The Silent Vows | VSOO (18+)

Smack!

The dull thud of my head hitting my desk shakes me awake. My eyes blink open, and I groan, rubbing my forehead. I must've dozed off—again. The exhaustion from working late, taking care of my grandma, and pretending to be a functioning student is catching up to me.

"Had you done your homework?"

I lift my gaze to meet Mrs. Min's expectant stare.

I shake my head. "No." My voice comes out flat. I didn't have time. Didn't have the energy. I'm barely keeping up as it is.

She exhales sharply, crossing her arms. "I hate to break it to ya, but you'll have to do it in detention then. Detention hours are from 8:30 p.m. to 9:30 p.m."

I stare at her blankly for a moment, then sigh. "Fine, Mrs. Min. I'll come by then. I won't be late." Not that I have a choice.

A loud thud interrupts our conversation, followed by an angry shout.

"Hey! Idiot, hand me back my lunch!"

The cafeteria hushes for a second before whispers fill the room. My eyes dart to the commotion, landing on her.

Jisoo Kim.

She stands in front of Jungkook—the last person you want to mess with—holding his lunch tray like it belongs to her. Her posture is stiff, defensive, but her expression is unreadable.

My feet start moving before I can think. Why am I walking toward her? I have no idea. Maybe it's curiosity. Maybe it's the fact that going up against Jungkook is basically social suicide.

I stop beside her, frowning. "Hey—!?"

Jungkook sneers, his face twisting in annoyance. He's already rubbing his jaw from a fresh bruise, meaning someone—probably Jisoo—got a good hit in.

Then, without another word, he turns on his heel and storms off. Probably heading to the nurse's office.

I glance at Jisoo. "Seriously?" I mutter, crossing my arms. "Of all people, you chose Jungkook?"

She exhales sharply, then shoves the tray toward me. "Here," she mutters. "You give it back if you care so much."

I blink, thrown off. "That's not how this works."

"Yeah, well," she huffs, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets, "I was hungry."

Something about the way she says it—clipped, guarded—makes my stomach twist. I glance at the untouched food, then back at her.

"You could've just asked for some," I say, my tone softer now. "People share food, you know."

She snorts, unimpressed. "People like me don't get handouts."

And just like that, she turns on her heel and storms off, leaving me standing there with Jungkook's stolen lunch and more questions than answers.

By the time detention rolls around, I'm slumped in my chair, barely keeping my eyes open. I hate this. The silence, the stale air, the dim classroom lights—it all makes me feel like a caged animal.

A chair scrapes against the floor beside me.

"You're in detention too?"

I glance sideways. Jisoo.

"You stole a guy's lunch, so I'm not surprised," I deadpan, turning back to my paper.

"Yeah, well, you didn't do your homework," she retorts. "Guess that makes us both troublemakers."

I roll my eyes. "Sure. That's totally the same thing."

For a moment, she doesn't say anything. Then, in a quieter voice, she murmurs, "Jungkook deserved it, you know."

That catches my attention. My head turns toward her fully. "What are you talking about?"

She exhales sharply, debating something in her head before leaning in slightly.

"He's not just a bully," she whispers. "He's worse."

A chill prickles at the back of my neck. My exhaustion fades instantly.

"What do you mean, worse?"

Jisoo hesitates. Her fingers tap against the desk, a nervous rhythm. Her eyes flick toward the door, like she's checking if someone's listening.

Then, just when I think she won't answer, she whispers:

"Jungkook acts like some schoolyard bully, right? But outside of school?" She pauses, voice tight. "He's into stuff, Taehyung. Dangerous stuff."

I blink. "Define 'dangerous.'"

Jisoo chews on the inside of her cheek before answering. "You ever wonder why no one fights back when he picks on them? Why some people—like that guy from the basketball team—suddenly transfer schools out of nowhere?"

I stiffen. The thought had crossed my mind before, but I never dwelled on it. People came and went. I figured maybe they just had their own problems.

Jisoo shakes her head. "Jungkook's family is—" she cuts herself off, glancing at the door again. She takes a breath before lowering her voice even more. "They're connected. Like, underground-type connected."

A chill creeps down my spine.

"You mean... mafia?" I half-joke, but the way her expression hardens makes my stomach twist.

"I mean exactly that," she says, tone deadly serious. "And if you cross him, things don't just stop at school fights."

My mind races. It sounds ridiculous—like something out of a crime drama—but the way Jisoo's fingers are clenched, her knuckles white, makes it feel too real.

Before I can respond, the classroom door creaks open.

Mrs. Min walks in, dropping a pile of papers on her desk with a thud. "Alright, troublemakers," she sighs, rubbing her temples. "Let's get this over with."

Jisoo immediately shuts up, eyes fixed on her desk. I follow her lead, but my mind is spinning.

Jungkook? Mafia connections?

And more importantly—why does Jisoo know all of this?

Detention drags on. Mrs. Min is too busy scrolling through her phone to pay attention, which means Jisoo and I sit in silence, both pretending we aren't hyperaware of each other's presence.

By the time the clock hits 9:30, she's out the door before I even stand up.

I grab my bag and hurry after her, catching up in the dimly lit hallway. "Hey."

She doesn't stop walking. "Forget I said anything."

"Not happening," I say, stepping in front of her path. "You can't just drop something like that and expect me to ignore it."

Jisoo exhales sharply through her nose, irritated. "Taehyung, listen to me." She leans in, her dark eyes locked onto mine. "You seem like a decent guy, so I'll give you some advice: Stay. Out. Of. It."

Her voice is sharper than before, urgent. But all that does is make me more curious.

"Why do you care if I stay out of it?" I ask. "What does Jungkook have on you?"

She flinches—so subtly that I almost miss it. But I don't.

I take a step closer. "Jisoo."

She looks away. "I owe him," she mutters under her breath. "Or rather... my family does."

A cold weight settles in my stomach.

I want to ask more, need to ask more—but something in her expression stops me.

There's a warning in her eyes.

A warning that pressing further right now would be a mistake.

Before I can say anything else, she shakes her head. "Just—stay out of it, okay?"

Then, without another word, she disappears down the hall, leaving me standing there, alone.

My heart pounds.

Jungkook isn't just some school bully.

And I have a feeling I'm about to find out exactly how deep this rabbit hole goes.