Start A War
2014, Trainee days
Lisa wasn’t the type to pick fights. She was friendly, easygoing—the kind of girl who laughed at bad jokes and avoided unnecessary drama.
Most of the time.
She had never been good at confrontations. If someone took her spot in the practice room, she just found another. If a trainer was harsh, she swallowed the criticism and worked harder. She kept her head down, focused on her dream, and let the little things slide.
But not when it came to Jennie.
Jennie, who carried the weight of expectations like it was second nature. Jennie, who pushed herself until exhaustion, who rarely let herself show when she was struggling. Jennie, who Lisa watched more than she should—memorizing the way she scrunched her nose when she was thinking, the way she bit her lip when she was focused, the way she never let anyone see how tired she really was.
Lisa never said a word about how she felt. She never admitted—even to herself—that her heart beat too fast whenever Jennie smiled at her, or that she found herself looking for Jennie in every crowded room. It wasn’t something she was allowed to think about.
But hearing people tear Jennie down?
That was something Lisa could not ignore.
She was sprawled across the staircase, arms behind her head, catching her breath after an exhausting practice session, when she heard them.
“She thinks she’s better than everyone just because she studied abroad.”
Lisa’s eyes snapped open.
“She’s always getting special treatment,” another voice added. “I mean, yeah, she’s good, but not that good.”
Lisa sat up slowly, her pulse suddenly thrumming in her ears. Her hands, which had been lazily resting on her stomach, curled into fists before she forced them to relax.
They were talking about Jennie. Her Jennie—not that she’d ever say that out loud.
Her body moved before her mind could catch up. She stood, stretching her arms as if shaking off the last remnants of fatigue, before turning the corner.
“You’re talking about Jennie?” she asked, voice smooth, deceptively light.
The two girls flinched, eyes widening.
Lisa smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Go on,” she said. “I’d love to hear more.”
One of them shifted uncomfortably. “We were just—”
“Joking?” Lisa finished for them, tilting her head. “That’s funny, because I don’t remember laughing.”
Silence.
Lisa took a slow step closer. She wasn’t the tallest, but the way she carried herself in that moment made her seem larger. “Jennie doesn’t get special treatment,” she said, her voice softer now—but somehow more dangerous. “She just works harder than you.”
The two girls looked like they wanted to disappear.
Lisa exhaled sharply through her nose, shaking her head. “Next time you have something to say,” she added, “say it to her face.”
She turned on her heel and walked away, her heart still pounding in her chest.
Lisa hated conflict. She really did.
But for Jennie?
She’d go to war every single time.
~~~
2016
Jennie had never been the type to cause a scene.
She was used to keeping her composure, smiling through awkward moments, and maintaining the perfect image expected of her. She wasn’t loud like Jisoo, playful like Chaeyoung, or effortlessly charming like Lisa.
Lisa.
Jennie snuck a glance at the younger girl beside her, who was busy adjusting her headset. Lisa was always so full of energy, so eager to please. Jennie had never met anyone as kind, as effortlessly bright, and it was getting harder to pretend she didn’t feel something whenever Lisa was near.
But she buried it. Because she had to.
This was Korea.
A place where feelings like hers weren’t allowed.
The interview was going well—until it wasn’t.
The commotion started near the back of the room.
“You have got to be kidding me,” a voice muttered, loud enough to carry over the sound system.
Jennie turned her head just in time to see a photographer grumbling, shaking his camera in frustration. His colleague nudged him, whispering something, but the man wasn’t interested in being subtle.
“Every single shot!” he hissed. “All ruined. Because of her.”
Her?
Jennie frowned, following the man’s glare—only to realize he was looking directly at Lisa.
Something cold coiled in her chest.
“She needs to move next time,” the photographer continued, his voice dripping with irritation. “No one cares about some random rookie. They want Jennie, but this girl keeps blocking her like some clueless little—”
Jennie was already standing before he could finish.
“Excuse me?”
The room went silent.
Lisa’s eyes widened. “Unnie—”
But Jennie wasn’t listening. Her blood was boiling, her heart pounding.
The photographer blinked, seemingly caught off guard. “I—I was just saying—”
“Oh, I heard you,” Jennie interrupted, her voice sharp. “And now you’re going to hear me.”
The tension in the room was suffocating. Even Jisoo and Chaeyoung had stopped breathing.
Jennie crossed her arms, fixing the man with a glare. “Lisa isn’t ‘some random rookie.’ She’s my member. My teammate. The best dancer in the industry, and the kindest person I know.”
Lisa’s lips parted slightly, stunned.
“She doesn’t need to ‘move aside’ for anyone,” Jennie continued, stepping forward. “Maybe if you were actually good at your job, you’d know how to take a decent picture without whining like a child.”
Gasps rippled through the staff. The photographer’s face turned red.
“J-Jennie-ssi, I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did,” Jennie snapped. “And you should be grateful Lisa’s too nice to say anything. But I’m not.”
The room felt like it was on the verge of collapse.
Jennie huffed, turning to Lisa—and that was when the words slipped out before she could stop them.
“You think no one cares about her?” she scoffed. “Well, I do. I care a lot.”
Silence.
Jennie froze.
Lisa froze.
Jisoo’s mouth fell open.
Chaeyoung’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline.
The photographer took a cautious step back, as if realizing he was no longer the most pressing issue in the room.
Jennie felt heat crawl up her neck. She had said too much.
Lisa’s gaze softened. “Unnie…”
Jennie cleared her throat, scrambling to recover. “W-Whatever,” she muttered, crossing her arms again. “Just—just don’t talk about her like that again.”
The staff mumbled their agreements, quickly ushering the photographer away.
Jennie sighed, her anger finally ebbing away—only to realize Lisa was still staring at her.
With a look Jennie wasn’t ready to face.
Jennie swallowed. What have I done?
Lisa was still staring at her.
Jennie refused to meet her gaze. She could already feel the heat spreading from her chest to her ears, the weight of her own words crashing down on her.
She had just admitted—no, blurted out—something she had been trying to bury for months.
I care a lot.
The words rang in her head like a siren, and judging by the way Jisoo and Chaeyoung were exchanging looks behind Lisa’s back, she wasn’t the only one who caught their meaning.
Lisa finally spoke, voice softer than usual. “Jennie-unnie…”
Jennie snapped out of it. “Let’s go.”
She turned sharply, walking toward their waiting room, knowing Lisa would follow. She could feel Lisa’s presence close behind her, silent but there, and somehow that only made the heat in her face worse.
The second they were inside the room, the door clicked shut, and Jennie felt Lisa hesitate before finally speaking.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Lisa murmured.
Jennie whirled around. “Yes, I did.”
Lisa blinked, startled by Jennie’s sudden intensity.
“Do you think I was just going to sit there and let them talk about you like that?” Jennie demanded. “Like you don’t matter? Like you’re not—”
She stopped herself before she said something else damning.
Lisa bit her lip. “I mean… it happens,” she admitted. “I know I’m not as—”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
Lisa’s eyes widened.
Jennie inhaled deeply, forcing herself to calm down. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to find the right words. “Lisa,” she said quietly, “you’re… you’re you. Do you have any idea how—how amazing that is?”
Lisa frowned slightly. “What?”
Jennie groaned, pacing. “You’re the most talented person I know. You walk into a room, and people look at you. You don’t even have to try. You dance like you were born to do it. You make people happy just by being there. You’re just—”
She stopped.
Lisa was looking at her like she had never seen her before.
Jennie suddenly realized how insanely obvious she was being.
She turned away, grabbing a water bottle from the table just to have something to do with her hands. “I just don’t like it when people talk crap about you,” she muttered.
Silence stretched between them.
Then, quietly—almost hesitantly—Lisa asked, “Did you mean what you said?”
Jennie’s grip on the bottle tightened. “About what?”
Lisa took a step closer.
“That you care,” she said.
Jennie’s stomach did a very unhelpful flip.
She could lie. She should lie.
But when she looked at Lisa—eyes soft, hopeful, waiting—she knew she couldn’t.
Jennie exhaled. “Of course, I do,” she admitted. “You’re my teammate, Lisa. You’re my friend.”
Lisa’s lips parted slightly, like she hadn’t expected Jennie to actually say it.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Lisa smiled—small, sweet, a little bit shy.
Jennie’s heart skipped a beat.
Jisoo and Chaeyoung suddenly burst into the room.
“Okay, what was that?!” Jisoo demanded, eyes gleaming. “Jennie Kim starting a war over Lisa? In public?”
Chaeyoung grinned. “And saying she cares? Oh my God.”
Jennie groaned, covering her face. “Shutupyoutwo!”
Lisa just laughed—bright, warm, beautiful.
And Jennie thought… maybe starting a war wasn’t so bad after all.
~~~
2025, April
Lisa sighed as she stepped into her LA house, tossing her duffel bag to the side. The exhaustion from rehearsals clung to her, muscles aching from hours of dancing, but none of it compared to the dull ache in her chest.
She missed Jennie.
They had both been ridiculously busy with their separate Coachella sets, barely seeing each other except in passing. It wasn’t unusual for them to spend time apart during heavy schedules, but this felt different—like a gap that couldn’t be filled with a simple text or a stolen moment backstage.
Lisa peeled off her hoodie, the familiar scent of Jennie’s perfume clinging faintly to the fabric. She hesitated before burying her face in it for just a second, inhaling deeply. Pathetic, she thought, shaking her head with a small, self-deprecating smile.
Collapsing onto her couch, she grabbed her phone, instinctively opening Twitter. She had been avoiding it for the most part—fans were always speculating about everything, and she didn’t have the energy to deal with it. But tonight, she scrolled absentmindedly, letting the sea of tweets wash over her.
Then she saw it.
#JenLisaFight trending worldwide.
Lisa frowned, her thumb hovering over a thread. She clicked.
They aren’t even talking anymore. That’s why they have separate performances. Jennie didn’t even like Lisa’s teaser post. That says EVERYTHING. Lisa’s thriving solo, and Jennie is distancing herself. Something happened.
Lisa groaned, throwing her head back against the cushions. Seriously?
If only these people knew. Knew how Jennie still called her late at night, voice sleepy and soft, asking if she had eaten. How Jennie’s name was the first thing Lisa whispered every morning before dragging herself out of bed. How Jennie had texted her exactly ten minutes ago complaining about the cold and demanding Lisa come over to warm her up.
Lisa exhaled sharply, irritation bubbling in her chest. She didn’t care what they said about her, but dragging Jennie into this? Making it seem like Jennie wasn’t supportive, that she didn’t care? That was unforgivable.
And Lisa wasn’t about to let it slide.
But she also wasn’t about to make things obvious.
Switching accounts, she logged into one of her anonymous Twitter profiles—one only a select few knew about. She cracked her knuckles and started typing.
@obsessedwithJennie: Funny how y’all think they fought when Jennie literally called Lisa last night just to remind her to drink water. Maybe touch some grass instead?
She smirked as she hit send, but her fingers twitched, itching to do more damage.
@obsessedwithJennie: “Jennie doesn’t support Lisa” y’all must be blind bc that girl has been staring at Lisa like she hung the moon since 2016. Next.
Lisa giggled to herself. That should stir things up. She barely had time to put her phone down before it vibrated aggressively.
She grinned before even looking at the screen.
Jennie: Baby. What did you do.
Lisa chewed on her bottom lip, debating her response. Finally, she went with:
Lisa: Me? Nothing. Just appreciating my favorite person in the world.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Jennie: Did you just cause Twitter mayhem again??
Lisa stretched out on the couch, smug.
Lisa: Define mayhem.
Jennie sent a picture. It was a screenshot of her own group chat with Jisoo and Chaeyoung.
Jisoo: Lisa is behind @obsessedwithJennie. I know it. I FEEL IT.
Chaeyoung: This is why I have trust issues.
Jisoo: Lisa if you see this, I’m throwing my slipper at you next time I see you.
Lisa cackled, clutching her stomach. A second later, her phone rang.
“Baby,” Lisa answered sweetly.
“Lisa,” Jennie deadpanned. “You are so obvious.”
Lisa hummed, completely unapologetic. “And yet, here you are, calling me instead of being mad.”
Jennie sighed dramatically. “Because I know your heart is in the right place. But you are a menace.”
Lisa grinned, softening. “I just hate when they talk about you like that. I don’t care what they say about me, but you? I’ll start a war, Nini.”
Jennie was quiet for a moment before she whispered, “I know.”
Lisa swallowed, her voice dropping. “You always have me, okay? No matter what they say.”
Jennie exhaled, and Lisa could practically hear her smile. “You always know what to say.”
Lisa chuckled. “It’s because I’m obsessed with you.”
Jennie laughed, and Lisa closed her eyes, savoring the sound. “I hate that you’re so sweet sometimes.”
“Yeah?” Lisa teased. “Then come over and punish me.
A pause. Then Jennie, in that slow sexy rasped lower voice teased: “You want me to?”
Lisa’s brain short-circuited. “Wait—”
Jennie giggled. “Goodnight, baby.”
And just like that, the call ended.
Lisa stared at her phone for a moment before collapsing into her pillow with a groan.
A second later, another text came in.
Jennie: BTW, you left your hoodie at my place. Looks like it’s mine now. Love you.
Lisa sat up. Lisa: Wait, that was my FAVORITE ONE.
Jennie: Mine now. Suffer.
Lisa groaned again, flopping onto the couch.
Oh yeah. She was down bad.
Just as Lisa was about to doze off, another text popped up.
Jennie: If you miss your hoodie so much… come and get it.
Lisa’s heart flipped. She stared at the message, debating. She was tired. She had a full schedule tomorrow. But Jennie was right there.
Lisa: Are you serious?
Jennie: Do I ever joke about stealing your hoodies?
Lisa grinned, already grabbing her keys.
Fifteen minutes later, Lisa was standing outside Jennie’s door. Before she could knock, it swung open, revealing Jennie in her hoodie, drowning in its size, looking warm and soft and unfairly cute.
Lisa exhaled. “Yeah. I’m in trouble.”
Jennie smirked. “Took you long enough.”
Lisa stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Jennie, inhaling her scent. “I missed you.”
Jennie melted into her, whispering, “I missed you more.”
Lisa pulled back slightly, her eyes glinting. “So… can I have my hoodie back?”
Jennie smiled sweetly before tugging the hoodie’s hood over her head. “Nope.”
Lisa groaned. “Unbelievable.”
Jennie giggled, pulling Lisa inside. “Come cuddle me and maybe I’ll think about it.”
Lisa laughed, letting Jennie pull her to the couch. Yeah, she was so down bad.
~~~
A.N.
Well would you look at that—a full-blown series. Who could’ve seen this coming? Oh right, definitely not me, because when I said "I won’t make this a full-blown fanfic," what I actually meant was, "Watch me do exactly that and then some..." 😅
~M