Mash-Up: I'm Not A Substitute

Shinjuku—one of the core urban areas of Tokyo, a famous commercial district with fully developed entertainment and shopping facilities.

Of course, when people mention Shinjuku, the first thing that comes to mind isn't its commercial prosperity but rather its internationally renowned red-light district—Kabukicho.

It's a neighborhood in Higashi-Shinjuku.

Over three thousand bars, clubs, hotels, and other entertainment venues of various sizes and styles are concentrated here. 

Walking down the streets, you can see foreign tourists of all different skin colors.

This place isn't just a paradise for heterosexuals. Nichome is a well-known gathering spot for gay men in Asia, while Sanchome attracts a large number of lesbian visitors.

Stepping out of Shinjuku Station, Takashi found the streets packed with people.

Men and women dressed in different styles, forming groups, making the area lively even in broad daylight.

"Takashi, over here! Over here!"

Standing at the subway entrance, Takashi was looking for his friends when he suddenly heard someone calling him. 

He turned his head.

Seeing a tall and muscular guy wearing a headband and a tank top, dressed like some kind of wannabe rebel, Takashi was momentarily stunned. 

"What the hell are you wearing?"

Otani Shota looked down at his own outfit and asked in confusion, "What's wrong with it? I saw online that Shibuya gals love this kind of look."

"Shibuya gals…"

Takashi rubbed his temples as if he had a headache.

"They dress like anything but normal people, and you trust their sense of fashion?"

People imagine Shibuya gals as having stunning figures, adorable looks, and trendy fashion.

In reality, though, they wear excessive makeup, have protruding teeth, bowlegs, and look like rural wannabe fashionistas—sometimes even worse than those gaudy internet personalities.

Best not to associate real-life gals with anime gals.

Otani Shota shifted uneasily. "Is it really that bad?"

As a high school student, he didn't follow fashion trends or care about outfits—his parents bought all his clothes.

Basically, whatever they bought, he wore. He had no strong opinions on the matter.

He had actually searched for this outfit on Google.

This behavior was just like a clueless boyfriend looking up "best birthday gifts for girlfriends" on Taobao when he had no idea what to buy.

"A little bit," Takashi said after a moment, then added, "Of course, that's just my personal opinion."

Who knew? Maybe high school girls in Japan today actually loved this look.

To be fair, Japan's fashion sense has gotten pretty weird.

For instance, Takashi never understood what was so great about "glass skin" and "wet-hair makeup" or why Japanese people thought inward-turned knees were cute.

"By the way, which school are we having the group date with today?"

"Students from Kamikawa High School."

"Kamikawa High School?" Takashi thought the name sounded familiar and asked, "Is there a guy named Watanabe Toru in that school?"

Otani Shota scratched his head. "Who's that? Is he famous?"

"Just a handsome guy from Tokyo," Takashi replied vaguely before changing the subject.

"Where's Tanaka?"

"He's already at the karaoke place. He was worried you wouldn't know the way, so he sent me to pick you up," Otani Shota explained while leading him down the street.

"It's really hard to get you to come out."

"Every time we invite you, you're either at work or on your way to work."

"You're not even short on money, so why are you working yourself to death like a corporate slave?"

"At our age, shouldn't we be having a sweet high school romance, enjoying our youth, and cherishing these carefree days?"

"God gave you such a handsome face, and you're using it for work? If you don't know how to use it, give it to me!"

The more Otani Shota talked, the angrier he got.

If he had Takashi's face, forget dating just twelve girls based on horoscopes—he wouldn't die until he had charmed at least ten thousand women.

Takashi listened to his complaints, pulled out a tin of chewing gum from the convenience store, took off his mask, tossed two pieces into his mouth, then quickly put the mask back on. 

While chewing, he said, "I just don't want to experience the pain of love. What's wrong with that?"

Economic stability determines everything.

Without a solid financial foundation, love is nothing but a fantasy. To put it bluntly, high school relationships are just driven by hormones.

Out of 100 high school couples, maybe one actually makes it to marriage.

Takashi wouldn't waste his time on a relationship that was bound to go nowhere.

His current plan was to study, work, save money, get into the University of Tokyo, and, after graduation, either take the civil service exam or join a major corporation.

Even though he had a system, just like many other transmigrators, there was no guarantee the system would always be there. 

What if one day it just disappeared? What then?

Takashi wasn't the kind of person who put all his eggs in one basket.

He needed to have a backup plan.

A plan that would allow him to live comfortably even if the system vanished one day.

"Takashi, Shota, over here!"

Otani Shota was about to say something else when a voice interrupted him.

The two turned toward the source of the voice and saw a group of five people—one guy and four girls—standing outside a karaoke bar.

The girls were all dressed in revealing and stylish outfits, showing off large expanses of fair skin.

And they were pretty—way better looking than the typical Shibuya gals.

The guy, on the other hand, had a buzz cut, a tall build, and tanned skin—clearly the kind of athlete who spent a lot of time training outdoors.

As for his looks… well, let's just say they were forgettable.

Tanaka Kota walked up and playfully punched Takashi in the chest. "Could you be any slower?"

Takashi glanced at his four-hand moon phase watch. "I'm actually fifteen minutes early. What's the point of getting here so soon?"

"You should've come even earlier! Can't you see the girls are already here? You really don't feel bad making them wait?"

Maybe because he was standing in front of so many pretty girls, Tanaka Kota had lost his usual carefree attitude and was now trying to act like a gentleman.

Takashi raised an eyebrow. "Did I tell them to come so early?"

Tanaka Kota shot a glance at the beauties behind him, quickly pulled Takashi aside, and whispered, "Bro, I'm begging you—just go with the flow."

For this group date, he had put in a lot of effort—he even dyed his hair green the day before.

If he didn't manage to land a girl today, all the money he spent on clothes, cologne, and hairstyling would go to waste.

Besides, he was so done with being single.

Someone else could take over as the forever-alone guy—he was done with it.

Otani Shota also added with a 'threatening' tone, "Yeah, Takashi, don't make us get on our knees and beg you."

"Fine."

Seeing how low they were willing to stoop, Takashi didn't have the heart to keep teasing them.

These two were athletes, in the prime of their youth, filled with energy.

At their age, most guys were already 'standing up' in hotel rooms, furiously 'pedaling their bikes,' while these two were still stuck in their rooms using tissues to play Catch the Next Generation.

Other people's kids were cherished in their hands.

Their own kids? All stuck to their hands.

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

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