WINRINA ONESHOTS

RIVAL HEARTS

Jimin and Minjeong were known as the fiercest rivals at their high school, always at each other’s throats. Jimin, the poised, confident, and slightly intimidating class president, seemed to have it all together. Minjeong, on the other hand, was sharp-tongued, rebellious, and refused to bow to anyone, especially not someone like Jimin. Their battles weren’t just verbal; sometimes it was a glare across the classroom, other times a sarcastic comment that could cut through the air like a knife. To everyone else, it was clear: these two hated each other.

It all began in their first year when Jimin corrected Minjeong in class about a math problem.

“Actually, it’s not x equals four; you missed an important step,” Jimin said with a smirk, loud enough for the entire room to hear.

Minjeong's eyes narrowed, her fingers gripping her pencil tighter than necessary. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? Always acting like you’re above everyone else.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if people knew how to do basic math,” Jimin shot back, not missing a beat. The teacher intervened, but from that moment on, the animosity between them only grew.

In the hallways, their rivalry was legendary. They’d bump into each other on purpose, exchange cold, cutting remarks during group projects, and even sabotage one another’s presentations. They thrived on the tension, the challenge, the way their interactions were electric and filled with resentment.

But beneath the surface, something else was simmering—something both of them refused to acknowledge at first.

It was after one of their most heated fights that things changed. It was late, after school hours, and the two had stayed behind to finish a project they had reluctantly been paired up for. They hadn’t spoken for nearly an hour, but the air between them was thick with unresolved tension.

“Maybe if you stopped being such a control freak for once, we’d actually finish this,” Minjeong muttered, slamming her notebook on the table.

Jimin crossed her arms, glaring. “Maybe if you took things seriously instead of trying to make a scene every time, we wouldn’t have to stay late.”

“I’m not making a scene,” Minjeong spat, standing up from her seat. “You’re just pissed because you can’t control me like everyone else. Newsflash, Jimin: I’m not scared of you.”

“Good,” Jimin snapped, rising to her feet as well, her voice sharp and dripping with venom. “Because I’m not scared of you either.”

For a moment, they just stared at each other, their breaths coming fast. And then something shifted. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but in the silence that followed, the fire in their eyes changed.

Jimin was the first to move, her hand gripping Minjeong’s wrist, pulling her closer. Suddenly, their lips crashed together with an intensity that matched every argument they’d ever had. Minjeong didn’t hesitate to respond, her hands tangling in Jimin’s hair, pulling her closer as if the only way to win was to get lost in the other.

It wasn’t gentle; it wasn’t soft. It was like all the anger they had toward each other had nowhere else to go but into this moment. There was a desperation in the way their lips moved, their bodies pressing against each other, each one refusing to give up control.

When they finally pulled away, gasping for breath, neither of them said a word. Minjeong’s eyes were still blazing, but there was something else there too—something darker, more complicated.

“What the hell was that?” Minjeong asked, her voice low and dangerous, though her body was still pressed up against Jimin's, her lips swollen from the kiss.