Save me.. ||MINSUNG HIGH SCHOOL AU

When the worlds fail

Tension between Minho and Jisung had reached its breaking point. After the confrontation with the seniors, something had shifted, but neither of them was willing to admit it. The school was abuzz with rumors—whispers about how Minho had stepped in to defend Jisung. Some people thought it was noble. Others thought it was just another layer to their rivalry.

But no one really knew the truth.

The rivalry, if anything, had intensified since then. Every interaction felt more charged, more personal. In class, they no longer exchanged snarky remarks. They didn't have to. Their silence was sharper than any words they could've thrown at each other. The tension was like a coiled spring, waiting to snap.

---

It was during P.E. one afternoon that everything came crashing down.

Minho and Jisung were forced to be on opposing teams for a game of soccer. Normally, Minho could hold his composure, but something about today was different. There was a fire in Jisung's eyes that Minho couldn't ignore. Every time they crossed paths on the field, their shoulders bumped harder than necessary, their glares lasting a second too long.

Midway through the game, Minho sprinted after the ball, feeling Jisung closing in behind him. He could hear the quick thud of Jisung's footsteps, the air rushing between them as Jisung lunged for the ball.

Minho wasn't about to let him win. Not this time.

He turned sharply, cutting Jisung off just as the other boy tried to steal the ball. Their legs tangled, and in an instant, both of them hit the ground hard, dust and grass flying up around them.

For a moment, everything went still.

Then, before Minho even realized what he was doing, he pushed Jisung off him with more force than necessary. "Watch where you're going," he spat, his voice filled with frustration.

Jisung scrambled to his feet, glaring down at Minho. "Maybe if you didn't hog the ball all the time, people wouldn't have to knock you over to get it."

Minho shot up, his chest heaving with anger. "You're just mad because you're not good enough to beat me. Same as always."

Jisung's eyes flashed with fury. "I'm not the one who's obsessed with beating you at everything. Maybe you should look in the mirror."

That did it.

Before either of them could think, Minho's fist connected with Jisung's chest, sending the other boy stumbling backward. Jisung regained his balance quickly, his face twisted in anger. Without hesitation, he lunged at Minho, shoving him hard.

"You wanna fight?" Jisung snapped, his voice low and dangerous. "Fine. Let's fight."

The words were barely out of his mouth before Minho swung at him again. This time, Jisung blocked the punch, grabbing Minho's wrist and shoving him back with force. The other students had started to gather around, but Minho couldn't hear them—couldn't hear anything except the pounding of his heart and the rush of blood in his ears.

They collided again, this time both of them throwing punches. It wasn't clean. It wasn't controlled. It was messy, fueled by weeks—months—of unresolved tension and unspoken feelings. Minho's fists connected with Jisung's jaw, while Jisung's knee caught Minho's ribs. They hit the ground together, rolling through the dirt and grass, each trying to get the upper hand.

Jisung grabbed Minho's collar, yanking him close, their faces inches apart. "You think this is about beating you?" Jisung growled, his breath ragged. "You think I care that much about winning?"

Minho's vision blurred with anger. "What else would it be about?"

Jisung didn't answer immediately. Instead, he shoved Minho again, sending him sprawling onto his back. For a second, Jisung just stood there, breathing heavily, his fists still clenched.

Then he spoke, his voice raw and filled with something Minho couldn't quite identify.

"I hate you," Jisung muttered, the words laced with frustration. But there was something else in his tone—something almost vulnerable. "You make me feel things I don't want to feel, and I can't stand it."

Minho froze, his heart pounding in his chest. The fight wasn't just about the rivalry anymore. It was about everything that had been building between them for so long, everything they refused to acknowledge.

For a second, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, Jisung straightened up, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. Minho lay on the ground, panting, his chest tight as Jisung's words hung in the air.

"You... what?" Minho managed to choke out, confusion and disbelief flooding his mind.

Jisung didn't answer. Instead, he turned on his heel and stormed off, leaving Minho lying in the dirt, staring up at the sky as the weight of Jisung's words settled over him.

He didn't just hate Minho. He hated how much he couldn't stop thinking about him. How much he cared.

And for the first time, Minho wondered if maybe—just maybe—he felt the same way.

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To be continued...