There was something wrong with this school.
Jimin felt it in the stares — too long, too sharp. In the rules — vague, silent threats buried in polished formality. In the way no one ran, no one laughed, no one breathed without checking who might be watching.
The students at Vermillion Academy weren't boys.They were wolves in silk ties.
And today, they were watching him.
First period. Literature Hall.
He took the seat in the second row — not front, not back, just enough to disappear. A hand-written syllabus sat neatly on each desk.
But before he could skim it, a door slammed.
All heads turned.
Yoongi walked in.
Black uniform coat draped off one shoulder. No bag. A silver ring on his index finger, twisting as he moved. His hair was messy in a way that had to be intentional, and his eyes — sharp, shadowed, unreadable — scanned the room like a king entering his court.
He walked past Jimin without looking.
Jimin didn't move.
Couldn't.
His fingers gripped the desk like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. Every step Yoongi took echoed like war drums inside his chest.
Then — Yoongi stopped.
Right beside him.
Their knees nearly touched.
He turned his head, slow as a storm building.
"You're in my seat."
The room held its breath.
Jimin looked up — mistake. Yoongi's gaze hit like lightning. Cold. Beautiful. Unforgiving. Like he was seeing something he recognized — and hated for it.
"I—I didn't know—"
"Now you do."
Jimin grabbed his things and slid into the seat behind, heart pounding like a damn war drum.
Yoongi sat without another word. But even from behind… he could feel him.
Heat rolled off him in waves. Controlled chaos, coiled violence. A storm wrapped in skin.
And when Yoongi reached to flick his pen, his sleeve slid down just enough for Jimin to see it — a tattoo inked across his inner wrist in curling black script:
Love is war.
Later. Cafeteria.
Jimin sat alone. Tray untouched. The walls buzzed with whispered gossip.
"He's the transfer, right?""He spoke to Min Yoongi?""He survived?"
That name — Min Yoongi — dropped like acid in every conversation.
Rumors swirled like smoke.
Fought a senior last year. Broke his nose.Only speaks when he wants to.Rumor says he once made a teacher cry.And if he looks at you for longer than five seconds?
Run.
Jimin didn't want trouble.
But he wanted the truth even less.
Because the truth was this: When Yoongi looked at him…
He didn't want to run.
He wanted to burn.