Mash-Up: I'm Not A Substitute

The sun slowly dipped below the sea's horizon, leaving only a blush of color at the edge of the sky—so beautiful it looked like a master's painting.

Ripples shimmered across the water like golden waves under the evening light, gently spreading out.

In the golden-red sky, a single-rotor helicopter appeared from the distance and slowly descended, landing smoothly in the courtyard of a villa in Chiyoda Ward.

Tokyo, the capital of the island nation, had its own unique social hierarchy and values.

People in Kyoto judged others based on where they lived.

To them, only those living inside the Inner Loop Line (within the 7th ring) were "true" Tokyoites. Anyone outside the 23 wards didn't count.

Within the 23 wards of Tokyo, Chiyoda and Minato held the highest status.

"Welcome home, young lady."

As Takashi stepped off the helicopter, a large group of bodyguards and servants lined up in two rows before the mansion, bowing in perfect sync. 

The display was as over-the-top as something from a TV drama about a wealthy heiress returning home.

Takashi even saw maids.

Not the kind from Akihabara maid cafés, but the traditional kind—dressed in black and white long dresses, fully covered from head to toe.

Clearly used to it, Hitomi showed no reaction, yawning as she headed for the mansion.

The house was a traditional Japanese building.

While Hitomi was used to this, Takashi—who followed two steps behind—wasn't.

In his past life, he was just an ordinary man from a socialist background. This life was even worse—an orphan with no parents from the start. He had never witnessed such grandeur, and it was only natural to feel a bit out of place.

Not exactly inferiority, just… discomfort.

Before they even entered the house, maids and bodyguards came up to perform a body check.

Takashi thought they would search him too and stopped to wait.

But they simply walked around him, ignoring him entirely.

"Young Master Kitahara, you may go right in."

An older maid made a polite gesture.

"Ah… Oh, okay."

He followed Hitomi inside.

The building had white walls and green tiles. It wasn't flashy but exuded a refined dignity. It sat by a river, surrounded by ancient trees and a tranquil atmosphere—like the residence of a reclusive sage.

Takashi didn't even know where to look.

He had no idea how many billions this property might be worth, but he knew one thing for sure—this wasn't something you could attain through effort alone.

If you weren't born with it, you didn't get it.

Because this was Chiyoda Ward—the symbol of wealth, status, and taste.

Owning a villa here was like having a traditional courtyard home in central Beijing.

Money alone couldn't buy this.

Entering the living room, Takashi was struck by a sense of vastness—as though stepping into another world.

Portraits lined the right wall. He didn't recognize anyone, but he could guess—they were probably ancestors of the Konoe family.

In the center of the room was the family crest—a large peony emblem.

"This is my home. Last time at the Sawamura estate, didn't you say you wanted to see it?"

Walking ahead, Hitomi spoke.

Takashi pulled his gaze back from wandering: "Why did you bring me here?"

"When you heard Narii call me 'nee-san,' what were you thinking?"

Hitomi didn't turn around.

"Nothing," Takashi replied with a smile.

"Don't want to say? Fine, I'll answer for you."

Hitomi stopped, turned to face him, and looked him directly in the eye. "You thought I got close to you just for Narii's sake."

"That all the nice things I did were because of her—and that made you upset."

Takashi raised an eyebrow like he always did. "Why would I be upset?"

Hitomi's gaze pierced him as if trying to see through everything. Her voice was firm. "Because you like me."

"Yozakura Ojou-sama, aren't you being a little too full of yourself?"

Takashi smiled and met her gaze, calm and composed.

"I like a lot of girls. You've investigated me, right? You should know I never turn down a beautiful girl."

"If we're talking about who I like, that list is long."

"Is that so?"

Hitomi didn't argue. She simply turned and walked upstairs.

After spending so much time with him, she was beginning to understand what kind of man he was.

He liked to keep everything inside. 

Even when he spoke, it was always a mix of truth and lies.

You could never really tell what was sincere and what wasn't.

She led him to a room on the second floor.

She didn't go in but motioned for him to enter first.

Takashi hesitated for less than a second, then stepped inside.

But only a few steps in, he suddenly stopped, eyes wide in shock, pupils trembling.

The wall facing the door was covered in photos of him.

No—he looked around.

All four walls were filled with his photos.

There were photos of him wearing makeup while on a date with Kasumigaoka Utaha, photos of him talking to Kitagawa Marin when he had agreed to go to a mixer with Otani Shota and Tanaka Kota, photos of him attending the Tokyo Cat and Dog Expo last time with Yukino, and even some with Shijo Maki…

Even pictures of him with Umaru and Hayasaka Ai, whom he had just recently met, were among them.

Each photo was labeled with the date and time—down to the exact minute.

"So? Do you like it?"

Hitomi gently closed the door behind her and locked it. Leaning her back against the door, she smiled cheerfully at Takashi.

The click! of the lock echoed in the room, sending a chill down Takashi's spine.

Had he just walked right into a trap?

"Don't rush. There's more~"

Hitomi walked past the frozen Takashi, turned on the computer monitor, and began operating it without even glancing back. 

"Takashi, come here," she called out.

Takashi stood frozen on the spot.

"Come here."

Hitomi stepped forward, took his hand, and dragged him to the computer, forcing him down onto the chair.

What appeared on the screen next made Takashi go stiff, his whole body going cold.

The footage on the monitor wasn't from the Konoe household—it was his own home. (*)

From the kitchen to the bathroom, the living room to the bedroom, the entrance to the balcony clothes rack—every inch of his home had been recorded. 

Clearly. Vividly.

He had absolutely no privacy.

This was straight out of The Truman Show!

"Every time I come back to the office and don't see you, I sit here and watch you."

Hitomi rested her small head on Takashi's shoulder. Tilting her face, she gently rubbed her cheek against his.

"Honestly, watching you every day is exhausting."

"But I want to know—who are you talking to every day? What are you talking about? 

Who are you going out with? Are they male or female? How many times did you think of me? Did you ever…"

Her jade-like fingers slowly brushed across Takashi's face.

Her body temperature had always been lower than normal. 

As her palm caressed his cheek, he felt like a beautiful snake was slowly coiling around his neck, inch by inch, suffocating him.

His breathing grew difficult.

"Takashi, now do you understand how much I love you?"

Hitomi's lips curved into a faint smile, blooming like a flower.

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