❝In the tale of fate, the red string connects us all, but not every thread leads to a soulmate.❞
In a world where love is entwined with fate, an abandoned conductor escapes the confines of an unnatural train into a universe he's forgotten.
As he nav...
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Hotaru sat slumped in his seat, his chest still heaving with the aftermath of uncontrollable sobs. His head rested against the cold window of the Bound Line Express, his tear-streaked face reflected in the glass. He could still see her face, Emi's tear-filled eyes and trembling lips, as she forced the ticket into his hand and sent him away. It felt surreal, like some kind of twisted torment he couldn't escape.
He wiped his face with the back of his hand, his whole body trembling from the emotional exhaustion. The rhythmic clatter of the train on the tracks was the only sound that filled the cold, sterile atmosphere of the cabin.
The door to the compartment slid open, and a conductor stepped inside. His uniform was pristine, his face neutral but not unkind. Hotaru's gaze flicked up, barely registering the man's presence as he approached. The conductor extended his hand, a polite smile tugging at his lips.
"Ticket, please."
Hotaru's hand shook as he reached into his pocket, pulling out the crumpled ticket Emi had forced upon him. His fingers trembled, reluctant to part with it, but he held it out. The conductor took it, his gloved fingers smoothing out the creases as he examined it.
After a brief pause, the conductor's eyes flicked up from the ticket, meeting Hotaru's with a smile.
"Emi Everest: payment made in tears."
Hotaru's heart lurched at the sound of her name. He wanted to scream, to reach out and grab the ticket back, but the conductor had already moved on, strolling down the aisle as if nothing had happened. He stared after the man, his mind racing with unanswered questions.
The emptiness inside him expanded, his chest tightening with every shallow breath. Hotaru leaned back in his seat, staring blankly ahead as the train sped forward, carrying him to a destination unknown.
For hours, the train rumbled on. Conductors came and went, offering food, drinks, and even blankets to keep him warm. But Hotaru barely touched anything. His appetite was gone, replaced by a gnawing pit of dread in his stomach. They gave him a rule book, which he flipped through again and again, scanning the pages for any sign of hope, any mention of escape. But the words blurred together in his tired mind, offering no solace.
Each time he closed the book, he opened it again, as if hoping the pages would change and reveal something new, something that would make sense of all this. But the more he read, the more confused and defeated he became. There were rules for everything—how to greet conductors, how to board the train, how to present your ticket—but nothing that explained how to get off once you were on.
He felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of his fate. He had tried so hard to escape this—run from it for so long—and yet, here he was, right back where he started.
Tears slipped from his eyes, silent and unbidden, as the hours dragged on. His mind raced through memories of the pretty woman—her soft voice, the way she looked at him when he was scared, how she took care of him. The image of her standing on the platform, watching him disappear, wouldn't leave his mind.
Twelve hours passed, though it felt like an eternity. His tears had long dried up, leaving only a raw ache in his chest. The train continued its steady pace, and for a moment, Hotaru wondered if it would ever stop. Maybe this was his fate—to ride endlessly, never reaching a destination, forever stuck in this limbo between worlds.
But then, without warning, the train began to slow. The sound of the wheels screeching against the tracks filled the air, and Hotaru sat up, his heart pounding. He stared at the door, waiting, his entire body tense with anticipation.
The Bound Line Express came to a halt, the hiss of the brakes filling the silence that followed. Hotaru held his breath, his mind racing with questions.
What now? Was this his last stop?
The doors slid open with a soft hiss, and Hotaru's gaze flicked up. He stood up, his legs shaky beneath him, and took a tentative step toward the exit.
His heart pounded in his ears as he approached the door, the light outside growing brighter with each step. He reached out, his fingers trembling as he gripped the doorframe. He hesitated, his mind racing with the possibility that this was just another cruel trick, another layer of torment in the endless maze of the Bound Line.
But then, he stepped out.
The air hit him like a wave, warm and sweet, the scent of blooming flowers filling his senses. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the light as he stepped fully onto the platform. It wasn't the station he had been expecting—no dim, cold setting like before. Instead, the place before him was serene, almost peaceful. It looked like a small village, with cobblestone streets and ivy-covered small houses. Farmers bustled about, laughing, talking, their faces warm and familiar.
Hotaru's breath caught in his throat.
He looked down at his hands, still shaking from the ordeal, and then he glanced around again. His heart raced as he scanned the crowd, searching for a sign—anything to tell him what was happening.
A figure, standing at the edge of the platform, back turned to him. The sun cast a soft glow around them, their silhouette almost ethereal in the golden light. Hotaru's heart leapt in his chest as he took a step forward, his breath catching in his throat.
