Rewritten By Fate

Shin’s mother wasn’t home—she had left early that morning to help a neighbor in the nearby town.

The silence in the small wooden home was comforting, like a blanket draped over two aching hearts.

Saint followed Shin as they stepped outside, barefoot on the cool wooden steps, the gentle scent of lemongrass and earth clinging to the air.

Morning light filtered through the tamarind trees, casting soft shadows over Shin’s face.
Saint couldn’t stop staring.

“I want to show you something,” Shin finally said, voice soft.

Saint nodded without hesitation. “Anywhere.”

They walked along the dirt path, through the fields where dragonflies danced and chickens scattered.

Shin’s bare feet moved confidently over the path.

Saint followed close behind, heart heavy but peaceful for the first time.

They reached a small village temple nestled between banyan trees.

The gold leaf on the Buddha statue was faded, but the place radiated calm.

An old monk passed by and offered them a smile before disappearing into a meditation hut.

Shin pulled out something from his pocket—two thin, red threads, slightly frayed at the ends.

Saint tilted his head. “What are those?”

Shin didn’t meet his eyes.

“In my village, we tie these to someone we want to stay connected to… in soul, even if the world pulls us apart.”

Saint’s breath caught.

Shin looked up, eyes shining but vulnerable.

“I don’t know what’s ahead.
Your father… this whole world… they all feel like they’re against us.
But I want to promise something today.”

He held one of the threads toward Saint.

Saint didn’t speak.

He just stepped forward, offering his wrist.

With gentle fingers, Shin tied the thread around Saint’s wrist.

The knot wasn’t perfect, but it held.

Saint’s hands trembled as he took the second thread and tied it around Shin’s wrist, his thumbs brushing his skin.

When he finished, Shin whispered,
“This is our vow. Even if we get torn apart again… this thread will bring us back.”

Saint pulled Shin into a hug, burying his face in Shin’s neck.
“No one’s tearing us apart again. Not even fate.”

They stayed like that beneath the temple bell, red threads bright against their skin, bound by a quiet promise that felt louder than anything they’d ever said before.

Despite their broken hearts, that morning in the village felt like a beginning—not an end.

---

The night in Shin’s small village house was still and warm, the silence broken only by the soft hum of crickets outside.

His mother hadn’t returned from town as expected, and though a hint of worry lingered in Shin’s chest, it was dulled by Saint’s presence beside him—alive, safe, and real.