T.M. Opera O offered a faint smile, not answering Dream Weaver's question directly.
Instead, she took a step back, placed her hands on Dream Weaver's shoulders, and gently guided her to the very center of the dance studio.
Pointing at Dream Weaver's reflection bathed in sunlight, she leaned close to her shoulder and said,
"It's because I sensed your confusion, of course."
"Con…fusion?"
Dream Weaver stared at the blurred, sun-drenched face in the mirror, her tone puzzled.
She had felt a bit flustered earlier, true—but how could that be called confusion?
After all, anyone dragged into a situation like that, treated as some kind of prize to be fought over, would feel at a loss.
As if reading her thoughts, T.M. Opera O spoke up again.
"My rival was never some trophy to be won."
She gave Dream Weaver's shoulder a light pat, still pointing at the radiant reflection in the mirror.
"She has always been the brightest star at the center of the stage, guiding and drawing everyone's gaze—the Undisputed Protagonist."
"The crowd cheers for you, fans roar your name, every spotlight on stage focuses on you alone. They wave their glow sticks, hoping just to catch a flicker of your attention."
T.M. Opera O rested her chin on Dream Weaver's shoulder, her warm breath brushing softly against her ear, making Dream Weaver feel as if sunlight itself were flowing around her.
"But you, the star—you haven't yet decided how to face this audience that adores you, that looks up to you."
"That's why you stand alone on that stage, almost… lost."
Listening to T.M. Opera O's words, Dream Weaver gazed at the gleaming figure in the mirror, barely recognizing herself.
"Is this a theory you came up with on stage?"
"Not at all~"
T.M. Opera O's tone shifted suddenly.
With a dancer's grace, she swept from behind Dream Weaver to stand before her in an instant, spreading her arms wide as if to embrace both Dream Weaver and the sunlight.
In a voice like an operatic aria, she sang out,
"How could I, the Conqueror of the Century's End, ever be flustered by the audience's gaze? Their attention is the greatest glory of my legendary reign! Wahahahahahaha!"
Confident, radiant, warm yet not scorching—like the sun itself. That was T.M. Opera O in Dream Weaver's eyes.
Back in the second scripted world, she had tried to mimic that very confidence, to guide those lost souls in Kasamatsu.
In the worlds that followed, Dream Weaver no longer consciously imitated her, yet T.M. Opera O's imprint had quietly woven itself into her very movements.
The racetrack was a stage—only the brightest Uma Musume could stand under the spotlight.
Whether in the Kasamatsu timeline or the recently resolved anomalous worldline, Dream Weaver needed to shine with victorious brilliance to change anything.
But she was not T.M. Opera O, not the Conqueror of the Century's End.
Even if she could carry the world's expectations on the track, Dream Weaver couldn't live her daily life viewing herself as the star of the stage the way T.M. Opera O did.
The bonds she formed were tied to specific worlds, specific scenes, specific roles.
Without those layered realities, Dream Weaver felt she might never have connected with those other Uma Musume at all.
Yet T.M. Opera O was different. Even without those cascading stories, her sunlike confidence would have drawn crowds of admirers at Tracen Academy.
Just like the contrast in their hair—T.M. Opera O's short orange locks caught the eye instantly, wherever she went, like the sun.
While her own… this plain black hair felt like her ordinary life, easily drowned in a sea of faces, stirring not a ripple.
Without the system, without those trials across worlds, she would have remained just another ordinary Uma Musume.
The chance to stand center stage was never something she seized—it was a gift from the gods.
Even if she could shine brightly up there, stepping down would always return her to that unremarkable self.
The Dream Weaver who attracted no one.
"But I'm not the star you say I am—"
Dream Weaver shook her head, but before she could finish, T.M. Opera O wrapped an arm around her waist.
Her hand rested firmly against Dream Weaver's lower back, guiding her into a graceful, backward arc.
In Dream Weaver's vision now, T.M. Opera O seemed to become the sun itself—warm light enveloping her as if radiating from within.
"Then who is it standing on this stage now?"
T.M. Opera O lowered her gaze. Sunlight filtered through her orange-red hair, dusting Dream Weaver's lashes, leaving her dazed and momentarily speechless.
But T.M. Opera O didn't wait for an answer. Her fingers settled lightly at Dream Weaver's waist, while her other hand lifted Dream Weaver's palm, guiding her as if she were a rare treasure.
On tiptoe, left leg sweeping back in a smooth arc—the dust beneath their shoes sketched faint trails on the wooden floor.
The soft rustle of skirts, the crisp tap of toes on wood, the rhythm of their breathing—soon filled the entire studio.
This was their dance.
As the star of the Drama Club, the undisputed Conqueror of the stage, T.M. Opera O was a master of all performance arts, dance included.
Under her lead, even a complete novice like Dream Weaver could follow the steps of a waltz.
Then, suddenly, T.M. Opera O released her right hand. Just as Dream Weaver thought she'd be left adrift, T.M. Opera O pivoted her by the left hand toward the mirror.
Dream Weaver stumbled half a step, only to be caught firmly by T.M. Opera O's right arm before she could lose balance. Their reflections merged in the glass, orange and black hair nearly blending together in the sunlight.
A crossing step—T.M. Opera O chose this move to end the waltz, switching their positions in the process.
"The audience is watching us."
She murmured the words softly.
Dream Weaver felt a flicker of confusion—she hadn't heard anyone else enter.
But in the next moment, following T.M. Opera O's gaze, she understood.
In the mirror, the two stood interchanged under the sun, dust motes dancing like shimmering specks of light around them—an audience witnessing their performance.
"See how you shine right now?"
"My rival."
T.M. Opera O clasped Dream Weaver's hand, speaking to that glowing reflection in the mirror.
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T/N: THATS WHY SHE'S THE GOAT THE GOAT!!!!
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T/N: I have a Patreon! Webnovel will get 2 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.