Mash-Up: I'm Not A Substitute

"She doesn't even like Tsubasa!"

"She just accepts confessions? Does she have no opinions of her own?"

"That shameless, frivolous girl."

Inside the dessert café, Maki was venting her frustrations to Takashi, listing everything that was wrong with her best friend.

At first, their conversation had been quite ordinary.

But the moment Takashi "accidentally" brought up relationships, Maki couldn't stop herself.

Perhaps she had been holding it in for too long. Or maybe Takashi's resemblance to Tsubasa gave her a sense of familiarity. 

Thinking that they didn't know each other anyway, she decided to treat him like a diary and poured out all the grievances in her heart.

'Girls' friendships sure are fragile.'

If Takashi remembered correctly, just a few minutes ago, she had called Kashiwagi Nagisa her best friend.

And now? Nagisa was suddenly a shameless, frivolous girl.

But Takashi didn't point that out.

He understood one crucial rule—when a girl complains about her best friend in front of you, never agree or add fuel to the fire.

If you do, she might start hating you instead.

So he just listened.

"Shijo-san, are you really going to just sit back and watch?"

Of course, he couldn't stay silent forever.

Even the best listener had to give the occasional response.

"You're not going to step in?"

Maki took her lips off the straw, tucked her hair behind her ear, and said, "Step in? What a barbaric way of thinking."

"I would never do something as shameless as stealing another girl's boyfriend."

"Love between students is just child's play. It never lasts."

"They'll break up soon anyway."

"I don't have to do anything. I just need to sit back, sip my tea, and wait for them to break up."

"So really, it doesn't matter who he's dating right now…"

Takashi thought about it for a moment. She had a point.

Most high school relationships didn't last past graduation.

Graduation season was breakup season.

'Didn't expect her to be this rational.'

Takashi had just started to admire her clarity of mind when, in the very next second, she shattered that illusion.

Maki sat right there, tears welling up in her eyes, sobbing as she wiped them away. "As long as he comes back to me in the end, that's enough."

Takashi: "..."

I thought you were an independent, clear-headed modern woman.

Turns out, you were just putting on a front.

You cry under the bridge, wipe away your tears, pretend you don't care, and just agree with whatever anyone says.

"…Are you really okay with this?"

For some reason, Takashi suddenly recalled a past memory. Without thinking, he blurted out the question.

"Hmph."

Maki lifted her chin arrogantly, like a proud swan. "I'm not like you fragile people. I have a heart of steel."

Takashi stared at her. "For the next three years, you're going to watch them act all lovey-dovey in front of you."

"You'll see them touching and holding hands constantly."

"Late at night, when they're alone, they'll exchange warmth, whispering about how they'll be together forever."

"You'll watch them gaze into each other's eyes. Then, when the excitement fades and their needs are met, they'll break up—and that's when he'll come to you as a backup option."

"And when he's with you, he'll still think about her sometimes."

"He'll do all the things he did with her—things they've done countless times before. And you'll be the only one feeling special, deluding yourself into happiness."

"He'll trash-talk his ex just enough to keep you from getting upset, making it sound like she was nothing." 

"But deep down, he still smiles when he remembers her. And even knowing this, you'll still pretend you don't care."

At first, Maki tried to keep up her strong front.

But the more Takashi spoke, the more uneasy she became.

Just imagining those scenes was unbearable.

"So, in the end, no one can truly let this kind of thing go."

Takashi watched her reaction, the same reaction he had once had. His eyes lowered slightly.

He understood how she felt.

Because the human mind—especially one with a vivid imagination—couldn't help but create detailed, lifelike images of those moments. 

The expressions, the movements, the words—it all felt unbearably real.

He had experienced it himself.

Strictly raised by his parents, he had never really dated in college, focusing solely on his studies.

His first real relationship came after graduation, quite late in life.

He had loved his first girlfriend deeply and had been genuinely happy with her.

But she had already had a past love—a deep, unforgettable one.

They had broken up because the guy was too poor.

So sometimes, in the dead of night, Takashi would wonder: Was she really with me for love?

Did she truly like me?

He didn't know. He couldn't say for sure.

But just thinking about what she had shared with that other guy made his chest tighten, his skin crawl.

It wasn't something he could rationalize away.

Could he blame her?

She had simply fallen for someone and wanted to be with them.

But goddamn it, Takashi just couldn't let it go.

Every time he thought about it, his heart twisted in pain.

In the end, he chose to break up.

Sometimes, he wondered if he was the one with the problem.

"…W-why would you say something like that?"

Maki clutched her chest, like a cracked eggshell struggling to hold itself together. Tears streamed down her face, falling like pearls from a broken string.

"I'm sorry."

Watching her cry, Takashi felt a twinge of guilt.

He took out a handkerchief and gently wiped her tears away.

But that simple gesture made her cry even harder, her sobs growing uncontrollable.

The café fell silent.

People turned to stare.

Many of them—especially the women—glared at Takashi like he was trash.

Takashi ignored their judgmental looks.

He glanced at his now tear-soaked handkerchief, thinking about replacing it with a fresh one—when suddenly, Maki grabbed his wrist.

Her grip was surprisingly strong. He could easily break free, but after a moment of hesitation, he decided against it and let his hand stay where it was.

After crying for a long while, she finally began to calm down.

But the suffocating pain and frustration in her heart remained.

She snatched the handkerchief from his hand, turned away, and muttered, "I'll wash it and return it to you."

Takashi didn't really care about the handkerchief.

Come to think of it, Eriri had given it to him.

He had no idea how much it cost, but it was comfortable to use, so he had kept it with him.

Maki stuffed it into her bag, then looked up at him. Her eyes were red and swollen.

"I've decided. I'm going to steal him back. Any advice?"

Takashi froze.

Wait—I came here to be a substitute, and now you're using me as a strategist?!

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

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