Taehyung's POV

The station looked different after the last train left.

A few minutes ago, there were people here—voices, footsteps, even the soft ding of announcements.

Now it was just… empty.

The wind blew dust across the empty platform.

The yellow bulbs above flickered like they were afraid to be alive.

Behind the station, there was nothing—no houses, no stores, no sound.

Just silence.

I stood there with my luggage handle in one hand, staring at the track that had swallowed my train.

“Great,” I muttered. “Missed it. Again.”

I was supposed to go back to my village after years abroad.

I’d imagined the moment so many times—my mom’s tears, my grandmother’s hugs, my cousins yelling that I got taller.

But now I was alone in a dark station that didn’t even look modern.

The paint on the benches looked peeled.

The signboard that should’ve read the station name had half its letters missing.

It felt wrong.

I turned to walk out—maybe I could find a staff office, call someone for help.

But then, behind me, I heard it.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

The slow approach of a train.

My heart jumped.

I spun around so fast I almost tripped over my bag.

Headlights glowed white through the fog.

A train stopped at the platform with a rusty screech that hurt my ears.

I let out a breath of relief… then froze.

This train—

I’d seen one like it before. Long ago. When I was a kid.

Same color. Same old design.

Same front logo that had been removed years ago.

But how was it here?

This line had been modern for a decade.

My gut twisted.

“This is weird,” I whispered. “Really weird.”

But standing alone on an abandoned station felt worse.

So I forced myself to breathe, picked up my bag, and stepped inside.

The door slid shut behind me with a soft, slow hiss.

Inside the train

The interior was old too—like the trains in old photos.

Metal seats.

Dim yellow lights.

Floor slightly dusty like no one had cleaned it in years.

I was the only one inside.

Or… I thought I was.

I put my bag on the seat next to me and sat down, hugging myself for warmth.

The train started moving, but the sound wasn’t smooth like modern trains—it rattled, groaned, and clicked like bones shifting in the dark.

Something felt off.

Like the air was heavier.

Like I wasn’t supposed to be here.

Halfway through the journey, a light above my seat flickered twice.

I looked up.

“Probably old wiring,” I whispered, trying to calm myself.

But then—

I felt it.

A presence.

Soft. Close.

Like someone was sitting behind me and breathing lightly against my neck.

I swallowed. My throat felt tight.

I didn’t want to look.

My whole body screamed don’t.

But the fear crawled up my spine, and I couldn’t stop myself.

I turned around—

And screamed.

There was a man standing inches away from me.

He stepped back immediately, his hands up.

“Whoa—sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!”

I pressed a hand to my chest. “Don’t—don’t do that! You almost killed me!”

He gave a sheepish smile.

He looked about my age—maybe a bit younger.

Black hoodie. Dark hair falling over his eyes.

His face soft, almost too beautiful to be real.

“I’m Jungkook,” he said. “I didn’t see anyone else here, so… I just walked around. Didn’t think I’d bump into someone.”

I blinked.

“When did you get in? I checked. The train was empty.”

A small pause.

Then a calm reply:

“Oh. You just… didn’t see me.”

I tried to laugh it off, but something cold spread through my chest.

Still, he didn’t act creepy.

He sat across from me, arms on his knees, gentle smile on his face.

“So, where are you going?” he asked.

“Village,” I said. “Haven’t been home in years.”

His smile softened. “That’s nice. Going home is always… special.”

His voice was warm.

Comforting.

But something about him bothered me.

Maybe it was the way he kept watching me when he thought I wasn’t looking.

Maybe it was how his eyes didn’t match his smile.

Maybe it was how his shadow on the opposite wall seemed slightly… off.

But I tried to ignore it.

We talked about simple things—weather, travel, how late it was.

He asked if I was tired.

He asked if I often travelled alone.

His questions were too calm. Too careful.

After a while, I leaned back, trying to relax.

The train rattled.

The lights buzzed.

And Jungkook…

Jungkook just watched me with that soft smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

My head felt heavy.

Something wasn’t right.

The last stop

The train slowed down.

The old brakes screamed.

I grabbed my bag and stood up.

“Looks like it’s your stop,” Jungkook said.

He stood too, but didn’t move toward the door.

I turned to face him.

“Goodbye,” I said.

That smile again.

A little wider this time.

A little wrong.

A smile that felt like it would follow someone for years.

Like a face in a nightmare that you don’t remember fully—but feel.

When I stepped off, I felt his eyes on my back.

I didn’t look.

I didn’t breathe until both my feet were on the platform.

The doors hissed shut.

The train started moving.

I turned around to give a small wave—

And froze.

There was no train.

The tracks behind me were empty.

Not a sound.

Not a single light.

Just fog.

Just darkness.

Just nothing.

My legs shook.

My bag slipped from my hands.

“What…?” I whispered.

My breath fogged the air.

The station around me wasn’t even the one I knew.

It looked older.

Colder.

Like it had been abandoned for years.

My phone had no signal.

No time.

Just a black screen.

From somewhere behind me—

far inside the fog—

I heard a soft voice.

Almost like a whisper.

“Taehyung.”

I whipped around.

Nothing.

Fog.

Silence.

But I knew that voice.

It was Jungkook—

soft, gentle, almost smiling.

My blood turned cold.

Jungkook's POV

Taehyung stood alone in the fog, hugging himself, shaking.

He hadn’t seen me step off the train behind him.

He couldn’t.

Not yet.

I watched him quietly.

He still thought he had missed his last train.

He still believed this was just a strange night.

He still thought I was just another traveler.

He didn’t remember me.

Not fully.

But he would.

When the fog thinned, I smiled—

that same smile he tried so hard to forget.

“Hello again,” I whispered.

The wind swallowed my voice.

And Taehyung turned slowly, eyes wide, breath trembling—

as the fog closed around us.

Jungkook's POV—

He looked so small standing there.

So lost.

Taehyung wrapped his arms around himself like the cold could protect him from what he didn’t understand.

Fog curled around his ankles, slow and patient, like it had been waiting for him.

He still didn’t know.

That was the painful part.

I stepped closer, careful not to make a sound. The platform beneath my feet didn’t creak the way it should. It never did for me.

Not anymore.

“Taehyung,” I called softly again.

This time, he heard it clearly.

He spun around, eyes wide and terrified.

“Who’s there?” he shouted into the mist.

“Jungkook? Is that you?"

I didn’t answer right away.

I just watched him search for me, turning in circles, panic rising in his chest.

Humans were always like this—brave until the world stopped making sense.

Taehyung's POV—

My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.

“I know you’re there!” I yelled, trying to sound braver than I felt. “Stop messing with me!”

Nothing.

Just fog and silence.

My hands were shaking. My phone was still dead, no matter how many times I pressed the power button.

This couldn’t be real.

Trains don’t just disappear. Stations don’t change. And people don’t vanish into thin air.

Right?

“Okay,” I whispered to myself. “Okay, calm down. There has to be an explanation.”

Maybe I fell asleep. Maybe I hit my head. Maybe this was all some weird dream.

But dreams didn’t feel this cold.

Footsteps echoed behind me.

Slow.

Calm.

I froze.

Then—

“Taehyung.”

Right behind me.

I turned so fast my neck hurt.

Jungkook stood there.

Exactly like before—black hoodie, gentle face, unreadable eyes.

Except now he wasn’t smiling.

“How did you—?” My voice cracked. “Where did you come from?”

He tilted his head slightly.

“You shouldn’t have gotten on that train,” he said quietly.

A chill ran through me.

“What… what are you talking about?”

He took a step closer.

“This station isn’t for people like you.”

Jungkook's POV—

He was starting to understand.

Not completely.

But enough.

Good.

“It wasn’t your train,” I continued. “You weren’t supposed to board it.”

Taehyung shook his head, backing away.

“That doesn’t make any sense. I missed the last train. Then yours came. I just got on like a normal person.”

I almost laughed at that.

Normal.

There was nothing normal about tonight.

“Taehyung,” I said gently, “what was the name of the station you boarded from?”

He opened his mouth—then paused.

“I… I don’t remember.”

“Exactly.”

His face went pale.

“I-I was tired,” he stammered. “Jet lagged. I probably just didn’t notice.”

“Then tell me this,” I said, stepping closer. “Did you see a single other passenger?”

He swallowed.

“No.”

“Did you see a conductor?”

“…No.”

“Did your ticket get checked?”

Silence.

The fog thickened around us.

...----------------...

—To be continued!