Make Them Love Me Or They'll End The World-Chapter 146: It’s Up TO Me!

Tengen stepped forward while the girls stayed behind him. If anyone was going to confront Kira, it had to be him; Sumire and the others didn't really know her like that, and the Alberlines had completely forgotten her because of their memory loss. So it was up to Tengen.

The corridor air was cold and a little stale, that school-cleaner citrus tang still clinging to the waxed floors. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead. Somewhere, a printer stuttered. Tengen swallowed. His palms were sweating.

"H-hey, Kira, what brings you here, haha?" he said, letting out a little chuckle. But Kira could tell from the instant he spoke that he was nervous.

Her face was flat as she spoke, her voice level, the words clipped clean: "Well… I'm here to hand in my paperwork to play as the antagonist…"

"That can't be, how dare you!" Yura jumped forward, her heel snapping against the tile, crossing her arms as she scowled at Kira. The temperature seemed to drop a degree just from her glare.

Kira tilted her head as she looked Yura dead in the eye. "What, I don't suppose you want to play the role…" she said as her eyes narrowed.

Yura folded her arms with a smirk. "Tsch, of course I will be. I am the perfect person to play the character."

Kira's eyebrow twitched, just once. "This emo wannabe thinks she's better than me," she said to herself, eyes flicking down and then back up, taking Yura's measure like she was a target profile.

Tengen felt the tension explode between them; it crackled in the space like static, raising the hair on his arms.

"Hahahah, girls, let's not fight. Surely there's a better way of going about this-"

"SHUT IT!" they both replied, not even glancing at him.

"Oh god… this is bad. Ken, I need you here, buddy," he muttered under his breath, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. The drop ran cool down his temple, tickling, annoying, very real.

Mika furrowed her brow at Tengen's pathetic attempt to calm the situation. She exhaled through her nose, stepped in front of him, and clapped her hands once, sharp, ringing off the lockers.

"Listen, girls. Fighting here will only waste time. If both of you want to play Maleficent, then you're going to have to put it to the test on stage!" She stabbed a finger between them on the final word, like planting a flag.

"On stage?" both girls said in unison, the echo bouncing down the hall.

Sumire's eyes lit up like she'd been waiting her whole life for this moment. "YEAH! That's a great idea, Mika! Let's do it now; I'm sure Mr Tachibana won't mind."

There was silence for a beat. Kira and Yura looked at everyone, then back at each other. A small, matching smirk tugged at both mouths. A duel, then. Fair. Brutal. Perfect.

"Tsch. Very well, if I must defeat her to prove such a point, then I have no choice," Yura said, a little too delighted for someone pretending to be inconvenienced.

"It pains me to say this, but this might be the biggest waste of my time yet to prove such a glaring fact that I'm the better one suited," Kira said, tone flat as steel.

"OKAY! It's settled, off to the theatre room we go!" Sumire cheered, already pushing them along by their shoulders. Perfume and shampoo scents lifted into the air as the group moved, vanilla from Sumire, rain-fresh from Mika, Yura's sharper, icy musk. Sneakers squeaked. Hair ribbons rustled. The hallway swallowed them.

They didn't get far.

The staff room door opened with a click. Mr Tachibana stepped out, arms full of graded papers. The sharp smell of printer ink and coffee trailed him. He blinked at the knot of bodies outside his office.

"What's going on here?" he asked, shutting the door behind him.

Everyone froze. Rei and Mika's faces shifted at the same time into matching angelic expressions that screamed trouble.

"Mr Tachibana! We need your help. We have time, and even if we're late, the other students won't mind, will they?" Rei chimed, already looping her arm through his.

He hesitated. "What… is this thing you want me to do?" His voice carried just a hint of fear. The papers crackled in his grip.

They didn't answer. They just took an arm each and gently, then not so gently, dragged him along, talking at him in overlapping sugar-sweet voices. Down the stairs, past the poster of last year's festival, through the double doors that smelled faintly of sawdust and paint.

They explained as they moved. Originally, Mr Tachibana was against it, too long, too risky, too many rules broken before the first period, but after a volley of puppy eyes, quick bows, and a suspiciously timed, "You're the best teacher ever," from Sumire, his resistance melted like butter on a hot pan.

Now, standing outside the theatre room, he took a deep breath. Tengen grabbed the handle and pushed the door.

The smell hit first: dust from the velvet curtains, the warm metal of stage lights, and wood polish from the floor. The room was already lit, stage lamps humming softly, casting that particular golden glow that turns dust motes into glitter. Mr Tachibana stepped in, his shoes tapping a hollow rhythm. He lifted his head.

He stopped dead.

Kira, right behind him, moved around his shoulder, and stopped, too. Her lips parted, but nothing came out.

On the stage, beneath the central spot, sat a girl on the edge of the platform with her knees together, chin on her hands, smiling like a cat who'd found the cream. She wore a green headband. Next to her, swinging legs, identical smile, identical face, another girl, hairpin catching the light.

Two Shaulas.

The air turned colder. Every tiny sound sharpened, the buzz of the rigging, the cough of the old speaker in the corner, a draft sneaking from under the back door. Even Sumire's breath caught and stayed there.

No one spoke.

"My dream… but how? How is that possible?" Kentaro asked slowly, eyes wide. The empty classroom smelled like whiteboard cleaner and old paper. Morning light slanted across the desks, turning dust into drifting galaxies. Tenka stood near the door she'd slammed, a faint bruise of colour still on her cheeks.

Tenka shook her head. "I-I don't know, honestly… I just found myself in a dark place and heard your voice. You were talking to someone. Then I followed your voice and saw you, you were looking at a light, but someone was holding onto you, stopping you from getting into it. I tried calling out, but nothing worked. And then I woke up." Her voice was low. Something in it didn't feel very right. As she'd gone somewhere she shouldn't have gone.

Kentaro didn't reply right away. He stood there, feeling the thud of his heart, the dry catch in his mouth. The fluorescent light buzzed. A student laughed faintly in a faraway hall, normal sounds that made his skin prickle from the contrast.

Finally, he found words. "I see… well then you heard… about her."

"Yes. Tenrae. Who is she?" Tenka asked, meeting his gaze. Her eyes were cutting, but not unkind. Serious. Commander-tense.

Kentaro scratched his head and dropped into the nearest chair. The plastic squeaked under him. "Where do I begin… I should've told you before, but everything happened with Shaula and… I guess I just forgot."

Tenka moved, pulling the chair beside him and sitting, knees angled toward him, body still. She didn't fidget. She didn't blink much. She was the eye of the storm, waiting.

"It all started when I went into Serica's bloom," he said. His voice felt strange in his throat, like unused muscle. "Instantly, it was different. It wasn't like her first bloom. When I jumped in, it was like I was flying around an orbit, and Serica herself was the sun."

"I see…" Tenka replied. Not flat, attentive. She smelled faintly of fabric softener and something warm, like sun on cotton.

"As I was orbiting around Serica, eventually the light was too strong, and then I found myself in a place, a house."

He went on. He laid it out clean: Serica's room and the tiny shoes lined by the door. The walls were painted a blue that tried to be cheerful and failed. The way the air in that dream felt thick with old tears and old tea. The girl called Tenrae, there and not there, how she sat with Serica, how she handed the bloom crystal over like a gift and a curse wrapped together. The way Serica's hands had shaken while taking it. The way the light bent around the name: Tenrae.

He didn't dramatise it. He just told the truth the way he'd seen it. The classroom swallowed his words; the lights hummed. Outside, a gull cried beyond the windows.

Tenka listened without interrupting once. Not even when his voice caught. Not even when he rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked away.

Finally, he finished. The silence afterwards felt like a held breath. Tenka's lashes lowered, lifted. She did not look surprised. She looked like someone who had suspected something and was quietly mourning being right.

"The whole Serica thing sounded like a lot," she said. "And this other version, like Yura. We should speak to Haruka about it. And this Tenrae, huh… This person could very well be the original Alberline, the one who started everything. Unless she was maybe a helper. But the name, Tenrae… it doesn't sound like something I've heard in a while."

Kentaro stood, stretching, back popping, shoulder stiff. "I don't know how or what this Tenrae is, but all I know is this person is still alive and could still be potentially giving people the power of an Alberline, which isn't good at all."

"You're right," Tenka said, standing too. The floor creaked under their weight. "But how do we stop her? And what's her goal? Why create Alberlines at all?" Her eyes searched his face. "What do you think about her, Kentaro? And why do you think she's doing what she's doing?"

He rubbed his chin. The faint rasp of stubble scratched his fingers. "Ummmm… I don't know, honestly. One part of me hates her. Like, why do all this? Why cause so much pain? Not only to people who suffer because of it, like Kira, but also to the Alberlines themselves. I can't even begin to imagine how Serica, Yura, and Aria felt when they were by themselves. And not to mention Shaula, how she's feeling currently."

"I see…" Tenka said softly. The fluorescent light painted a thin line along her cheekbone.

"But also… I'm kind of grateful to her," he blurted, and then winced, like he'd said something dirty. "Like, in a way. Because if it wasn't for her, I would never have met such amazing people. Like the girls. Sure, it was hard, and it'll be hard as we save more Alberlines. But each one of them has become someone special to me, and I can't sit here and say I'm not happy because of that." He paused, looked at Tenka, guilt pooling in his stomach like cold water. "D-does that make me evil? Being happy, people have gone through so much just for me to be happy?"

Tenka's eyes widened at that, just a fraction, before warmth pushed into her gaze. "No. You're not evil, Kentaro. You're far from it. If it weren't for you, who knows what would've happened to the girls? Most likely the worst case." She stepped in close and reached up, flick, her finger thumped his forehead.

"Ow, what was that for?" he yelped, hand flying up. The sting was small, real, anchoring.

Tenka let out a small giggle. "That's for spacing out, dummy. Let's get going before the others get into some inescapable trouble."

He flushed a little, like heat blooming under his skin. "Yeah, you're right." He grabbed the door, cool metal under his palm, and followed her out.

The hallway swallowed them into its noise, footsteps, conversations, the echo of a basketball thump from the gym. The faint smell of cafeteria curry drifted up the stairwell. They moved fast.

But little did they know: Aria, Serica, Yura, Tengen, and Tenka's friends were already in a situation where "inescapable" wasn't a joke, it was a definition.