was any different from taking a dump in the middle of the street.

Was this just how anime fans were?

"Takashi, wait for me!" ×2

Hearing that, Takashi picked up the pace.

Just as he stepped out of the classroom, a love letter came flying toward him with surprising force, smacking him square in the face.

"Kitahara-kun, please go out with me!"

Rubbing his face where the envelope had hit him, Takashi looked at the pretty, well-endowed girl in front of him.

"How many times has this happened this week?"

"The ninth time, I think."

"Damn it, he's really something else!"

By now, Class 1-A was used to seeing Takashi getting confessed to at the classroom door.

Everyone watched with amused curiosity, waiting for yet another pretty girl to be mercilessly rejected.

Some of the boys even entertained the idea of swooping in to comfort her afterward—maybe, just maybe, she'd fall for a kind and understanding guy instead.

Dreams were meant to be chased, after all.

Takashi didn't mind being the center of attention, but he really didn't want to be treated as entertainment. "Um… Oka…"

Before he could finish, the girl looked up in surprise and corrected him, "Uh… My name is Komaki Ayami."

Takashi: "..."

After a brief silence, he bowed slightly. "My apologies."

He hadn't done it on purpose.

As a special scholarship student, top of his grade, guaranteed a spot in the honors class next semester, and with a clear path to a prestigious university, it was only natural for him to be popular with the girls.

Being a straight-A student already made him stand out, and with his striking good looks—standing 177 cm tall as a first-year, with the potential to break 180—how could a high-quality guy like him not attract attention?

His locker was stuffed with love letters every day.

Some people would never receive even one love letter in their entire lives, but he received no fewer than seven confessions per week.

Even the girls he rejected didn't give up, believing that persistence could wear him down.

This led to situations where the same girl would confess to him multiple times in a single week.

At Aoba Private High School, where the academic deviation score was an absurd 77, the girls were all the same age, wore the same uniform, had similar hairstyles, and even spoke in the same tone. 

If you didn't pay close attention, their faces were hard to tell apart.

"Komaki-san, if there's nothing else, I'll be going now."

With that, Takashi attempted to sidestep her.

Komaki Ayami quickly moved to block his path. "Kitahara-kun, I haven't finished speaking!"

He stopped and looked at her.

Komaki hesitated, glancing up at him nervously. 

Her voice was soft but determined. 

"Kitahara-kun, I know you don't know me, and confessing like this might seem sudden and intrusive, but please believe me—I'm not a frivolous person…"

Under Takashi's calm gaze, she lowered her head in embarrassment, her pale fingers fidgeting with her uniform hem.

"One afternoon last week, I saw you in the library…"

She recalled that moment—a bright, sunny day with a gentle breeze. The boy, dressed in a crisp white shirt, was absorbed in his book.

The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a golden glow over his deep, focused eyes. That perfect image was forever imprinted in Komaki Ayami's heart.

"I think… It was love at first sight. These past few days, whenever I think of you, my heart starts pounding…"

Her voice grew quieter and quieter.

Meanwhile, Takashi's expression remained as still as a dead lake.

Overcome with shyness, Komaki Ayami's face turned as red as a ripe persimmon, looking as though it might start dripping juice at any moment.

"I want to get to know you, to be part of your future, so please… give me a chance."

This confession—she meant it.

Komaki Ayami truly liked Kitahara Takashi.

She didn't want to let her youth pass by with regrets.

Takashi patiently listened until she finished. Just as he was about to politely decline, a pale, slender hand suddenly grabbed his arm and yanked him away.

He turned to see Narii. "Hey, what are you doing?"

She didn't answer, just pulled him along with a grim expression.

"Let go of me, you're going to rip my uniform."

Despite his complaints, Takashi obediently followed. Internally, he gave her a silent thumbs-up.

She had shown up at just the right moment.

Kamikawa dragged him around a corner, then suddenly shoved him against the wall and slammed both hands beside his head with a loud thud!

'Wait, am I getting kabedon-ed?'

Takashi blinked in confusion.

This was the first time in both his lives that a girl had pinned him against a wall.

The problem was, Narii wasn't as tall as him, so in trying to imitate a manga-style kabedon, she had to place her hands at his ribs instead.

From a distance, it looked less like she was pinning him in place and more like she was hugging him.

"Kitahara Takashi, are you doing this on purpose?"

Takashi: "?"

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Check out the other translations too: [Mash-Up: Anything For Money]

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