A Crack in Time

He woke to the feeling of someone poking his cheek.

Not gently.

Jungkook's eyes blinked open to the sight of a boy, maybe twelve, hovering over him with the world's most suspicious squint.

"He's breathing," the boy said. "But his face is weird. Like a drawing that forgot to finish."

"It's the nose," said someone else. "Too sculpted. And those earrings. Do you think he's a concubine?"

Jungkook groaned, rolled over, and immediately regretted it. Every joint ached. His back was damp. The ground smelled like rice water, clay, and wet grass. And beyond the thatched roofs of a tiny village, rising behind the green fog of morning, stood a palace wall. Not a reconstruction. Not a film set.

The real thing.

He sat up slowly.

The kids scattered.

An elderly woman, maybe the village healer, approached cautiously. "You're lucky we dragged you out of the paddy. Another minute and you'd have been goose food."

Jungkook blinked. "I got attacked by a goose."

"That's Kim Saem. She's very devout."

He squinted at her, then down at himself.

His clothes were gone. Or rather, replaced. Someone had changed him out of his soaked hoodie and sweats and into clean linen underlayers and an oddly plain hanbok. Pale blue, tied too tightly at the waist.

"Did... did someone undress me while I was unconscious?"

"You're welcome," said a voice from the house behind him.

He turned. A young man stepped out carrying a basket of laundry and a wicked grin. "You flail in your sleep. It was a team effort."

Jungkook stood quickly. "Where am I? What year is this?"

The man laughed. "Okay, you're definitely not from around here."

Jungkook ran a hand through his now-dry hair. His fingers shook.

The healer took pity on him. "You're near Gosan Fortress. It's planting season. And if the stars were right last night, it's the 6th Year of King Taejun's reign."

"King who?"

The healer raised a brow. "Taejun. Son of King Sunryeo. Crowned after the Year of Falling Birds."

Jungkook turned pale. None of those names registered. Not even from his high school history book.

"Oh my god," he whispered. "I time traveled. I actually time traveled."

The laundry guy nodded. "Ah. One of those. That explains the eyebrows."

"The what?"

"Too well-shaped. It's unnatural. Like a fox spirit trying to impress a noble."

Jungkook staggered.

The sky was too blue. The sounds too quiet. No cars. No electricity hum. Just the occasional chirp of a magpie and the faint rush of wind over the trees.

He looked back toward the palace. Toward the rising golden banners, and the glint of tiled rooftops.

He was not in Seoul.

He was not in 2025.

And worst of all, he had absolutely no idea how to get back.

-×-×-

From within the palace, under a canopy of painted silk, a court astrologer dropped his brush.

The ink smeared across the star map.

"It's cracked," he whispered.

Beside him, a royal advisor leaned in. "What is?"

"The gate. The thread. The sequence. The star-crossing is active again."

The advisor frowned. "Impossible. It hasn’t aligned in over four hundred years."

The astrologer looked up slowly.