Beyond the Red String

I

But can someone really be born without strings?

Fourth hasn't met a stringless person yet.

"What could be a sin so great that you'll be crucified for life?" Phuwin asked, snapping Fourth out of his thoughts as they are driving towards a neighborhood that Fourth hasn't seen before. "I respect the deal with the whole soulmate system but—no offense, Fourth," he glances at him. "—it's just too cruel to judge a whole person's life based on a string."

"I don't know what you want me to say, Phi." Fourth sighed. "But, you gotta be curious as to why they don't have a string, right?"

Phuwin nodded. "Yeah. But I'm not gonna judge them for that. It's not like they killed someone." He takes a look around and smiles when he finds an empty parking spot, quickly claiming it.

"Did you just drag me out to question me with your own beliefs on soulmates?" Fourth frowned. "Or is this about my cousin's matchmaking date?"

Phuwin stiffened—just for a moment before he carried on stepping out of the car. "I don't know what you're talking about. Come on. Get out. We're losing time."

"What?" Fourth follows his friend through the crowd, navigating through the alleys. The neighborhood hums with quiet creativity. Murals bloom on brick walls, each alley hiding its own splash of color or clever stencil. Independent galleries, cozy cafés, and artisan boutiques line the walkable streets, their windows filled with handmade goods, vintage finds, and rotating local art. "What is this place?" he asked, glancing at the man sketching on a bench without a care in the world.

"I'm not really sure, but Joong said this place is really cool because most of the people that live and work here don't believe in the whole soulmate system."

"What?"

"Amazing, right?"

"Wait—No! We're going to get killed. Do you know that people like them detest," he lowers his voice. "—people like me. We have to leave now!"

Phuwin grabbed his hand. "Calm down. No one knows you're a matchmaker, ok? Just relax. It's not like we're gonna shout it at the top of our lungs. We're just here to visit a shop, a pottery shop per se—Dunk highly recommended it. And the owner is a stringless person."

Fourth narrowed his eyes. "How did they find out?" he asked, because as far as he knows, Dunk and Joong were not matchmakers.

"It just came up in their conversation. Apparently, Gemini—that's the stringless person's name, is very chill about it. He doesn't care about the soulmate thing."

"Are you sure this is safe?"

"Yes, now come on. The shop closes at three p.m and I need to buy my mother another tea set."

Shape + Soul sits quietly on a tree-lined street, nestled between indie galleries and espresso bars. With its matte sign and wide glass front, the shop blends seamlessly into the neighborhood's creative rhythm.

"This is the shop, Fourth. Doesn't it look pretty?" Phuwin grinned, looking proud at himself. "Let's go in."

When Fourth stepped inside Shape + Soul, the noise of the street faded, replaced by a soft, grounding stillness. It was the kind of space that made him slow his steps, lower his voice, and take a deep, unhurried breath, as though the world outside could wait just a little longer.

The shop was bathed in natural light, spilling in through large windows and casting a warm glow over the simple, clean lines of the space. Shelves stretched along the walls, displaying ceramics—mugs with soft, earthy glazes, vases with elegant curves, and bowls that seemed to invite touch with their smooth, imperfect edges.

There was a quiet comfort to the air—earthy, with a hint of something herbal, maybe sage. It didn't feel like a store; it felt like a pause, a moment carved out of time.

Fourth wandered through the room, his fingers brushing lightly over a wooden table, where a few pieces were displayed. His hand paused over a mug—its glaze a swirl of muted greys and soft whites, the shape simple but inviting. He picked it up. It was heavier than expected, but solid, grounding. It felt good in his hands, like it had been made with care, not just to be seen but to be held.

In the corner of his eye, he sees Phuwin head straight towards the counter, cheerfully greeting the young man behind it. The man was handsome—a cheeky looking grin plastered on his lips as he interacted with Phuwin. Dark hair tousled under his bandana, cheeks stained with paint and clay.

Fourth knew he shouldn't be staring but there was something about him that made him unable to look away.

Then the man shifts his eyes toward him.

Their eyes met.

Fourth abruptly looked away, suddenly finding a piece of mug a tad too interesting as he mentally panicked. Did he get caught staring?

"Fourth!" He hears Phuwin call him. "Come over here. I want you to meet someone."

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he turns to face them. A practiced smile on his lips as he approached them, exchanging a wai with the man. "Hi," he greets, cheeks rosy as he finally sees the man up close and god, was he handsome. Why didn't Phuwin warn him?!

"Oh, Fourth," Phuwin teases. "Why is your face so red?"

"It must be the weather," he smacks him. "I'm Fourth."

The man laughs. "Maybe I should turn up the air conditioning unit, yeah? Your cheeks are too red to be normal," he leans up close. Fourth squeaked. "Narak."

"Excuse me?"

The man grins, reaching out a hand towards him. "I'm Gemini."

Fourth huffed. He was about to reach forward when he sees it—more like, sees nothing.

No string.

No tether.

Just silence.

He looks up, meeting Gemini's eyes once again.

And for the third time that day, Fourth wants to scream.