Fate was a fickle concept. 

Did everything happen for a reason? Could a higher power determine it? Or was it just the natural order of things? There was no right answer to these questions, so accepting how things were and will be became common.

To have their lives pre-determined before birth… Acceptance of not being in control of one’s destiny did not sit well with some.

This brought forth the idea of free will—for each person to be responsible for everything in their life. What people did to reach the future they wanted would all depend on their choices along the way. Others may come in and influence them to succeed above society… or a downward spiral to end up as the dirt under a shoe. 

Yet, free will could be intervened. No matter how much free will was sought, fate would always find a way. Coincidences, luck, gut feelings, and a sixth sense could influence decisions, but those were nothing more than destiny providing a gentle push toward what it wanted. Much to its aggravation, certain individuals needed a hard shove to be on the path they were meant to take.

And one of those forms—the red string of fate.

────୨ৎ────

(20xx, Tokyo, Japan)

Teru

“Damn it.”

Teru checked his pockets again. Then he went through his bag for the hundredth time. But no, his gray mittens were definitely missing. He scolded himself for losing them. Thinking back, he was positive they had fallen out of his pocket when that drunkard bumped into him at the bus station earlier. The rude encounter made him fall on the icy sidewalk, which scratched his palms until they bled. 

WHAM. The door to the employee-only room with the locker rooms banged open, slamming against the wall behind it. Lucas, his childhood best friend from the United States, sighed loudly and stretched his arms.

“Ugh, I hate delivery day. That shift was longer than usual this time. Twelve hours should be illegal.” He opened his locker to get his winter coat. 

“Well, it kinda is since we didn’t get our mini break, and our lunch was cut short by the lack of staff,” Teru pointed out. Once again, he checked his bag, still hoping to find those mittens in some magical zipper he hadn't discovered yet.

“To make matters worse, I still can’t believe Nolan recently became the freaking manager here, too. He wants to fire me, I know it! It’s already enough that we deal with him as captain. I’m so glad he left early today. What a creepy bastar—”

Lucas paused his grumbling about their job at an international goods and pop-culture store in a large mall, which his friend applied for after Teru admitted he’d been employed there for financial reasons. He noticed Teru’s scratched-up hands.

“What happened? Did you work the whole shift like that? One of those cuts is still bleeding! We did a lot of heavy lifting today, too.”

And there he goes again, being fussy about me unnecessarily.

“A-ah,” Teru stuttered and shook them like it was nothing. “I just… had a tumble at the bus station this morning. Nothing a little spit wouldn’t do.”

“Can I see? Just to make sure it’s not festered with a flesh-eating bacteria.”

That made him laugh out loud, a genuine sound that was rare nowadays from all the stress. After sticking out his hand for Lucas to check out… he ran his tongue across the open wound.

“Ew, what the hell!” He yanked his arm away and bonked his wavy-blonde-haired friend on top of his head. “You know I don’t like saliva and all those bodily juices.”

His tongue rolled back into his mouth, eyes glowing with innocence. “But they say licking can help it heal faster. Nothing like a little spit.”

How dare he use my words against me!

“I guess, but that only applies if your mouth is clean. I don’t know where it’s been.”

Lucas frowned at that while trying to understand. Though he had lived in Tokyo since late elementary school, some phrases made him ponder their meaning. “What do you mean? It’s… been at work, home, or practice. I need specifics on where it could go.”

At first, Teru thought he was clueless, but he was just being sarcastic… and a little perverted. “You better watch that tongue of yours, senpai (“senior”). Your sarcasm will get you in trouble one day.”

“Don’t be a hypocrite, kohai (“junior”). We both know how you can be when you’re riled up.”

They glared at each other, though both knew it was all playful smack-talk, especially when they referred to each other in their hierarchical relationship titles as an insult.

Remembering that his mittens could still be at the bus station, Teru quickly bundled up his mint green pea coat. He slammed his locker shut and hustled out. “See ya.”

“W-wait! I’m coming!” CRASH. Lucas tripped while trying to put on his shoes, tumbling into the empty boxes stacked against the wall. “Don’t leave me here! I still need to write my shift hours on the sheet in the back office! Teru!”

But Teru was already gone, rushing out of the mall as fast as he could to leave Lucas behind as a joke.