Drake tightly gripped the love letter in his hand. His palms sweaty, as he made his way to Kendricks locker. His skirt hiking up as he fell, Kendrick shoved him on the ground. "Oi, oi, oi.... These bakas be trippin..." Kendrick chuckled as he watched Drake scramble to pick up the letter. Kendrick stomped on the letter crushing it under his foot leaving Drake in shock, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. "Baka. I only love Donald trump, twink." Drake’s voice trembled. “Kendrick… why him? He doesn’t even drop bars.”

Kendrick scoffed, crossing his arms, eyes narrowing with faux anime intensity. “Bars? Hah. You wouldn’t understand… Donald’s… aura. His… golden hair glistening in the sunlight like a rare Pokémon foil card.”

Drake’s knees wobbled. “So what? I can make you mixtapes. I can ghostwrite you love haikus. I can—”

“Shut it, baka!” Kendrick snapped, his cheeks turning just a shade too pink. “It’s not like I… like you or anything… idiot.”

From down the hallway, a slow, ominous clap echoed. The crowd parted as Donald Trump himself entered, wearing sunglasses indoors and holding a McDonald’s bag like a prized relic. “Kenny. Babe.”

Drake’s heart sank. But as Trump got closer, Kendrick’s expression faltered—just for a moment—his eyes flickering toward Drake with a look that said help me.

Drake’s grip tightened on the now-crumpled letter. Maybe this wasn’t over after all.

“Kenny, I brought you the 20-piece McNuggets… extra sweet ‘n sour. Just how you like it,” Trump purred, tossing his golden hair back in a motion so slow it felt like time itself bowed to him.

Kendrick’s face went beet red—not from love, but from the sheer embarrassment of being called Kenny in front of Drake. He grabbed the nuggets like they were contraband and hissed, “Tch… you shouldn’t have come here, Donald. Not in front of him.”

Trump glanced at Drake with the squint of a man trying to read the menu at a very far-away Arby’s. “Who’s this? Another SoundCloud rapper?”

Drake’s jaw clenched. “I’m not just another rapper… I’m the man who’s gonna steal Kendrick’s heart!” His voice cracked halfway through, but the passion was there.

The hallway gasped. Someone dropped their anime body pillow.

Kendrick’s eyes widened. “Baka! Don’t just say things like that in front of him!” His voice trembled, but his tsundere energy was spiking dangerously high.

Drake stepped forward, the fluorescent lights glinting off the tears still clinging to his lashes. “Kendrick… I’ll fight for you. Even if I have to rap battle Donald Trump himself in the cafeteria at lunch period.”

Trump smirked, biting into a nugget with slow menace. “You’re on, Canada.”

The bell rang, but nobody went to class. The entire school swarmed into the cafeteria, desks and chairs pushed aside to form a makeshift arena.

Kendrick sat on top of a vending machine like a moody anime love interest, scarf fluttering even though there was no wind. His gaze kept darting between Drake and Trump, lips pressed tight as if the fate of his heart depended on the outcome.

Drake cracked his knuckles. “You ready to lose your presidency, Donald?”

Trump adjusted his tie, tossing a chicken nugget into his mouth without breaking eye contact. “I was born ready. And rich. Mostly rich.”

A beat dropped out of nowhere—probably from the school’s one kid who carries a portable DJ set for clout.

Drake’s verse hit first:

“I’m the 6 God, flowing clean, no pollution,

Here to end your Kendrick-love delusion,

Trump Tower? I’ll make it crumble to dust,

Kenny, choose me—someone you can trust!”

The crowd went wild, a random anime girl screamed “Sugoiiii!” in the background.

Trump’s turn:

“I’m a business tycoon, not a SoundCloud clown,

Running these bars like I run this town,

Golden hair, golden heart, golden mic in my palm,

Kendrick knows I’m the presidential bomb.”

The cafeteria erupted in chaotic cheers. Someone fainted.

Kendrick’s fists clenched on his knees, muttering under his breath, “Why… why is my heart beating like this… for both of them?!”

The DJ yelled, “FINAL ROUND!” and the lights flickered like a shonen anime power-up was about to happen.

The cafeteria was a warzone. Not in the literal sense—though someone had already flipped a lunch table in anticipation—but in the way anime treats high school settings when emotions run hotter than lava. The crowd was a mix of screaming fangirls, confused freshmen, and at least one teacher live-streaming the event on TikTok.

Kendrick sat cross-legged on the vending machine like some tsundere god-king overseeing a gladiator match. His scarf was still somehow blowing dramatically despite the fact that the AC had been broken for weeks.

Drake stood on the left, clutching the mic like a knight’s sword.

Donald Trump stood on the right, holding a single chicken nugget like it was a talisman of divine power.

Between them, the school’s resident DJ—a senior named DJ McFlurry—hovered over his deck with the intensity of a surgeon performing a heart transplant.

The beat dropped.

---

Round 1: Words as Weapons

Drake stepped forward first, sneakers squeaking against the linoleum. His eyes locked on Kendrick.

> “Kendrick, my love, I’ve walked miles for your heart,

Through mixtape battles and Billboard charts,

You chase a man with a spray-tan glow,

But I’m the one who’ll never let you go.”

A chorus of “OOOOHHHH”s echoed through the cafeteria. Even the lunch lady, who normally didn’t care about anything, muttered, “Damn.”

Trump smirked and took a step forward, tossing the nugget in the air and catching it in his mouth without blinking. He pointed at Drake like an anime villain pointing at the hero just before his transformation scene.

> “I’m the Don, the king, the president supreme,

Living the life of every man’s dream,

You think you can win with rhymes so cheap?

I’ve got hotels, planes, and gold that’s deep.”

The crowd roared. A freshman fainted into their anime body pillow.

Kendrick leaned back against the vending machine, hiding his face under his scarf. Why is my chest pounding like a trap beat at a club…? Baka Drake… Baka Donald…

---

Round 2: The Power-Up

The DJ’s fingers flew across the turntables, the beat picking up speed until it sounded like an opening theme to a long-running shonen anime. The fluorescent cafeteria lights began flickering like they knew a battle of the gods was happening.

Drake narrowed his eyes. This wasn’t just a rap battle anymore. This was a fight for love. He dropped the mic to his side, took a deep breath, and let his Shonen Protagonist Aura™ explode around him in a visible golden glow.

“Wait—he’s powering up?” a kid in the crowd shouted.

Drake raised the mic again.

> “You can have your towers, your gold, your fame,

But love ain’t something you can stake a claim,

Kendrick, I’ll stand by you through storm and fire,

Not just treat you like a business empire!”

Lightning cracked across the ceiling tiles. Someone’s juice box exploded.

Trump stepped up, smirk widening. “Oh, so you’re glowing? Cute. Watch this.”

He reached into his suit jacket, pulled out a MAGA hat, and placed it on his head. The Ultra Capitalist Aura™ ignited around him—a blinding gold-and-orange flame that smelled faintly of McDonald’s fries and high interest rates.

> “Money talks, and I’ve got the speech,

Kendrick knows I’m the one to teach,

You want his love? I’ll buy the whole school,

‘Cause in my world, power’s the rule.”

The crowd screamed. Kendrick’s face flushed—whether from embarrassment, anger, or something else entirely was anyone’s guess.

---

Round 3: The Twist

The beat stopped abruptly. Silence. The DJ looked up from his deck, sweat pouring down his face. “I… I can’t keep up,” he gasped. “Your love… your greed… it’s too strong.”

Kendrick hopped down from the vending machine, landing between the two combatants with perfect anime slow-motion. His scarf whipped around him as he glared at both men.

“Enough,” he said. His voice was low, dangerous. “You think this is about flashy rhymes and who can flex harder? Baka. This is about me.”

Both men froze. Even the crowd leaned in.

Kendrick turned to Drake first. “You, always chasing me… spilling your heart like a bad chorus hook. Do you even know what you’re fighting for?”

Drake opened his mouth, but Kendrick shut him up with a single sharp glance. He then turned to Trump. “And you… thinking you can just buy everything you want. I’m not a building you can own, Donald. I’m…” He hesitated, his voice faltering. “…I’m more than that.”

Trump blinked, uncharacteristically silent.

The crowd gasped. Someone whispered, “Character development…?”

---

Round 4: The Confession That Wasn’t

Kendrick stepped back, clenching his fists. “The truth is… I don’t even know who I want.” His cheeks were crimson now, his tsundere defenses cracking. “Maybe I like Drake… maybe I like Donald… maybe I…” He trailed off, muttering something under his breath.

“What was that?” Drake asked, stepping closer.

Kendrick exploded. “I SAID MAYBE I LIKE BOTH OF YOU, OKAY?! BAKA!!”

The cafeteria fell silent. Then erupted into chaos. People screamed. One guy fell out of his chair. The lunch lady dropped an entire tray of pizza.

Drake’s eyes widened. Trump’s jaw dropped. The tension was thick enough to be sold as limited-edition vinyl.

---

Round 5: The Shonen Love Finale

The DJ suddenly restarted the beat, now faster, louder, and somehow infused with the sound of seagulls. “FINAL ROUND!” he yelled.

Drake and Trump exchanged a look. They both stepped toward Kendrick at the same time, voices overlapping in a chaotic, perfectly in-sync verse.

> Drake: “If it’s both you want, I’ll share the stage,

Love ain’t something we gotta cage,

We can rap together, make the crowd ignite,

Kendrick in the middle, yeah, it feels just right.”

> Trump: “I’ll build a bridge, not a wall, for you,

We’ll all win big—make dreams come true,

Gold for the left, love for the right,

Kendrick, babe, we’ll share the spotlight.”

The cafeteria lost its collective mind. People climbed on tables. Someone set off the fire alarm. Confetti fell from the ceiling—though no one knew where it came from.

Kendrick froze. His heart was pounding like a bass drop. These idiots… these absolute bakas… are they really… working together for me? His scarf fluttered dramatically again, as if agreeing with his thoughts.

---

Epilogue: The Aftermath

By the time the principal showed up to break it all up, Drake, Kendrick, and Trump were sitting together at a lunch table, sharing the McNuggets. The crowd was gone, the cafeteria trashed, and the DJ was lying on the floor, mumbling something about “never spinning for love again.”

Drake leaned on the table, looking at Kendrick. “So… what now?”

Kendrick looked away, cheeks pink. “Baka… we’ll see. But… maybe you’re not as bad as I thought. And Donald…” He glanced at Trump, “…you’re still an idiot, but… you make good nuggets.”

Trump grinned like he’d just closed a billion-dollar deal. “I’ll take it.”

And as the three of them sat there in awkward, oddly warm silence, the camera of life panned up, leaving the question unanswered: Who would win Kendrick’s heart in the end?

The cafeteria incident had gone viral. TikToks of Drake and Trump rapping for Kendrick’s love had hit 12 million views, sparking memes, fancams, and at least one conspiracy theory that the entire thing was an elaborate PR stunt for a collab album.

But in the weeks that followed, something strange happened.

Donald Trump stopped showing up at Kendrick’s locker. He stopped bringing McNuggets. He stopped making snide comments about Drake’s Canadian accent.

Kendrick didn’t know why—until it happened.

---

Scene 1: The Mech Suit Reveal

It was a Thursday. Kendrick was chilling at his usual spot by the vending machine, scarf fluttering in the still, stagnant hallway air. He was halfway through his third bag of Hot Cheetos when the ground shook.

At first, Kendrick thought it was just the vending machine acting up again. But then, from outside the school, came the deafening clank-clank-clank of metal footsteps.

The windows went dark as a massive Tesla-branded mech suit loomed outside. The chest plate opened, and out stepped Elon Musk, wearing sunglasses and a suit made entirely of shiny crypto coins.

“Kenny, babe!” Trump’s voice echoed as he leapt down from the mech’s cockpit… straight into Elon’s arms.

Kendrick’s Cheetos bag slipped from his hand.

---

Scene 2: The Betrayal

“D-Donald?” Kendrick’s voice cracked in a way he hated. “What… what is this?”

Trump smirked, still clinging to Elon’s arm like a high school girl with a new boyfriend. “Kenny, this is Elon. We’re… together now.”

Elon adjusted his sunglasses without looking at Kendrick. “We’ve merged… romantically and financially. TrumpMusk Inc. is the future. We’re thinking of calling it… TeslAmerica.”

The hallway gasped. Even the vending machine beeped in shock.

Kendrick’s chest tightened. “Baka… you can’t just… leave me for some billionaire cyborg wannabe.”

Trump shrugged. “Sorry, babe. Elon’s got rockets.”

---

Scene 3: Drake’s Attempt at Comfort

Later, Kendrick sat alone on the bleachers behind the gym, scarf hiding most of his face. Drake approached, holding a caramel frappuccino like it was a peace offering.

“Kenny…” Drake started softly. “I heard about… you know. Trump and Elon.”

Kendrick’s eyes stayed glued to the ground. “…I don’t care.”

Drake sat beside him. “You do. And that’s okay. I’m here for you.”

Kendrick turned his head away, cheeks red. “Baka. Don’t act like you care. You’re just happy I’m single again.”

Drake gave a small smile. “…Yeah. I am.”

For a moment, it seemed like Kendrick might soften—but then his phone buzzed. It was a tweet from Trump:

> @realDonaldTrump: “Date night with Elon 💖🚀 #MuskLove #BillionaireBoys”

Kendrick’s fists clenched. “…That’s it. I’m not sitting here while he flaunts his stupid… stupid rocket boy.”

---

Scene 4: The Jealous Rampage

The next day, Kendrick showed up at school in full anime fight-mode. His scarf billowed like a storm cloud, his eyes glinting with dangerous resolve.

Drake caught up to him in the hallway. “Uh… Kenny? Where are you going?”

Kendrick didn’t even look at him. “To get Donald back.”

Drake froze. “…What?”

“I don’t care if Elon’s got rockets, bitcoins, or a mech suit. Donald’s mine.” Kendrick’s voice cracked again, and his blush betrayed his tsundere fury. “And I’m not letting some cyberpunk raccoon-eyed billionaire take him away.”

Drake’s heart sank. “So… what about me?”

Kendrick gave him a quick, sharp glance. “…Baka. You were just… a distraction.”

Drake’s chest tightened, but before he could respond, Kendrick was already gone—storming toward the school gates like a shonen protagonist about to start a new story arc.

---

Scene 5: The TrumpMusk Confrontation

The parking lot was chaos. Elon’s mech stood parked in the middle like a luxury yacht at a skate park. Trump and Elon were sitting on lawn chairs under its shadow, sipping champagne and talking about space colonies.

Kendrick stomped up to them, scarf flaring. “Donald. We need to talk.”

Trump looked mildly surprised, then grinned. “Kenny, babe! You came to see me.”

“I came to take you back,” Kendrick snapped.

Elon raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, scarf boy, but he’s with me now.”

Kendrick stepped forward, his Hot Cheetos-stained fingers curling into fists. “Then I’ll fight you for him. Me versus your mech.”

Elon laughed. “You? Against this?” He patted the side of the Tesla mech like it was a beloved pet. “You wouldn’t last a second.”

Kendrick smirked. “Wanna bet, crypto boy?”

---

Scene 6: The Drake Dilemma

Meanwhile, Drake stood in the shadows of the school building, watching Kendrick challenge Elon. His heart twisted. He wanted to rush in, to help, to be the one Kendrick fought for… but Kendrick had made it clear—he was still chasing Trump.

The DJ from the rap battle appeared beside him out of nowhere. “You gonna just stand there, man?”

Drake sighed. “…Yeah. For now.”

---

To Be Continued…

The mech’s engines roared to life. Kendrick’s scarf whipped violently in the wind. Elon smirked from the cockpit. Trump leaned back in his lawn chair, sipping champagne like this was just another episode of The Apprentice.

Somewhere deep down, Kendrick knew this wasn’t just a fight for Trump… it was a fight for his pride. And maybe—just maybe—for his tsundere heart.