SOJIN'S POV
Joonwoo gathered his things on the table, his voice breaking the comfortable silence. "Sojin, let's wrap this up. How about I summarize our explanation to keep things clear and concise?"
"Sure, do you need any help with that?" I offered, tilting my head slightly.
He flashed a dazzling smile. "Nah, half the credit goes to you anyway. You already did your part."
We continued sorting through our notes when a sudden comment broke the silence. "Wow, I had no idea Sunoo was your boyfriend."
"Yeah, he is," I replied simply.
A light chuckle escaped his lips. "Guess I was a bit out of the loop. Sorry, didn't mean to step on any toes. By the way," he added, his voice dropping a notch, "I gotta admit, I like you."
I met his gaze with a smile. "I know," I confessed. "Thank you, though. I really appreciate how you always look after me, cooking those delicious meals. It means a lot."
Weeks of cramming, late nights fueled by instant ramen and questionable life choices, all led to this. Presentation day.
"Alright class, listen up. You know that glorious week of freedom coming up? Yeah, that's why these projects needed to be wrapped before you hit snooze mode next week. Any volunteers to kick things off?" A nervous energy crackled through the room. We'd all been grinding on these projects, and now it was showtime.
We finished watching the presentations, the classroom buzzing with anticipation as each group presented their projects. Finally, after what felt like forever, Professor Kim called our names. Joonwoo and I stood up, my heart pounding a little. Walking to the front, I hung the painting I'd made on the board.
A murmur went through the class as they saw the red lines and the sentence scrawled across it. "Alright class," The Professor boomed, his voice cutting through the chatter. "Let's hear what this is all about. Explain the concept behind the painting."
Joonwoo stepped forward, his gaze flickering between the artwork and the sea of faces. "You might be wondering about these red lines and the written message," he began. "They represent the concept of the red string of fate. While some scoff at the idea, others find truth in it."
He launched into the explanation we'd prepared. "Years ago, I heard this old Japanese tale about a red thread that connects people at birth."
Joonwoo held up a hand. "Hold that thought. Let's not get lost in the story. What I want to show you is how this phenomenon might actually play out. The universe, you see, throws little signs our way throughout our lives, nudging us in the right direction."
He continued, "Close your eyes for a moment," he instructed the class. A hush fell over the room as everyone complied.
"Imagine your body turning transparent," Joonwoo said. "Can you picture the intricate network of blood vessels that weave throughout, connecting every part of you? These life-giving rivers are essential to our very existence."
"Focus on one special vessel," he continued. "The one connecting your heart to your pinky finger. That ulnar artery, as it's called, makes your pinky a true extension of your heart. That's why people pinky-swear to seal promises, right?" A murmur of agreement rippled through the class.
Joonwoo delved deeper. "According to Japanese legend, this thread from your heart doesn't stop at your fingertip. It extends outward as an invisible red string, weaving out from your pinky and intertwining with the red strings of others. These connections link your heart to theirs."
He held his hand out, palm facing the class. "Think about it. Throughout your life, you encounter two kinds of people: those 'tied' to you by the red thread, and those who are fleeting, leaving behind only faint memories."
Just as Joonwoo was about to elaborate further, a hand shot up. "Question!" a voice piped from the crowd. "Sure, go ahead." Joonwoo replied.
"Who exactly are these 'fated' people?" the student inquired.
Joonwoo scanned the papers we had prepared, a hint of worry creasing his brow. Seeing him fumble, I chimed in. "The red string brings those together who crossed paths through pure coincidence," I explained, a smile playing on my lips.
"A chance encounter that defies the odds, a twist of fate that brings you together. You feel this instant connection, like you were meant to meet. You could go years without seeing each other, but one coffee catch-up later, it's like no time has passed."
My voice flowed, painting a picture. "These red-string people can be anyone – a friend, a teacher, a stranger who helped you in a bind, a lover who never gave up on you and changed you forever. They're special. You might have many friends, lovers, teachers, people in general, but these ones – they spark something different within you."
Another question came from the audience. "So, can this red string break?"
"Not necessarily," I replied. "The strings might stretch or get tangled, causing a delay in meeting your destined person. But the connection itself, they say, can never be severed."
"Alright, that's enough about the red string for now," the professor interjected. "You two have sparked quite the curiosity, but the sentence on the painting remains a mystery. So, I'll ask the question: how does the sentence connect to the red string concept?"
My gaze drifted to the painting, the inscription stark against the red background. "Two different worlds," I read aloud, meeting the curious stares of the class. "This sentence has haunted me ever since a certain someone walked into my life," I began, a hint of vulnerability in my voice.
"The concept of the red string never truly resonated with me until this idea of 'two different worlds' popped into my head."
I took a deep breath. "I like to believe that even if the universe intends for two souls to be together, even if they come from entirely different worlds, they'll find their way back to each other." The words rang true, a conviction settling in my gut.
Leaning forward, I emphasized, "Having a red string doesn't guarantee a permanent spot in someone's life. It guarantees the meeting. But recognizing the universe's nudges, the events that pull you towards this person, that's the key to choosing wisely and becoming a part of their life before it's too late. Sometimes, even when you and this person resist, if life keeps throwing you together, that's when you know the red string is stronger than your pride or your mistakes. That's the essence of 'Two Different Worlds'."
The classroom erupted in applause as I finished. Professor Kim's grin stretched wide. "Wow," he boomed, his voice filled with genuine surprise. "You two really came up with something special here."
The bell had just rung, signaling the end of another class. I shoved textbooks and notebooks into my bag, a satisfied sigh escaping my lips. High fiving myself mentally for absolutely crushing that presentation. Suddenly, Joonwoo stopped by my desk. "Hey, gotta admit," he said, scratching his head, "that explanation you came up with? Totally blew me away. Didn't think you had it in you."
"You weren't so bad yourself, Joonwoo," I replied, flashing him a peace sign.
As I slung my backpack over my shoulder and headed for the door, a familiar voice stopped me in my tracks. "Red strings," Sunoo drawled, leaning casually against the wall.
I turned to see him there, looking effortlessly handsome. "Hey." I chirped, immediately launching myself into a hug. "When did you get here?"
"Got a free period before lunch, so I figured I'd swing by early. Plus, I totally caught your presentation – you were awesome." he said, his words making my cheeks heat up with pride.
"Seriously? I had no idea you were even there," I mumbled.
He leaned in a little closer, "so, Mrs. Park," he began in a mock-serious tone, his pinky finger extended towards me, "is there a red string tying ours together? Can you answer that question lingering in my mind?"
Sunoo, I really, really hoped so. Trying to keep it cool, I chuckled. "Pfft, I don't know," I teased. "Fortune telling is beyond my expertise."
But the truth was, I couldn't help but wonder the same thing.
What if the red string wasn't leading us down the same path?
Would he try to break free from his, just for me?
