Jimin grew up with a strange interest on Joseon Dynasty. It began when he was a little child, and his mother would occasionally narrate stories about kingdoms, royalties, and mythical creatures to him until he fell asleep. When he was thirteen, he discovered Joseon Era by chance. He found himself reading about Joseon Dynasty and eventually developed some sort of fascination to their culture and tradition, language and literacy, the positions in their government, and precisely everything about the said era.

                                                                                                    

  Jimin was an exceptional child. He could remember the exact words just by glancing at it once. It wasn’t really difficult to study about the dynasty since it also gave him satisfaction.

 

  At most nights, he found himself dreaming snippets of events that had happened in the Joseon Era. That wasn’t weird since he would research something almost every single day.

 

  If he could make a fandom, he probably did. But there will be few people who would be as passionate as him.

 

  He didn’t push it.

 

…

 

  Jimin went on with his life. It was pretty normal. He had friends, his grades were exemplary, and he had a decent amount of admirers in their school considering his good looks.

 

  But for him, it was awfully boring and dull. He would wake up, cook for himself, and go to school after he was all set. After classes, he would head home and cook something again for his family.

 

  Finally, it’s summer break. Finally, no love letters and chocolates from girls. Finally, no one would bother him anymore. As much as he would like to convince himself to actually read those letters, they would still remain untouched under his desk.

 

  When he was about to open his laptop, his mom called from the kitchen. “Sweetie, come here for a sec.”

 

  Jimin groaned. Reluctantly, he placed his laptop aside and put on his slippers before heading downstairs and into the kitchen. “What?”

 

  Mrs. Park ignored her son’s grumpiness. “I have news for you.”

 

  “Good or bad?” Jimin scratched the back of his neck, a habit when he was thinking about something. He stared at the sweets in the jar and took one, munching on a chocolate cookie.

 

  His mother coughed, earning Jimin’s attention. “It depends on how you take it,” she cracked the egg and put the contents on the pan. “You are staying on your grandmother’s place this summer.”

 

  Jimin chocked violently, blinking his eyes as if to confirm what his mother had just said. “Are you serious?!”

 

  Mrs. Park nodded, too cheerful for Jimin’s liking. She seemed glad to be able to get rid of her son momentarily. “It’s a wonderful place, sweetie. The weather is warm and the sceneries are relaxing. Your grandma will take good care of you there. Have I mentioned that she’s the best cook ever? I swear you’ll have lots of fun.”

 

  “But I planned to study the whole summer in my room.” Jimin didn’t really lie. He was going to seek new articles about the Joseon Dynasty.

 

  His mom pouted and crossed her arms. “No can do! Not that Joseon stuff again— I swear you’re having an unhealthy obsession to that thing.” She paused for a while and took a deep breath. “This is also why I wanted you to go to Gyeongsangnam-do.”

 

  “Mom, you couldn’t possibly do this to your own son—“

 

  She placed her hand on her hips. “Whether you like it or not, you are going. I’m prohibiting you to bring your books, phone and laptop.”

 

  Jimin swore he did no grave sin to deserve any of these. He wanted to bang his head on the wall, hoping that this was just a crazy nightmare.

 

…

 

  Jimin didn’t know how he got here. Or he couldn’t just get over the fact that he was indeed in front of his grandmother’s place with his luggage lying helplessly on the dusty ground. He sighed and massaged his forehead, tired from all the travelling he had gone through. At least he had sleep on the bus. But it’s different without something to interest you.

 

  He sighed again, imagining what he could be doing right now if his mom didn’t force him to go to his grandma’s province. Probably read about the Analects of Confucius. Or A Guide To Make Your Summer Worthwhile. Whatever.

 

  His grandmother’s house was rather simple, but he liked it. He loved this place because it seemed… historical. The houses around the area were almost identical judging by their structure and appearance, but Jimin felt something odd and strange when he stepped inside the boundary of his grandmother’s home.

 

  “Grandma!” He called, dragging the luggage with him. “I’m here.”

 

  Soon enough, an old lady with hair tied in a neat bun opened the door and offered Jimin a warm and welcoming smile. “Come inside, my dear. I prepared mooncakes for you.”

 

  He smiled by the mention of food, patting his stomach. “Ohh, I didn’t realize I’m hungry until now.”

 

  “I made these for you, Jiminnie. It’s a welcome treat!” his grandmother took out the mooncakes and handed them to Jimin. It was when Jimin started munching on the treat when he noticed the dragon hairpin besides an intricate miniature vase.

 

  “Grandma, where did you get that?” He pointed at the dragon hairpin with his finger, curious of what history it held. His grandma chuckled and pinched his cheeks. “You have something on your face, dear.”

 

  Jimin sensed that his grandma was avoiding the question. He decided not to push it. It must be something personal that she couldn't answer him.

 

…

 

  “Goodnight, Jiminnie! Rest well and have a good and nice dream.” His grandma uttered before pulling the covers up to his body and kissing his forehead. She slowly slid the door close.

 

  Jimin fluttered his eyes shut.

 

…

 

  He swore he was sleeping. But how did he get into the living room? Jimin was about to go back to his room when he spotted something. It was the dragon hairpin, glowing on the dark with its beauty. Jimin couldn’t help but to drew closer. He was inches away from touching it. Just one step and he would be able to take hold of the object.

 

  He grabbed the hairpin, and everything turned into black. He couldn’t see anything but an empty void of darkness surrounding him.

 

  “Jimin!”