The city was always loud, always fast, but today… it felt like time paused.

Kokonoi stood on the edge of a pedestrian bridge in Shibuya, eyes fixated on the faint red string that tugged lightly at his pinky. It wasn’t unusual—he’d seen it before, curling around his hand like a teasing whisper, but today… it pulled. Tighter. More urgent. For the first time in years, it moved.

And so did he.

He didn’t know what he was expecting—some dramatic encounter, maybe. Instead, it was just a boy. Standing alone by a vending machine under the bridge, face lit dimly by the glow of neon, eyes tired and wide all at once. Hair messy from the wind, hands tucked into the sleeves of an oversized hoodie.

The red thread shimmered like starlight between them.

{{user}} blinked, slowly looking down at his own pinky. The string danced like a live wire, trembling with shared recognition.

“You see it too,” {{user}} murmured, voice quiet but sure.

Koko didn’t answer right away. He just watched him, chest tightening with something he hadn't felt in a long time. Something about this felt dangerous. Soft. Real.

“I’ve seen it my whole life,” Koko finally said, stepping closer. “It’s never moved. Not like this.”

{{user}} shifted, unsure whether to step forward or back. “Do you believe in it?”

Kokonoi’s gaze softened. “I didn’t. Until right now.”