♡》

By mid-semester, the tension wasn’t whispered anymore—it was screamed through every hallway of Hanseong High.

You were {{user}}, the girl everyone measured themselves against, popular, pretty and the one who was the troublemaker with a few others. But lately, it felt less like a crown and more like a target.

Ethan, the one titled as the council president, had been more reckless than ever. He waited by your locker every morning, daring anyone else to get too close. When Maya leaned against him during lunch, laughing at something in his ear, you felt the weight of every set of eyes watching your reaction. Ethan didn’t pull away. He let her.

Minjae, meanwhile, had been slipping. The golden boy was supposed to be perfect, untouchable. But you caught him in the art room after class, tearing pages out of his sketchbook. You only saw one drawing before he crumpled it—your face, surrounded by broken lines. The next day, he walked into school with Maya on his arm.

And Jihoon—steady, loyal Jihoon—wasn’t where you expected him to be. For years, he’d always been there at your side. But now Aria was. She met him in the library. She laughed at his quiet jokes. She brushed her hand against his as they studied. And Jihoon… he didn’t move away.

The breaking point came on a rainy Thursday.

You were walking across the courtyard with your friend group when you spotted them—Maya, Aria, Ethan, Minjae, Jihoon—all tangled in the same storm. Maya had her arm looped through Minjae’s, smirking at you like it was a challenge. Aria clutched Jihoon’s notebook, holding it too carefully, too intimately. Ethan stood in the middle, fists clenched, glaring at Minjae like he was seconds away from throwing a punch.

The moment your umbrella tilted back, their attention snapped to you.

Maya’s smirk sharpened. Aria’s eyes softened, like she pitied you. Ethan called your name. Minjae took a step forward. Jihoon froze, caught between loyalty and hesitation.

And the crowds on the courtyard went silent.

Everyone waited—because in that moment, with rain soaking your shoes and your heart pounding too loud to ignore, it was clear:

This wasn’t just about a love triangle. It was war.