As soon as Taehyung felt conscious, he felt nausea filling him. He shot up from the bed, took fast but staggering and unbalanced steps to the bathroom before dropping down next to the toilet seat and emptying his stomach. His throat burned and his eyes were teary. He leant back against the bathtub, feeling worn out. The pounding in his head had ceased a bit after he had vomited. Still, the taste remained in his mouth so Taehyung pulled himself up and brushed his teeth because he knew he would throw up again if it remained. 

     He went back to his bed with the support of the walls and furniture. He was in his room, with the vague memory of passing out in the middle of the park. A glance at the clock told him it was half past one in the evening. Seokjin should be on break at work, and Jimin was probably occupied in class. Then, he saw the painkiller and a glass of water with a small plate over it on his nightstand. He hurriedly gulped the pills down with the water, before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep again. 

But the creaking sound of the door opening stopped him. 

"Baby, how are you feeling?" the soft voice of Seokjin asked. 

     The bed dipped a bit on his left side and there was a rustle of sheets. A hand was his hair, easing his bits of headache. His eyes were still closed as he leant into the warm touch. Seokjin frowned, he hated seeing his baby brother so vulnerable. He glanced at the empty glass on the nightstand, his frown turning deeper. Taehyung hated medicine with a passion. It must really hurt that he had swallowed those pills willingly. 

     He continued Taehyung's hair, but then remembered the real reason he had come in the room in the first place. He stopped the sreoking and Taehyung let out a small whine at the lost of contact. Seokjin leant down and kissed the crown of his head, where a small bump had formed from his fall. He sighed, and stood up from the bed. 

"Baby, I have to go to work. Just go to sleep, Jimin will be home in an hour. There is porridge in the fridge if you want to eat. There's a lot so you can eat with Jimin later too, okay?" he said, receiving a weak nod as an answer. 

     Seokjin left the room once light snores were heard from his brother. He was really reluctant to leave the boy alone, but he could not afford to skip on work because the other chef had called in sick. Seokjin was the restaurant owner's only hope as they were expecting an important food critique that evening. Besides, Seokjin still hadn't expressed his gratitude fully towards the restaurant owner's son, Namjoon, who had found Taehyung. 

      It was by luck that Namjoon had passed by the park, taking a walk of his own while contemplating the meaning of life. He had seen a crowd of people gathering around a body on the ground. Curious, he neared the scene, feeling a sense of familiarity when he saw the boy. Thankfully, Taehyung had visited Seokjin at work enough to make Namjoon recognise him. He parted the crowd and picked the boy up, calling his mother to see if she knew Seokjin's address. 

Of course she did. 

     So, he sent the unconscious Taehyung home, quite worried about him. However, the boy was breathing regularly so Namjoon was quite sure there was nothing to worry about except for the bump on his head. He had examined the boy earlier, being a medic student, and there was no signs of concern. He didn't go into spasms or foam at the mouth, so whatever caused him to lose consciousness was not life-threatening. It was probably something he ate or drank. 

     Seokjin had almost screamed when the doorbell rang. He was worried when Jimin arrived home without Taehyung as per usual. He was pacing around the living room while Jimin muttered apologies for not taking better care of his best friend. Truthfully, it wasn't his fault but Seokjin knew the boy wouldn't stop apologising even if he said so. 

And that was how Taehyung got home after he fainted in the park. 

*

*

*

     Taehyung stared at his pinky finger. All of these stories about the red thread of fate was supposed to be a rumour. But, there he was, staring at a red thread loosely hanging on his pinky finger. He didn't know how it got there. It was just there when he woke up. He had blankly stared at the thin thread for half a minute until it registered in his head and he started to scream bloody murder. 

     The door to his room opened with a loud bang and Jimin was there, panting while holding on to a frying pan in his left hand. His eyes were wide and frantic as he scanned the room for any threats. But, the only sight that greeted him was his best friend, still screaming his head off, while gripping his pinky finger as if it had been cut off. Jimin could see nothing wrong so he proceeded to crawl over and slap his hand over his best friend's mouth to shut him up. 

The kid must have hit his head really hard, Jimin thought. 

"Jfmnfi, thrhsg smfngj ojd mghf fgabd," Taehyung said with horror, his words terribly muffled by Jimin's hand. 

"What did you say?" Jimin asked, confusedly, with his hand still on Taehyung's mouth. 

      In a restaurant not far from the house, Seokjin drops his spatula (with a pink handle, I might add) and quietly mumbles to himself, "They're being stupid again. I guess Taehyung's better now,". Well, back to the duo, Taehyung pried Jimin's hand away after a few tries of muffled screaming and realising that he actually had his hands free. His spectacles nearly slipped off with all the struggling. 

"Look! There's a red thread on my pinky finger," he said, practically shoving his hand into Jimin's face. 

"Wha-YAH! I see nothing wrong with your damn finger, you pabo," Jimin pushed him away, making him land on his bed. 

"... you can't see it?" Taehyung murmured quietly, eyes widening as he stared in horror at Jimin's pinky finger, where another red thread was loosely hanging. 

"See what? Is this another of your acts again? Aish, Kim Taehyung, did you hit your head that hard? Thank God it's not broken. Now go shower and brush your teeth," Jimin nagged in an obey-me-I'm-your-2-months-older-hyung tone. 

     Jimin removed the spectacles from Taehyung's face, putting them on the bedside table before going out of the room, mumbling under his breath, mostly about his best friend's idiocy. Taehyung pouted as Jimin closed the door. How could his own best friend not believe in him? Sighing dejectedly, he looked at his pinky again. 

'Wow, it's so blurry. My eyesight must be real bad.' 

      Wait, it's gone! Taehyung blinked and rubbed his eyes furiously before looking again, but it was really gone. Well, it was probably his still sleepy mind meddling with his vision after all. Heaving a deep sigh of relief, he got up and did exactly what Jimin told him to do. He can smell the porridge from downstairs and his stomach sure needed to be fed. 

     After coming out of the bathroom, Taehyung quickly pulled on his clothes which consisted of his oversized sweater and loose pants. Then, he took his glasses, wearing them while running down the stairs. But something made him stop in his tracks, not that cleanly though because he stumbled and fell the last two steps. 

"OH MY GOD KIM TAEHYUNG WHAT THE HELL!?" cue Jimin running to him from the kitchen. 

     Taehyung was too distracted to notice. He scrambled to find his glasses, putting them back on when he finally found them. There it was, the red thread. Taking them off, he noted that it disappeared but when he put them on again, it wasthere as if it was never gone in the first place. Something clicked in his mind that he jumped up from his sitting position on the floor, surprising Jimin who had been trying to gauge a reaction from him. 

"Jiminnie, it's the glasses!" he exclaimed in awe, struggling to put the glasses on his best friend who was shoving him off. 

"I'm not near-sighted like y-- ohhh!" his protests turned into an awed gasp as he stared at his pinky finger then Taehyung back and forth. 

"Do you think we can cut it off or something?" Jimin asked after a while, causing Taehyung to look at hi