Strings Of Fate:Fate Rewrite

Jiho's morning began in the most ordinary way: a hurried breakfast, dodging his mother's complaints about his messy room, and a mad dash to avoid being late to school. But his thoughts were far from ordinary. The cryptic messages from the app, Mirae's enigmatic personality, and Su Yong's unexpected return all swirled in his mind.

"Trust is the first thread," Jiho muttered under his breath, recalling the app's ominous words. It felt more like a warning than advice.

As he approached the school gates, he spotted Su Yong again, his tall frame making him stand out among the crowd. Jiho waved but noticed something different about his friend's expression—it was lighter, almost as if he was trying to mask his usual dull demeanor.

"You're early," Jiho said, catching up to him.

"Trying to make up for lost time," Su Yong replied with a faint smile.

Jiho wasn't sure if he believed him, but before he could pry, they heard an argument erupt nearby.

A group of students stood in a loose circle, watching as Mirae exchanged heated words with another girl, one of the more outspoken members of their class. Jiho recognized her as Soojin, someone who loved stirring up drama.

"What's going on?" Jiho asked, stepping closer.

"Mirae and Soojin are at it," someone whispered. "Apparently, Soojin said something about Mirae being secretive and weird."

"Classic Soojin," Su Yong muttered, crossing his arms.

Mirae's calm demeanor had cracked slightly, her usual poise giving way to a flicker of irritation.

"If you have a problem with me, say it directly," Mirae said, her voice steady despite the tension.

Soojin smirked. "Oh, I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking. You walk around like you're better than us, always hiding behind that notebook."

Jiho felt a surge of anger rise in him. Before he realized it, he stepped forward. "Leave her alone, Soojin."

The crowd shifted their attention to Jiho, whispers spreading like wildfire.

"Oh, look who's come to the rescue," Soojin said, her tone mocking.

Jiho didn't flinch. "Maybe you should spend less time worrying about others and more time fixing your own issues."

The crowd let out a collective "ooh," and Soojin's face turned red. She scoffed and walked away, muttering under her breath.

Mirae glanced at Jiho, her expression unreadable. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know," Jiho said, scratching the back of his head. "But I couldn't just stand there."

For a moment, Mirae's gaze softened. "Thank you."

---

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, but Jiho couldn't shake the strange energy that lingered after the confrontation. At lunch, he, Su Yong, and Mirae sat together—a rare occurrence.

"So, what's the deal with Soojin?" Su Yong asked, biting into his sandwich. "Does she hate everyone, or is it just Mirae?"

"She thrives on attention," Mirae said simply, picking at her food.

Jiho watched her closely, noticing the way she avoided eye contact and kept her answers short. It was clear she didn't want to dwell on the incident.

"Hey," Jiho said, trying to lighten the mood. "At least she didn't insult my fashion sense this time. That's progress."

Mirae's lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile, and Su Yong chuckled.

"Speaking of fashion," Su Yong said, leaning back in his chair, "are you guys coming to the school festival next week?"

"The festival?" Jiho asked, surprised. He'd completely forgotten about it.

"Yeah," Su Yong said. "They're setting up food stalls, games, performances—the whole deal."

Jiho glanced at Mirae. "Are you going?"

"I might," she said vaguely.

"Well, if you do, stick with us," Su Yong said. "We'll make sure Soojin doesn't ruin your day."

Mirae's expression softened slightly, and she nodded.

---

That evening, Jiho found himself staring at the Fate Rewrite app again. The latest message had stuck in his mind: "The second thread awaits."

"What does that even mean?" he muttered, scrolling through the app's minimal interface.

After a moment of hesitation, he tapped on "Reveal Insight."

The screen flickered, and a new message appeared:

"Threads can tangle if pulled too hard. Let them weave naturally."

Jiho frowned. "Is this supposed to be advice or a riddle?"

He sighed and set his phone down, flopping onto his bed. His thoughts drifted back to Mirae and the strange tension that seemed to follow her everywhere. Despite her aloof nature, there was something undeniably magnetic about her—a mystery he couldn't resist unraveling.

---

The next day, Jiho arrived at school to find Su Yong waiting by his locker.

"You're early again," Jiho said, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't get used to it," Su Yong replied, smirking.

As they walked to class, Jiho noticed Mirae up ahead, her notebook tucked under her arm as usual. Before he could call out to her, Su Yong nudged him.

"You like her, don't you?" Su Yong asked casually.

Jiho nearly tripped over his own feet. "What? No! It's not like that."

Su Yong raised an eyebrow. "Sure it's not."

"It's not!" Jiho insisted, his face heating up.

"Whatever you say," Su Yong said, grinning.

---

During class, Jiho couldn't focus. His mind kept wandering to Su Yong's teasing and the app's cryptic messages. When the bell finally rang, he hurried to catch up with Mirae before she disappeared.

"Hey," he said, falling into step beside her.

"Hi," she replied, glancing at him briefly.

"Are you okay? After yesterday, I mean."

"I'm fine," she said, her tone neutral.

Jiho hesitated, then decided to take a risk. "Do you trust me?"

Mirae stopped walking, turning to face him. Her expression was unreadable.

"Why do you ask that?" she said, her voice calm but guarded.

"I don't know," Jiho admitted, scratching the back of his head. "It just feels like trust is… important. Like it's the first step to understanding you."

Mirae studied him for a moment before replying, "Trust is earned, Jiho. Not given freely."

Her words lingered in Jiho's mind long after she walked away.

---

That evening, Jiho opened the app again, half-expecting another cryptic message. Instead, the progress bar had increased to 10%, and a new option appeared: "Unlock Memory."

Curious, Jiho tapped on it. The screen flickered, and an image of Mirae appeared—except it wasn't the Mirae he knew. She looked younger, her hair shorter, and she was smiling—a genuine, unguarded smile.

Beneath the image was a single line of text: "The threads of your past and present are closer than you think."

Jiho stared at the screen, his heart racing. What was this app trying to tell him? And how was Mirae connected to it?

One thing was clear: the threads of fate were only beginning to weave their intricate pattern, and Jiho was caught in the middle of it all.