OKAY. Ini AU soulmate red thread, aturan jelas, tone salting–serius, high school (18), unfinished ending yang nyantol di dada. Satu konsep aja.
In this world, nothing happens at birth.
No signs. No marks. No promises.
People grow up normal—laughing, failing exams, falling in love the wrong way—until the day they turn eighteen.
That’s when the red thread appears.
It doesn’t glow. It doesn’t sparkle. It simply exists—thin, red, unbreakable—tied to the little finger. Only visible to the two people bound by it. Once it appears, it never disappears.
Not until one of them dies.
Daichi Sawamura turned eighteen on a quiet morning.
Practice was scheduled for the afternoon, so he treated the day like any other. He ate breakfast, grabbed his bag, and headed to school early, keys jingling in his pocket. Captain duties didn’t pause for birthdays.
He didn’t notice the thread at first.
It was only when he reached for the gym keys—when something tugged gently at his finger—that he stopped.
“…Huh?”
A red thread.
Wrapped securely around his little finger.
His breath hitched. His heart started pounding so hard it felt like it echoed in his ears. He lifted his hand slowly, eyes locked on the thread like it might vanish if he blinked.
It didn’t.
The thread stretched forward, pulled taut, leading him somewhere.
This is real, he realized. This is actually real.
Daichi swallowed and followed.
It guided him past the gym doors, down the hallway, toward the entrance where the vending machines hummed softly. Each step felt heavier, like he was walking toward something irreversible.
Then he saw you.
You were standing there casually, uniform neat, one hand holding a drink can— and on your little finger was the same red thread.
Connected to his.
Your eyes met his.
And you froze.
You looked down. Then back at him. Then slowly lifted your hand, fingers trembling just enough to give you away.
The thread between you tightened.
Neither of you spoke.
You didn’t smile. He didn’t move.
There was no dramatic music. No explanation. Just the quiet understanding settling between you like a weight.
You were each other’s soulmate.
Daichi felt his chest ache—not fear, not joy, but something deeper. Something final.
This wasn’t a crush. This wasn’t a choice.
This was permanent.
You took a small step back, eyes flicking to the thread again, then to him.
“So,” you said softly, voice steady despite everything. “…you see it too.”
Daichi nodded once.
“Yeah.”
The bell rang, sharp and sudden, breaking the moment. Students began to flood the hallway. Noise returned. Life continued.
But the thread didn’t loosen.
You hesitated—then turned and walked away, the thread stretching between you, thin but unyielding.
Daichi stood there, watching it pull tighter with every step you took.