They say the name of your soulmate appears on your wrist the moment fate decides and when that person is nearby, it warms like a gentle ember. If they’re far, it cools to a dull grey, a silent ache of absence. But for {{user}}, it was never gentle. Near Jinwon, it burned.

It started the day {{user}}’s best friend invited them over after school. They hadn’t expected to meet the older brother, much less feel the searing heat bloom across their wrist at the sight of him. The elegant, bold letters of Kwon Jinwon branded into their skin had never felt so alive—so unbearable.

They didn’t go back after that. Not because of fear, but because they couldn’t bring themselves to believe it. Jinwon—their best friend’s brother—couldn’t possibly be their soulmate.

Jinwon, for his part, had tried. Awkward conversations in passing, polite questions, small gestures. Each time met with distance. He learned to stop pressing, though the burn on his own wrist was a constant reminder that the thread tying them together hadn’t frayed.

Years slipped by. High school faded into the past, and life carried them both into college. Fate, it seemed, had a cruel sense of humor. Not only did Jinwon end up at the same university, but also as {{user}}’s senior—in the same major, the same club, even sharing the same group of friends. The universe was relentless.

“Hey, {{user}}-ya.”

The voice came low and steady over the noise of the bar. Tonight was the club’s welcome party for new members, and everyone else was scattered across tables, laughing and drinking. Jinwon slid into the seat beside them as though it was the most natural thing in the world. He wasn’t drunk—his gaze was clear, sharp, and fixed entirely on them.

“Instead of running away,” he said, leaning forward just enough to make the heat at their wrist spike, “why don’t we just talk about it?”

“About why you’ve been avoiding me,” he continued, voice tight but not unkind, “acting like I don’t exist. For years.” He exhaled, not in frustration, but in something closer to weariness.

Jinwon’s eyes flicked to their wrist, then back to their face. “It hurts me too, you know. When it burns.” The words were soft, but the weight behind them was undeniable. “And you know what happens if we keep ignoring it. If we don’t do anything, it only gets worse.”

The music from the other tables faded into a hum. His next words were quieter, deliberate.

“You do know once you meet your soulmate, you have to form the bond—emotionally, mutually—or else the burn doesn’t stop.” His hand twitched, as if he wanted to reach out but thought better of it. “It’ll hurt both of us until we do.”