Threads That Bind Us Together.

The morning light was beaming through my curtains, but I barely noticed it. My mind was too preoccupied with the events of the previous day. Mirae's guarded expression, her cryptic words, and the haunting image of the bridge in the Fate Rewrite app—all of it was like a puzzle with pieces that refused to fit.

And then there was that message:

"Find me."

The voice from the app lingered in my mind, as if it was carved into my memory. Who was speaking? Why did they want me to find them?

Dragging myself out of bed, I prepared for another day at school, though my thoughts were far from my classes. Today, I needed answers.

---

By the time I arrived at school, the usual morning chaos was in full swing. Students hurried to their lockers, conversations filled the hallways, and someone shouted about a forgotten homework assignment.

Seulgi was waiting for me by my desk, already munching on a piece of bread she'd undoubtedly stolen from the cafeteria.

"Morning, Jiho!" she said brightly, crumbs flying everywhere.

"Do you ever chew with your mouth closed?" I grumbled, sliding into my seat.

"Rude." she shot back, but her grin didn't falter. "Anyway, did you think about what I said yesterday? About making your move on Mirae?"

I sighed, glancing at the empty seat beside me. Mirae hadn't arrived yet, and part of me was relieved.

"Seulgi, it's not that simple," I said, lowering my voice. "There's… more going on than I can explain."

"More going on?" Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. "What do you mean? Spill the tea."

I hesitated. Telling Seulgi about the dreams and the app felt risky. She was my best friend, but how could I explain something I barely understood myself?

Before I could respond, the classroom door slid open, and Mirae walked in.

The chatter around the room dimmed slightly as she made her way to her seat, her movements as graceful as ever. But there was something different today—her gaze seemed heavier, like she hadn't slept well. Well how could she? Even I had problems after that encounter.

She didn't acknowledge me as she sat down, her attention focused entirely on her notebook.

"Wow, she's got the whole ice queen thing down," Seulgi whispered.

I shot her a look. "Can you not?"

But Seulgi was undeterred. "Come on, Jiho. You're sitting right next to her. Just say something. Anything."

"Like what?"

"Use that brain of yours and figure it out."

---

The first half of the day crawled by, with me stealing glances at Mirae and her steadfastly ignoring my existence. Every time I thought about saying something, my nerves got the better of me.

Then, during the lunch break, my phone buzzed.

"Opportunity detected. Follow the thread."

I frowned, staring at the screen. The app's timing was uncanny, almost like it knew exactly what was happening around me.

Another arrow appeared, pointing toward the rooftop.

"What now?" I muttered under my breath.

"Hey, where are you going?" Seulgi asked as I stood up.

"Rooftop," I replied vaguely. "I need some air."

Her eyebrows furrowed, but she didn't press further.

---

The rooftop was quiet, as it usually was during lunch. Most students preferred the cafeteria or the courtyard, leaving this space almost entirely deserted.

But not today.

Mirae was there, standing near the edge and staring out at the horizon. The wind played with her hair, and for a moment, she looked almost ethereal—like the girl in my dreams.

I hesitated, unsure if I should approach her. But then the app buzzed again.

"Act now. Progress depends on it."

Taking a deep breath, I stepped onto the rooftop and called out softly, "Mirae."

She turned slowly, her expression unreadable.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice calm but distant.

"I could ask you the same thing," I replied, trying to keep my tone light. "It's not every day you see someone skipping lunch to stare at the sky."

She didn't respond, her gaze shifting back to the horizon.

I stepped closer, feeling the weight of the silence between us. "Are you okay?"

She glanced at me, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Why do you care?"

The question caught me off guard. I didn't have an answer—not one that would make sense, anyway.

"I just… do," I said lamely.

Her lips twitched, almost like she was suppressing a smile. "You're strange, Han Jiho."

"I get that a lot," I admitted, scratching the back of my neck.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The wind filled the silence, carrying with it the faint scent of rain.

Then, to my surprise, Mirae spoke again.

"Do you believe in fate?" she asked, her voice softer now.

The question threw me. "Fate?"

She nodded, her gaze distant. "Do you think our lives are guided by something bigger than us? Or do we just stumble through life, making choices and hoping for the best?"

I thought about the app, about the dreams, and about her. "I don't know," I said honestly. "But sometimes… it feels like things happen for a reason."

Her expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes. Recognition? Understanding?

"What about you?" I asked.

Mirae hesitated, her fingers tightening around the railing. "I think… fate can be cruel."

Her words sent a chill down my spine. Before I could ask what she meant, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

She turned away, her movements abrupt. "We should get back."

"Mirae, wait," I said, reaching out instinctively.

She paused but didn't look at me.

"I… I think we've met before," I said, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

She stiffened, her shoulders tense. "You're mistaken."

"But—"

"Let it go, Jiho," she said, her voice firm. Then she walked past me, leaving me alone on the rooftop.

---

That night, like a hopeless idiot, I stared at the app again.

"Progress: 20%."

I clicked on that damn annoying "Reveal Clue." Button and the bridge reappeared, clearer than ever. Mirae stood at the center this time, her face turned toward me.

"Promise me," the voice whispered, its tone filled with urgency.

The screen flickered, and a new message appeared:

"The thread tightens. Seek the next knot."

I set my phone down, my heart filled with questions.

What was the thread? And what was the truth Mirae seemed so desperate to hide?

One thing was clear; I couldn't stop now. And I don't think I will.