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The apartment was quiet and dark when Noah stepped inside, the kind of silence that made his chest feel tight. It hadn’t always been like this. There was a time when he’d come home to the sound of Yejun’s voice filling the space, asking him how his day was, laughing at something stupid he said. A time when the scent of Yejun’s cooking would linger in the air, and when the living room would be a mess of blankets from their lazy sunday mornings.
But now, it was just silence. Cold and suffocating.
He exhaled, running a tired hand through his hair as he kicked off his shoes. His body felt heavy, exhausted in a way sleep wouldn’t fix. Maybe he should just go straight to bed and pretend for one more night that everything was fine. But as he walked into the kitchen, he noticed something on the dining table. A single sheet of paper.
Noah frowned, stepping closer. His eyes scanned the text, but his brain refused to process the words. It took a moment for its weight to sink in.
Divorce Agreement.
His pulse roared in his ears as he felt the floor tilt beneath him. He reached for the table, gripping the edge as if it were the only thing keeping him upright.
He’s really leaving.
His vision started to blur. He blinked rapidly, but it did nothing to stop the flood of their memories that came rushing into his head.
From the first time they met, how they clicked so easily like two puzzle pieces finally finding their places. The warmth of Yejun’s touch, the way Yejun whispered Noah’s name when he was half-asleep, to the time they shared vows on their wedding day.
Noah inhaled sharply, tears threatening to spill over as he stared down at the divorce papers. Noah squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to think. To remember.
When did it start? When did their love begin to fall apart?
He couldn’t pinpoint it because it didn’t happen abruptly. It happened slowly, gradually shifting from warmth to empty spaces, from laughter to stifling shouts.
The nights were spent on opposite sides of the bed with backs turned away. The words were sharp as knives, leaving wounds too deep to heal. That cold distance that crept between them had turned love into something painful.
But Noah thought they still had time.
He thought maybe they could fix this.
His throat tightened, and before he knew it, a single tear splashed onto the page, smudging the ink slightly.
No.
No, no, no.
He didn’t want this.
Noah gripped the divorce papers tightly. His tears now streamed down even more heavily as a sob came out of him. It felt like his heart was being ripped apart inside his chest. Because despite everything, despite the fights, despite the pain, despite the nights he spent wondering if Yejun still loved him, he couldn’t bring himself to sign it.
Because Noah still loves him.
He was still not ready to let go.
*********
Noah woke up feeling exhausted this morning. He was still on the bed, his body demanded to sleep more, but his mind refused to shut down. Last night, he had a dream that Yejun's signature was on the divorce papers. It woke him up immediately, scaring him that it would happen for real. He couldn't sleep for a while until, at some point, he must have fallen asleep again.
When Noah was still lost in thought, looking at the white ceiling, he felt something warm pressed against his side. It was small, soft, and comforting.
Then it moved.
His eyes snapped to the side. And there he found a tiny creature, no bigger than a stuffed toy. It had soft, round yellow ears and fur so fluffy it looked like a cloud. Its tiny paws stretched as it let out a long yawn before blinking up at him.
"Good morning, Noah," it said.
“AAAAAAHHHHH!!!”
Noah screamed as he scrambled back so fast he fell off the bed, landing with a loud thud. His heart was pounding, his breath sharp and uneven.
"Okay. Okay. This is a dream," he muttered to himself, pressing his hands to his temples and shutting his eyes. "I’m still sleeping, and the anxiety makes me dream about a weird thing. There’s no way a stuffed doll could talk. Or maybe I accidentally hit my head while I was asleep. Yeah, that must be it. "
"Neither," the creature said, hopping down from the bed with an almost smug bounce. "This is very real, and you’re very awake."
Noah stared.
And stared.
And stared some more.
The creature sighed. "Come on, don’t give me that look. I know I’m cute."
Noah screamed sharply. "What the hell are you?!"
The creature puffed out its chest. "My name is Moi, and I’m here to guide you to your soulmate."
A beat of silence.
"My what?"
"Your soulmate." Moi gestured toward Noah’s hand. "Here, let me show you."
With a flick of its paw, a glowing red string appeared on Noah’s finger. He barely had time to react before his stomach dropped, because there wasn’t just one string.
There were four.
Noah gaped. His pulse was beating loudly in his chest as he lifted his hand, staring at the impossible sight before him. What is it? Is it what people call the red string of fate?
Moi grinned. "Well, that’s exciting."
Noah jolted up. "Exciting? What the hell do you mean by exciting?" He waved his hand wildly, the strings moving but remaining stubbornly intact. “Is this… a red string of fate?”
“Yes, correct!” Moi chanted.
"But… isn’t it supposed to be one? One string, one person, one happily ever after! That’s how it works!"
Moi chuckled, shaking its tiny head. "Oh, Noah. You humans are so dramatic." It tilted its head, looking at him with something almost fond. "That’s what you think you know. But that’s not how it really works."
Noah glared. "Then how does it work?"
Moi’s smile deepened. "Tell me something, Noah. Why do you think one person only has one string, one soulmate in their life?"
Noah stuttered, his eyes shaking as he looked for an answer. "I-I don’t know. Because everybody says so. Even in the movies, they tell you that a soulmate means The One. So, there must be only one person for everyone."
Moi’s eyes twinkled. "Interesting," it mused. "And yet… life doesn’t work that way, does it?"
Noah narrowed his eyes. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
"Let me ask you a question," Moi said, padding closer. "Two people are happily married. So, ideally, they’re soulmates, right?"
"Obviously," Noah replies.
"But what if, one day, the husband dies, and the wife eventually remarries? And she’s happy again, in love again. Based on that case, who do you think the wife’s true soulmate is? The late husband? Or the new husband?"
Noah froze.
His mouth opened slightly. He was ready to counter whatever Moi wanted to tell him, but no words came out.
Moi watched him, waiting.
He wanted to say the first husband. Because if soulmates were real, if love was meant to be forever, then surely the first love mattered most. But then… What about the second husband? If love could happen again, if happiness could be found in someone new, then didn’t that mean the concept of "one true love" was flawed?
His throat felt tight. "That’s—" He exhaled sharply. "That’s not fair!"
Moi tilted its head. "Why not?"
"Because—" Noah swallowed. "Because it means… love isn’t set in stone. It means people can move on. It means—" His voice caught. "It means Yejun could move on, too."
And that thought hurt more than he could put into words. The idea of Yejun smiling at someone else, laughing and finding comfort in someone who wasn’t Noah, it felt like his ribs were torn apart. Because if Yejun moved on, it meant Noah’s love might not be enough to anchor Yejun anymore. And it might mean they weren’t soulmates after all.
And that terrified him.
Moi watched him quietly before stepping closer, pressing a tiny paw to his hand. "Noah," it said softly. "You have to realize that there are so many paths to happiness. And you? You have four possible paths to choose from." Moi smiled gently. "Isn’t that amazing?"
Noah looked down at the glowing strings. They stretch out into the distance, leading to people, to potential soulmates he didn’t even know existed.
But his mind was still stuck on only one.
Yejun.
Was it foolish to still hope? To still want him, even when all signs pointed to their ending?
He exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. "It doesn’t make sense," he muttered.
Moi chuckled. "Love rarely does."
Noah let out a hollow laugh. "And you’re supposed to help me figure it out?"
Moi winked. "You bet I am."
*********
Noah never thought his life would come to this, taking advice from a tiny, talking bear-like creature with yellow ears.
Yet here he was.
In a week since Moi appeared, Noah had been pushed, dragged, and occasionally tricked into doing things he never thought he’d do again. It started small, a little nudged in the right direction. A text to an old friend he hadn’t spoken to in years. A detour through a street he used to love before life got too busy. And a quiet afternoon where he sat in a park and just… breathed.
But it was unsettling. The silence. The stillness. All this time, he had been consumed by the thought of his almost failing marriage. And Noah still couldn't allow himself to fully enjoy what he was doing.
Moi noticed.
"You don’t know how to be alone," Moi said one evening, watching Noah sip coffee at a small outdoor café.
Noah scoffed. "I’m sitting here by myself, aren’t I?"
Moi took a sip from its own tiny cup, which Noah didn’t know where Moi got it from, but he stopped asking questions. "Being alone and being okay with being alone are two different things."
Noah clenched his jaw, looking away. He watched people passing by, couples holding hands, friends laughing together. He wondered if he would ever feel that kind of warmth again.
"You’re scared," Moi said simply.
Noah exhaled. "Of what?"
"Of finding happiness without Yejun in the pictures."
Noah scoffed, "Isn’t that obvious?" His voice was quiet, almost lost in the noise of the city. "I built my life around him. Every dream, every plan, everything I wanted—it always had him in it."
Moi nodded its head. "And that’s the problem."
Noah’s brow furrowed. "Why’s that a problem?"
"You can’t build a life on someone else, Noah. You have to build it on yourself first." Moi shifted, watching him carefully. "Because when you build your life on people, you’ll expect something more from them in return. And when that person doesn’t meet your expectations, it’d kill you. And you start feeling unhappy about everything.”
Noah’s first instinct was to deny it, but he couldn’t. Because deep down, he knew what Moi said was true. There was a time when he hoped Yejun would act the way he wanted to. Everything he had imagined about them before marriage was somehow different from what had happened. And sometimes it frustrated him and made him ask for more.
Then, Moi continued, “The real lasting love comes when you already know who you are. And when you love yourself enough, when you truly understand yourself and view life from a better perspective, that’s when you’re capable of loving someone better."
Noah let out a humorless laugh. "That sounds nice and poetic."
Moi sighed. “I’m serious. You have to stop relying on your spouse to be the source of your happiness. Find out what makes you happy. Learn who you are without him. Because if you don’t, even if you get back together or end up with someone new, you’ll keep making the same mistakes.”
It looked at Noah for a moment, then added, “That’s why I asked you to do all those things this past week, so you could remember who you are again.”
Noah stayed silent, staring at the pavement beneath his feet.
"Relationships aren't easy. Let alone marriage," Moi continued. "It’s not some fairytale where love alone could fix everything. It takes work. It takes two people who are willing to fight for each other, not just with each other. And it’s never 50/50."
Noah glanced at it. “What do you mean?”
Moi gave him a pointed look. "You think marriage is about balance where both people give an equal half. But it’s not. It’s always 100/100.”
Then Moi’s voice turned gentle but firm. "If you keep score, you’ll lose. But if both of you never stop giving 100 percent, you’ll win. You know, love isn’t about waiting for the other person to meet you halfway. It’s about showing up fully, even when they can’t.”
Noah’s chest tightened. He thought about all the times he pulled away from Yejun, turning his back around while waiting for Yejun to close the gap, to reach out first. How many times had he let his own stubbornness win? How many times had he convinced himself that Yejun should be the one to apologize first, to fix things first, to prove that Noah was always right?
"You’ll screw up," Moi added as if reading his mind. "Your partner will screw up too. That’s what happens when you’re human. But the difference between love that lasts and love that fades is this—you expect it, forgive it, forget, and then you move forward from it."
Noah exhaled shakily. Moi’s voice softened. "Soulmate is the person you’re connected to, but it still takes effort to make it last. So, you have to be willing to work on it. And it starts from within."
Noah closed his eyes, the weight of Moi’s words sinking into him. He had been so focused on fixing his relationship with Yejun that he never once thought about fixing himself first.
Maybe that was the real reason things fell apart. Not because they didn’t love each other, but because they had stopped being themselves in the process.
Slowly, Noah nodded. "Okay," he said, his voice steadier than before. "I get it."
Moi smiled. "Good."
For the first time in a long time, Noah felt something shift inside him.
Something like clarity. Something like hope.
*********
With Moi’s relentless encouragement, Noah started living again.
He revisited an old music store he used to love, finding songs that he used to play over and over again. He reconnected with friends, went on long drives with no destination in mind, and rediscovered the dreams he abandoned along the way. Little by little, he started to understand himself more.
And through it all, he also came to understand something new about soulmates.
That they weren’t always just one person. And they weren’t always about romance.
Soulmates were the people who left marks on your soul. Those who changed you, shaped you, and challenged you to become something more. Sometimes, they were the ones who kept you grounded, who gave you very good advice so you could make clearer and wiser decisions. Other times, they were simply there to listen, letting you pour everything out without judgment.
A soulmate was someone you felt deeply connected to, as if your souls had known each other long before you met. With them, you felt truly seen and understood. And they made you feel entirely whole, healed, and intact, like no piece was missing from the puzzle.
And for Noah, all those things only pointed to just one person. The one he had always loved. The one who always tried his best to make him smile. The one he truly believed was meant for him.
Noah should be excited about everything he has learned over the past few weeks. About himself, about life, about happiness. And in some ways, he was. But none of it could stop the pain in his chest. None of it could stop him from wanting to turn to Yejun and saying, ‘Look. I’m better now. I know myself better now. Can we try again?’
One night, Noah stood on a bridge overlooking the city. The skyline stretched before him, lights blinking like stars against the dark. While Moi sat on the railing beside him, kicking its tiny legs in the air. They stayed in silence for a while, watching the cars pass below. Noah swallowed past the lump in his throat, staring at his empty little finger where the red strings had been seen before.
Four threads.
Four possibilities.
Four different paths.
At first, it felt like a cruel joke. As if the universe was shoving choices in front of him when all he had ever wanted was just one person. And now, even after everything, Noah still didn’t know where these red strings would lead.
Noah sighed heavily, dragging a hand through his hair. “Moi…”
Moi looked up, its ears twitching gently.
“I’ve done everything you asked,” Noah said quietly, his voice low and hesitant. “I’ve tried to understand myself better. I’ve thought about what a soulmate really means. And I get it now. Well, at least, I think I do.” He paused for a moment, then continued in a whisper, “But my heart’s still set on him. I don’t want anyone else.”
Moi didn’t say anything, only blinked slowly.
Noah swallowed hard, the next words sticking to the back of his throat. “Do you think… is there a chance that Yejun might be my soulmate?”
There was a long silence. Moi tilted its head thoughtfully, considering his words. Then it gave a small shake of its head.
“I can’t say it,” it said gently. “I can’t tell you where your red string ends or who it ties to. But here’s what I can tell you—the universe might nudge you. It might place people in your path who fit you, someone who makes your soul complete. But it doesn’t choose for you.”
Noah’s eyes widened slightly. “Then… who does?”
“You do,” Moi said simply. “It’s always been your choice.”
Noah blinked, startled. The idea of choice felt both freeing and terrifying.
“I thought soulmates were… destiny,” he said quietly. “Like the universe already decided. Like some cosmic truth I just have to uncover.”
Moi gave a small smile, then turned itself to face Noah completely. “That’s what most people think. That there’s only one. But you already know that’s not true.”
Noah nodded slowly. “Four red strings.”
“Exactly,” Moi said. “You’re connected to more than one person, Noah. You will meet every soul you’re meant to meet. Every tug on the string is someone reaching out from the other side. Someone pulling, just like you. Four people who pull at something inside you. You could choose one of them. Or you could walk away from all of it.”
“But then… what’s the point?” Noah murmured, more to himself than to Moi. “What’s the point of these strings if none of them mean anything definite?”
“They do mean something,” Moi said softly. “They mean connection. They mean possibility. But the question isn’t who’s fated for you, Noah. The real question is: Who are you pulled to? Who’s the one that makes your chest ache when you think of them? The one you keep circling back to no matter how far you run?”
Noah stared at the ground, his heart thudding like it already knew.
“Who’s the one,” Moi continued, “that—even after everything—you’re still so madly sure of? Not because the universe told you so, but because every part of you just knows?”
The silence that followed felt thick and electric, like the pause between lightning and thunder.
Noah closed his eyes.
He saw Yejun’s smile, the one he only gave when he felt truly safe. He remembered the fights, the silences, the hurt. But more than that, he remembered the mornings they used to wake up tangled in each other’s arms. The quiet way Yejun used to rest his hand on Noah’s back when he couldn’t sleep. The way Noah’s name always sounded softer when it came from Yejun’s lips.
“I know who it is,” Noah whispered. “Whatever happens, I know I’ll always come back to him. Even if I don’t know if our red string is connected or not, I know I’ll choose him all over again.”
Moi didn’t press further. It only smiled and nodded, as if the answer had always been waiting inside him.
"Then go to him, Noah. Let’s find out. You already know the way."
And with that, Noah turned. His feet moved before he could think. His heart pounded, not with fear, but with this certainty that no matter what happened next, he would fight for Yejun.
He didn’t even hesitate. Not this time.
He was making his choice.
Noah ran like crazy until he stood in front of Yejun’s rented apartment. His heart was pounding against his ribs, and his stomach twisted in knots. His fingers hovered over the doorbell, but he couldn’t bring himself to press it just yet.
It felt like a lifetime ago since the last time he met Yejun. The last time they talked, his heart was full of frustration and love that hurt too much to hold. Back then, Yejun thought some distance would help. So, he walked away, staying in this apartment for a while, thinking that space would make things clearer.
But it didn’t.
If anything, the distance only made it worse.
Noah exhaled shakily. Just as he reached out to press the doorbell, the door swung open.
Noah’s breath caught as he saw Yejun standing before him, just as stunning as ever. Blue-gray eyes widened in surprise, lips parting slightly like he hadn’t expected to see him. But there was something different now. Yejun looked thinner. Dark circles were visible under his eyes, and his shoulders slumped with the kind of heaviness that didn’t come from work or lack of sleep.
But Noah saw something else, too. Something that knocked the air right out of his lungs. Like Yejun had been waiting for him all along.
Noah swallowed hard. "Hey."
Yejun didn’t respond at first. He just… looked at him. Like he was trying to memorize every inch of Noah’s face. Like he was afraid the moment would vanish if he blinked. Seconds stretched between them until Noah found his voice again.
“Can I come in?”
Yejun hesitated for only a beat, then stepped aside with a nod. “Yeah… come in.”
Noah moved past him slowly. He looked around and saw empty beer bottles cluttering the trash can. Clothes and papers were strewn across the couch. It wasn’t like Yejun at all. Between the two of them, Yejun had always been the meticulous one who straightened cushions without thinking, who couldn't stand leaving dishes in the sink, the one who sighed at Noah’s messes and quietly cleaned them up.
Noah's chest tightened. This wasn’t like him.
The silence stretched heavily, almost suffocating. And Yejun was the first to break it. “Sorry about the mess.”
Noah glanced around again, then offered a small, crooked smile. “It’s fine. Really.”
He looked down for a moment, unsure of what else to say, until he heard a soft chuckle from Yejun.
“I was just thinking about you,” Yejun murmured. “And then… You showed up.”
There was a hint of disbelief in his tone. Then his gaze dropped slightly. “So… I guess you want to talk about it?”
The words landed between them like thunder. Noah flinched, but he didn’t back down.
“Yes,” he admitted. "I… I came here to see you because there’s something I need to say." He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I don’t want to sign it.”
Yejun stilled, his eyes locked onto Noah’s.
“I’ve been going through the weirdest moment of my life. And I’ve learned something I never thought about before. About me, about us, about marriage, about… soulmate.” He let out a breathless chuckle, more sad than amused.
"These past few weeks, I kept replaying everything in my head. What went wrong? Why do we keep hurting each other? Is there no love between us anymore? I kept thinking and thinking until I realized… I never even asked myself, have I ever done anything to make you happy?"
His eyes glistened, voice started cracking. "Have I ever truly understood your feelings without letting my ego get in the way? Have I really listened to you when you were hurting?"
Noah swallowed hard. His hands trembled, but he didn’t stop. "I want to change. I want us to figure this out together. I just…”
His voice caught in his throat, but he pushed through, "I just want to be with you, Yejun-ah." His voice dropped to a whisper. "For every second of every hour, for as long as we have. So no... I don’t want to sign it."
Yejun was still silent. His hands clenched at his sides. He looked away like he was trying to gather himself. Then he lifted his head, forcing himself to meet Noah’s gaze.
"I also thought about so many things while we were apart," he began. "Our marriage. Our future. If this was really the end of us." His fingers curled tightly as if to keep his composure in check. "I wondered if I was a good husband to you. If I gave you enough of all the love you deserved, if I made you happy, or if—" He exhaled shakily. "If we were just holding on because we were too afraid to let go."
Noah didn’t say a word. He just listened.
Yejun looked away, his jaw tightening. "But no matter how many questions I asked, no matter how many times I tried to convince myself we might be over… I just couldn’t lie to myself… That I still love you."
The words hung between them. Yejun let them settle, let the truth sink in.
"I never stopped, Noah."
Noah’s heart pounded so fast. He searched Yejun’s eyes, pleading. "Then why did you send me the divorce papers? If you still loved me… if you never doubted us, why did you do that?"
Yejun’s breath shuddered as he looked away. Noah saw it. The pain in his eyes, the hesitation, the way Yejun’s fingers tightened into fists.
"I sent them because I thought that’s what’s best for you."
Noah froze, his stomach twisting into knots.
"I thought…" Yejun swallowed hard, hand covering his face as if trying to push back the tears threatening to fall. "The last time we fought… I remember what you said. You said you were tired. You were unhappy. You felt unloved. And we just… we kept hurting each other and stuck in a circle of hell.”
Yejun let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "I was exhausted, too. I was tired of trying to hold onto something when it felt like you weren’t holding on anymore.” His voice wasn’t angry this time. It was tired, full of heartbreak.
"So, I thought maybe it was best to let you go. So you could find the happiness you were looking for."
Noah felt like he couldn't breathe. All this time, he had been drowning in his own heartbreak, convinced that Yejun was the one who had given up on them. But the truth was Yejun had been holding on. And Noah had been the one who left him breaking for too long.
Noah stepped forward, reaching for him. "I never wanted to say goodbye, Yejun-ah. I never stopped loving you. I was mad, I was lost, but I never wanted to let you go."
Yejun let out a shaky breath, his eyes glassy with tears. "Then don’t," he whispered.
Noah didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance between them right away, wrapping his arms around Yejun and holding him tight like he was trying to piece them back together with nothing but the strength of his embrace.
Yejun didn’t pull away. Instead, after a moment of stillness, he finally broke completely. Yejun clutched onto Noah like he was afraid he would disappear and leave him. His whole body shook with silent sobs, his fingers curling into the fabric of Noah’s shirt.
Noah pressed his forehead against Yejun’s, his own tears now falling heavily down his cheeks. "I’m sorry, Yejun-ah," he sobbed. "I’m so sorry."
Yejun swallowed hard, "I’m sorry, too. Just… Please don’t leave."
"Never," Noah breathed. "I’ll never leave you."
Noah tightened his hug. He could feel Yejun’s heartbeat against his chest. It was grounding. Real. He wanted to stay in this moment forever.
And at that moment, Noah’s breath stuttered. Because he saw something appear on Yejun’s finger. One red string floated from Yejun’s finger. It was glowing redder than he had ever seen, and it was tied to one of Noah’s red strings.
"Well, well. Took you long enough."
Noah and Yejun were startled by the voice. Slowly, they turn their heads toward the sound. There, peeking from behind the couch, stood a tiny fluffy creature that had accompanied Noah for the past weeks.
Noah let out a strangled noise. "Moi?"
And then, stepping out from behind the couch, there was another one. Identical with Moi in every way except for its ears. This one had soft blue ones and a far more polite attitude. It intertwined its tiny hands, sighing in relief.
"Honestly," the new creature muttered, "I don’t know why we even bothered."
Yejun stared at them. But he simply exhaled and chuckled, "Of course."
Noah, however, looked between Yejun and the two creatures, completely lost. "Wait—What is happening?"
Yejun laughed and looked at his husband. “Looks like we have two cupids working behind the scenes.”
Noah opened his mouth, then closed it.
"So, you had one of these things, too?" he asked Yejun incredulously.
The blue-eared creature, whose name was Meymu, laughed softly. "Obviously. Did you think you were the only one having an existential crisis over your marriage, Noah?"
"Yeah, but—" Noah sputtered, pointing accusingly at the two tiny creatures. "How long have you two been here?"
Moi shrugged. "Since forever."
Meymu nodded. "We’ve been watching you two make everything so much harder than it needed to be."
Yejun and Noah exchanged a look, both equally realized by that statement.
"You humans are a mess. Both of you had the answer in front of you the entire time, and yet you kept running in circles like headless chickens." Moi said.
Noah gaped. "Headless what?"
Meymu giggled, covering its tiny mouth with a paw. "Moi’s not wrong. You two spent so much time doubting yourselves, thinking you weren’t enough for each other, trying to fix what wasn’t broken when the truth was so much simpler.”
"And what's that?" Yejun asked quietly.
Moi and Meymu exchanged a knowing look. Then Moi said simply, “You chose each other.”
“You kept choosing each other,” Meymu added, voice warm. “Even when it was hard. Even when it hurt. No matter how messy things got, no matter how much you doubted yourselves, you always pulled each other back in.”
Meymu’s words settled over them like a revelation. Noah swallowed hard, turning to Yejun. "I was so afraid we were broken beyond repair," he admitted. "That maybe we weren’t meant to be."
Yejun watched him carefully with unbearably soft eyes. "And now?"
Noah lowered his gaze to their intertwined fingers, where the red string hovered between them. “Now I know,” he said. “You belong with me.”
He looked up again, straight to Yejun’s eyes. “And I belong with you.”
Slowly, a smile curved Yejun’s lips. “This red string,” he said, lifting their hands, “my only red string… it’s always been tied to you, Noah. Even when I was lost, I always knew there wasn’t anyone else.”
"Finally!" Moi let out an exaggerated sigh.
Meymu laughed, then turned to them with kind eyes. “I hope you never forget this feeling. The moment you find your way back to each other. The choice you made—to fight for happiness, together.”
Noah smiled softly, leaning just a little closer to Yejun.
“I won’t forget,” he whispered.
“Neither will I,” Yejun replied. “Not again.”
They held each other’s gaze, no words were needed to tell how much they loved each other. It already reflected through the softness and warmth shared between them. Before either could speak again, the two creatures exchanged a final glance and raised their little paws.
“Goodbye, Noah. Goodbye, Yejun.” They still waved until they vanished into thin air, and gone completely.
For a long moment, there was silence. Then Noah snorted.
Yejun blinked confusedly. "What?"
Noah shook his head, still chuckling under his breath. "I just can’t believe our marriage counselors were… whatever those two were.”
Yejun laughed along. "Honestly? Meymu was surprisingly professional. We had a serious deep talk before bed, watching and learning about love through movies, and all."
“Good for you. I was dragged by Moi all over the place and did any kind of thing I’d never done in years.”
Yejun smiled, “It sounds fun to me.”
Noah only grinned. “Yeah, it did.”
There was a pause for a moment before they burst into laughter again. The kind that shook their shoulders and crinkled their eyes. The kind that left them breathless, leaning into each other like they used to.
When the laughter faded, their eyes met again. And this time, there was no hesitation, no fear.
Just them.
“So,” Noah said. “Let’s go home?”
“Yeah,” Yejun said, reaching for his hand. “Let’s go home.”