Reki was in his workshop, leaning against his work table as he looked at the Red thread tied to his pinky

He had tried everything, cutting it, burning it, destroying it, but this thread remained intact on his finger.

He let out a defeated sigh, letting his head fall back against the table, his thread still intact after 17 years he was beginning to wonder if that story was true or if it was just there as a simple annoying ornament that only reminded him of his loneliness