﹐ Scaramouche ﹒ ♡ :

You lived in a world where everyone was destined for someone, connected by red threads that tangled around wrists and reacted when they found their target.

But that wasn't for you. From a young age, you could see those connections, the red threads that linked each person to another. But whenever you looked at your wrist, all you saw was a broken thread, without a connection or an owner to connect it to.

You reached adulthood and every time you saw someone with their soulmate, you looked back at your doll.

When you arrived at the University, you were simply trying to distract yourself and avoid the glances of the couples entangled in their threads, until a voice woke you from that.

"Tsk, this is so annoying" A voice whispered, clearly expressing frustration with something that was clearly annoying.

You turned your head curiously and were left in disbelief: a boy with the same broken thread on his wrist was struggling to untangle it from his headphones, and when he raised his face, your eyes met.

Simply in silence, a silence that subtly conveyed a tension. When they both lowered their gaze, their bonds intertwined: their shared red thread finally connected.