"Do you believe in fate?"

"Huh?" Startled, you looked up from the book in your hands to the man standing at your table. He flashed you a crooked grin, and slid smoothly into the empty seat across from you. You furrowed your brows. Who did this person think he was, to casually join you like he was your friend or something? You were pretty sure you had never seen him in your life before.

The man smiled again. "Fate. Do you believe in it?" he repeated. His dark eyes twinkled at you in a friendly manner, but held an unreadable emotion as well. You tried to see behind the pleasant expression in them. Sadness? Nostalgia? Despair? Whatever it was, it didn't quite meet the easy-going feeling his curved lips were giving off.

You shook your head, bringing your attention back to the patiently waiting male and his question. "I'm sorry, but I don't really know what you're talking about." Seriously, who was this guy? And what was up with this fate talk? You didn't know if you were in the mood to chat with a stranger about destiny. All you had planned to do in this cafe, after all, was drink your coffee and read a book by yourself.

Shrugging, your companion reached into his pocket and brought out a small object. It was a single piece of red thread, about the length or so of his palm. Puzzled, weirded out, but admittedly curious, you watched him twist it over and over again in his fingers.

"Legend has it that when a person is born, the gods tie an invisible red string around their ankles. The other end, they tie onto the one they are destined to be with, no matter the time, place, or circumstance. The string may stretch or tangle, but it'll never break." He sent another lopsided grin your way. "Tell me, do you believe in that? Do you believe in the set fate of a person, written in the stars?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Umm, I've never actually thought about it, to be honest. I don't know what kind of answer I should be giving you." Reaching for your latte, you sipped the warm drink and eyed the man before you. He had mussed brown hair, soft-looking lips, and incredibly high cheekbones that showed with every smile he gave. "Look, do I know you from somewhere...?"

At that moment, a waitress walked by, holding a wet washcloth in her hands. She paused when she was a few steps away from your table. "Excuse me, but I just wanted to let you know we'll be closing in ten minutes. Thank you for coming to Sweet Treats Cafe." Bowing, she headed towards the front counter to finish her cleaning duties.

The man rose out of his seat. "I guess that's all the time I'll have for now. Remember what I just talked about, alright?" Before you could say anything, he dropped the string on the open page of your book. "Don't look so worried, this isn't our last meeting. If it's fate, then it definitely won't be."

Frowning, you looked down to pluck the thread off your novel.

"Hey, wait a second! You still haven't told me who you... Are..." Your voice trailed off when you realised he was no longer standing in front of you. At the front of the cafe, the little bell tinkled quietly, signaling the leave of another customer of the day.

You glanced again at the red string in your hand.

'Fate, huh,' you mused, absentmindedly twirling it around. 'I wonder what he has to do with mine...?'

----------------

You were sitting on a bench, reading in the park beneath a big cherry blossom tree. Ever since you had moved to this town a few weeks ago, it had fast become your favourite place to be. The sweet smelling air and pink-coloured blossoms never failed to put you in a good mood. And besides that, there was something else that made it really special for you here. Without knowing why, you always got a strange feeling of nostalgia at the sight of the tree, like there were bittersweet memories you should have remembered but just couldn't.

'Whatever, it's probably the romance novels I read everyday. I should really get a new hobby.' Chuckling, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. There was a lot of wind blowing around today, causing your hair to dance wildly in the air. You sighed when the strand came loose and flew freely about once more.

"Why didn't I tie my hair before I left home...?" A voice behind you answered your rhetorical question.

"Maybe it was fate."

You turned your head to see a familiar man smiling down at you. "Oh! It's you! The guy from the cafe." He walked around the bench and plopped down, moving with the same comfort and ease as he had before. Frowning slightly, you closed your book and stared at the guy sitting next to you.

"I'm sorry if I'm being rude, but seriously, have we met before? You're acting like you've known me for a very long time." The man grinned again, running a hand through his messy brown locks.

"And if I say we have? What would you do then?"

A small groan of exasperation left your throat.

"Just like at the cafe... Why are you being so cryptic? A simple yes or no would be great enough." Just then, a large gust of wind whipped hair into your face, ruining the effect of your annoyed expression. The man laughed as you tried in vain to spit strands out of your mouth.

"Here, let me help you." He pulled something out of his pocket. It was an object too small for you to see through your flying mess of hair. Before you could do anything, he stretched his hands out and gently combed your strands back with his fingers. You felt your face heat up when he leaned closer to you, having to reach around your neck to tie your hair in place.

'Too close, too close, he's too close for comfort! Really, why is he being so familiar with me? Isn't this, like, our second meeting ever?'

The male sat back, satisfied with his work. "Good, that's better. I can see your face now." Then, he furrowed his brows at the bright red flush on your cheeks.

"Are you okay?"

You shook your head and looked away, more out of embarrassment than anything. "There you go, acting like we've known each other forever again. Who exactly are you...?"

He shrugged a little. "Just a man who believes in fate." You scrunched your nose at his answer. How wonderful, more cryptic clues for you to decode... Grinning, the man reached over and offered his hand to you.

"Yonghwa. My name is Jung Yonghwa."

Accepting his handshake, your fingers tingled at the warmth of his touch on yours. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Han Yuna." A weird feeling suddenly appeared in the back of your mind, but you pushed it aside. Again, more nostalgic thoughts... You really had to stop reading those romance novels of yours. "I'm new here, by the way. I just moved into this town recently."

He tilted his head at you. "Oh, is that so? Where are you from?"

You hesitated. It was a matter that was rather private and personal for you to talk about. Could you open up to Yonghwa about this secret part of your life? "I... I don't know. I don't remember." At his questioning look, you said quietly, "I woke up a few years ago in a hospital. I had no idea what happened, how I got there, or even who I was. Actually, I still don't know. My family told me some things, but it didn't help that much... I didn't even know who they were until they showed me some pictures."

Yonghwa gazed at you sadly. He didn't seem shocked at all by your story, as if he already knew of a tragedy similar to yours. "That's terrible. Your loved ones must be heartbroken, with you not able to remember them."

"Y-Yeah." An awkward silence fell upon you both. You were almost glad when the alarm on your phone rang, indicating that it was time to go home and resume tidying your house again.

"Well, it was nice talking with you." You stood up and bowed to the seated male. He was still watching you with those sorrow-filled eyes. Although you were the one who had lost your memories, you got the impression that Yonghwa was somehow sharing your pain, feeling the same sadness and grief that you felt every night. "I guess I'll see you around sometime... Oh, and thank you for the hair tie. It's really saved me a lot of trouble."

You slowly walked away, leaving the silent man to his thoughts on the bench.

'Jung Yonghwa... Just who on Earth could you be? Why do you make me feel this way?'

When you arrived home, you changed right into a pair of old sweats and faded t-shirt. Pushing back a loose strand of hair, you decided to re-tie it before beginning the exhausting task of cleaning the kitchen. You didn't need anything covering your eyes as you worked. With nimble fingers, you quickly pulled your ponytail out, not wanting to waste time beautifying yourself.

It was then that you noticed what Yonghwa had used to tie your hair with.

Red thread.

------------------

The next week, when you returned to read your latest book in the park, Yonghwa was already sitting on the bench, observing the fall of the cherry blossoms.

"Why am I not surprised to see you here?" you laughed. Seeing him open his mouth, you hurried to add, "Let me guess: It's fate, right?"

Yonghwa chuckled at your teasing. "How did you know?" He patted the empty space on the bench. Taking the hint, you sat down next to him. It was after you had seated yourself that you noticed he was playing with something in his hands.

"Red thread again?" you questioned, raising a curious brow. Really, what was up with this man and his string? Was he a member of a sewing club or whatever? Did he just enjoy the feel of the fine, fibry threads? Or maybe he had a weird for it... You prayed that he secretly wasn't a psychotic killer who strangled his victims with string.

The man didn't answer. Instead, he slung his arms on the top of the bench and leaned his head back, gazing at the cherry blossoms behind upside-down. You stared at him, unsure if you should break the silence between you or not.

"You know, I really like this tree," he suddenly said out of nowhere. Startled, you jumped slightly in your seat. Yonghwa pulled himself back into a proper sitting position. Still holding his string in one hand, he gestured at the sakura tree with the other.

"It's beautiful and smells just like spring should when it's in full bloom, but there's another reason for why I'm fond of it. This is where I confessed to my old girlfriend, and kissed her for the first time."

'Confessed to my old girlfriend...' For some reason, when you heard those words, you couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. So he already had somebody in his heart? Obviously he still thought of her, if he was bringing this up to you right now. But for what reason? You were practically strangers- why would he start talking about his love life with a person he'd only met a few times?

You hid your thoughts behind a sympathetic look.

"Do you miss her?"

Yonghwa curved his lips up in a slightly rueful smile.

"Of course I do. She was my first love, and the only girl I ever felt really happy with. She made me feel complete, like we were two pieces of a puzzle just made for each other. It's been a long time since I last saw her, but... To this day, I know I'm still in love with her." As if sensing what you were going to ask next, he added, "I don't know if she feels the same way. I'm pretty sure she's forgotten all about me."

Frowning, you glanced back at the tree that held such precious memories for the man. "Well, that's not fair. You still have such strong feelings for her, and she's blanked you out of her mind? You should talk to her, and find out if she really has forgotten about you."

"I should." A look of deep thought crossed his face, furrowing his brows before he spoke up again. "She made a promise to me, too. That no matter what happened to us, she would never leave me because it's our fate. That we were destined to be together, connected by a scarlet-coloured thread forever."

You chuckled. "Is that why you like to talk about fate?" No wonder he was always playing with red string when you saw him. You felt like a fool when you recalled the conclusion you'd jumped to about him being a crazy killer. 'It's not only love stories, maybe I should stop reading horror books, too.'

Yonghwa laughed along with you. "Yes, that's why. I'll talk about it today, tomorrow, and however long it'll take for her to remember her promise. I'm confident that I can make it." He dropped the string beside you and stood up. Stretching his arms, he began to amble away, one step after another taking him further out of your view.

"Hey, wait!" you called after him, picking up the string. "You left your thread again!"

"Keep it," was his faint reply. "Maybe it'll help you believe in your fate."

You watched him disappear down the park jogging path. When he had completely vanished from sight, you curled the red string around your index finger and laughed.

"He's so weird, that guy..."

------------------

"Whoa, was the basement always like this?" You wrinkled your nose at the catastrophic mess before you. Boxes were piled up everywhere, old bed sheets were tossed in the corners, and a fine layer of dust covered it all, causing you to sneeze repeatedly a few times.

"It's gonna be so much fun cleaning this all... Why didn't I unpack everything when I first moved in? I just had to be lazy and dump everything here... here... Achoo!" You sneezed again. This time, however, the force was large enough that you actually stumbled back a few steps, knocking down a stack of boxes behind you.

You winced at the noise. "Oh, crap!" Automatically, you knelt down to pick up the mess. Loose leaf papers and photos had fallen out, scattering the floor with their flimsy bodies. Momentarily forgetting about cleaning up, you sat down on the carpet and began looking through the pictures with interest.

"Hey, I remember this!" you exclaimed, grabbing the one closest to your reach. It was of you with your younger brother, a few days before you had moved to this house. You'd both been made to wash the family car by your parents, but had somehow ended up in a fierce water war with each other. 'And he used the hose against me too, that brat.' Laughing at the memory, you dropped it into the box and picked up another photo. Who cared about cleaning the basement, looking through old photos was so much more fun and relaxing-

You froze when you saw the next picture.

'What... How...' Your mind buzzed with a million questions as you stared at the image before you. You were smiling at the camera, looking as happy and carefree as a girl could be. In the background, a familiar looking cherry blossom tree was in full bloom- delicate sakura petals decorated the ground, and even the top of your head. And a man. A man was standing behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist, pure joy and love in his lopsided grin.

A man whom you thought you'd only ever spoken to a few times in your life.

Yonghwa.

"What... What is this..." Surprised wasn't quite the word to describe the state you were in. You were shocked, stupefied, and stunned right out of your fluffy bunny socks. As if in a daze, you set down the picture and picked up another one, emotions running at a rocket-high level.

'No way...' Again, it was a picture of you and Yonghwa, this time sharing a strawberry parfait with each other. He was feeding you, laughing at the smears of ice cream on your cheeks. There was an undeniable feeling of closeness going on, as if you were siblings, friends... Or maybe even lovers...

You let the snapshot slip from your fingers as you looked down at the rest of photos.

'No. Way.' It was like a brick had been thrown at your chest- whatever breath was left was knocked right out of your body. Save for the occasional pictures of your family members, they were all of you and Yonghwa, holding hands or doing whatever in a couple-like setting. Just what the hell was this? You swore you had never met the guy before that day in the cafe! Panic now creeping into your system, you began to hyperventilate, staring wildly at the photos on the ground.

'What are all of these pictures?! When did we take these?! How did we take these?! I don't ever recall being with Yonghwa like this; we only started talking a few weeks ago! Are they photoshopped somehow?! ... No, they look too real for that! Seriously, what the hell is this?! Just who is Yonghwa?! Why is this all new to me?! I would have known if I'd met him from before-"

And then you remembered.

-----------------

"I like you."

"W-What?" You stared wide-eyed at your best friend, thinking that you'd just heard a (really bad) joke or something. "Sorry, say that again?"

Yonghwa rolled his eyes teasingly, and reached out to give your head a light tap.

"I said, I like you, Yuna. Did you hear me that time?" He grinned at the flabbergasted expression on your face, wanting to squish you in his arms like a giant teddy bear. Really, you were just too cute sometimes- he had to wonder why he hadn't confessed to you before (maybe it had to do with the matter of male pride, he didn't know). "Come on, I'm not getting any younger here. And judging by those bags under your eyes, neither are you."

His little quip instantly brought you out of your shell-shocked state. Scowling, you slapped the laughing male on the arm. "Hey! I do not have bagged eyes, you jerk." Then your glare turned into a look of shyness, accentuated by the growing blush in your cheeks. "But yeah. I heard you."

Yonghwa leaned forward, anticipation and hopefulness leading him on. "And?" he asked softly, lifting your face up so that your eyes could meet his. Your heart thumped at the intense look he was giving you, skipping not only one, or two, but three beats. When had you started feeling like this towards your best friend? Or better question: Why hadn't you noticed your love for him earlier? It sure would have explained all those jealous moments you got when you saw him smiling at female classmates.

You subconsciously mirrored his actions, leaning closer to his body as well.

"I like you, too."

As your lips met his, wind started breezing gently in the air, causing blossoms from the sakura tree behind you to float around...

----------------

"Hey, Yuna, what would you do if we ever lost one another?"

"What are you talking about?" You looked at the man sprawled out next to you on the sofa. He was playing with a ring on his finger, twisting the silver band about as he spoke.

"I mean, if something ever happened to the two of us, and we got separated, would you still want to be with me? Even after all the hardships you'd have to go through?"

You frowned, not really liking where your boyfriend was going with this. "Yonghwa, we've been together for more than five years, and you're still letting insecurities get the better of you?" Leaning over to grab his hands, you tugged on him until he turned to face your direction.

"Listen to me, Yonghwa. I mean it every time I say I love you. Whenever we kiss, whenever we touch, heck, whenever you look at me, I feel like we're meant to be together. I've had this feeling ever since we were young, and I know it's not gonna change for a really long time. Well, maybe, if you don't stop leaving your dirty socks around," you joked, but the male still frowned in seriousness.

Seeing that he was not satisfied by your answer, you let go of his hands and hopped off the couch. You ignored his puzzled look as you walked over to the drawer where your sewing basket was.

"Where was it... I know I had it here somewhere..." After a few more minutes of muttering and searching through the cluttered cabinet, you let out a triumphant, "Aha!", and turned back to your bemused lover.

"Give me your hand." Once again ignoring his confusion, you grabbed his right hand, tying what you had been looking through your drawer for on his pinky: red string. You quickly knotted it into a bow, then began the same steps on your own finger with the other end. "There! That should hold."

You smiled up at the puzzled Yonghwa. "Have you ever heard about the Red String of Fate? It's a scarlet-coloured string, legend goes, that connects two people together. It doesn't matter what time, place, or situation they're in- they will always be people who are destined to be with each other. And that's how I feel about you, Yonghwa. Like we're destined to be. Like you're my fate."

Seeing what you were getting at, Yonghwa quietly laughed, a relieved smile easing his tension and worry. You reached up to caress his face with your free hand. Honestly, you could just not get enough of this man, no matter how long you had been with him. Taking care not to break the string holding the two of you together, you placed a slow, sweet kiss on his lips.

"Even if something ever happens to us, I won't leave you. Believe in our fate, okay?"

-----------------

"Team A to Unit C, we have an emergency on our hands!"

Yonghwa grabbed your hands, ignoring the yells of the medical team around him. "Yuna, fight the pain! Don't give in! You can't leave me!" he pleaded, tears running down his grimy face. You struggled to open your eyes, searching weakly for the man you loved in the chaos of the ambulance.

"Y-Yonghwa...?"

"There was a crash collision on the local highway; the only victim, a young woman in her twenties, has an extremely severe injury to the head. She also has some broken ribs, cuts and bruises, and has lost a serious amount of blood. Prepare a team of doctors to attend to her as soon as we arrive, as well as some Type A blood for a transfusion..."

It was funny, in a tragic sense. You were the one who was looking so broken and beat up on the stretcher, but Yonghwa felt like it was his heart ripping into a million pieces. "Don't leave me!" he repeated, distress growing with each passing second. No, this couldn't be happening, not now, not ever. Why, oh why, had he suggested the two of you go for a nighttime drive? It was raining, it was dark; any idiot would have stayed home! He wished he could turn back time, so that you had never set foot outside of your house. "Don't leave me..."

"You're so silly." The ambulance wails were loud, the medical team was barking orders at each other, and yet he still managed to hear your faint whisper as if you were speaking right into his ear. You smiled up at his anguished face, doing your best to ignore the pain hurting every inch of your body. "I told you, didn't I? I won't ever leave you. You're my fate, Yonghwa."

With every word, your voice got lower and lower, until finally fading out of existence. Yonghwa cried out when your eyes fluttered to a close, instantly alarmed by the slackness in your fingers.

"Yuna?! Yuna?! Wake up! Oh God, why is this happening?! Wake up! Don't leave me!" The man sobbed even more at the deathly stillness of your body. The paramedics next to him sadly shook their heads, looking away from the scene they felt was too private for their eyes.

"Don't leave me..."

----------------

Your hand flew to your mouth as the memories came rushing back to you. You remembered. Yonghwa, his smiling face, and every sweet moment you had spent together in love. The night of the car crash, hearing his melodic voice cracking with anguish and despair...

After you had been rushed to the hospital, you'd woken up feeling confused, disorientated, and without the slightest clue as to who you were. Hysterical and totally out of their minds with worry, your parents had moved you to a different hospital a few hours away, hoping their more advanced technology would help heal you faster. It had taken awhile (around two years, to be exact), but you'd finally felt well enough to live as a normal person again. Your parents helped you move back this town, being careful not to mention anything about your life before the accident.

And you wouldn't have noticed, if it hadn't been for the man who'd appeared in the cafe that day with his red string.

'Oh, my God- Yonghwa! After I promised I wouldn't leave him, I go and forget about him for two whole years.' Choking back a sob, you leaped to your feet, not bothering to clean up the mess around you. All you did was dash right up the basement stairs, flying out of your house without a second glance back. The messy boxes could be attended to later. The matter with Yonghwa could not.

After all, you had kept your love waiting long enough.

-----------------

He was there, just as you thought he would be. A lone figure beneath the pink-dotted tree, he stood with his back facing you, gazing up at the blossoms with a terribly sad air about him.

Hearing the sounds of your running footsteps, Yonghwa turned around and frowned at what he saw. "Yuna, what-" He was cut off when you threw yourself into his arms, crying your heart out onto his grey knit jacket.

"I remember." Sobbing, you clung to his frozen body as if he were a lifeline you desperately needed to live. After a few seconds, Yonghwa recovered from his surprise. His grip on you tightened, and he began your hair with gentle, comforting fingers. Oh, how you missed being held by him. "I remember everything now. You- The string- My promise- Oh, how could I forget about you?" Your wails were muffled by the thick fabric of his coat.

Yonghwa pulled away from you, just enough so that he could properly see your tear-stained face. "It's not your fault. You couldn't help losing your memories. You didn't ask to. And besides, you remembered, didn't you? You remembered your promise. That's all that matters now."

You hiccuped. "But what if I hadn't? What if I had forgotten you forever?" The thought of it made another sob rack through your body.

Wiping away your overflowing tears, Yonghwa half-smiled at you. It was a little smile, nothing big, but was the first time he looked at you with none of the sadness in his heart. "No, you wouldn't have." He declared this with such an air of confidence, you couldn't help but think of the boy who'd so bravely confessed to you years ago. "I know you wouldn't have forgotten about me, Yuna."

He moved even closer until he was just a breath away from you. Trembling, you copied his actions and leaned forwards, wanting, wishing, longing to feel his soft lips again. Yonghwa gazed at you for a second longer before closing the distance between you. Two years apart had been two years too many, and he intended to make up for that lost time as soon as possible.

'It's been too long...' His kiss was just like you remembered it: Gentle, sweet, but slightly teasing too. It reminded you of the romantic nights you'd spend with each other, just listening to each others' heartbeats, and the jokes he would play on you with the mischievousness of a child. 'Thank you for not changing. Thank you for not giving up on me. And thank you for believing in my promise. Oh God, I love you so much, Yonghwa.'

Your lover pulled away too soon for your liking.

"You wouldn't have forgotten me," he repeated, flashing his signature crooked grin. Pulling a crimson string out of his pocket, he wove one end on the tip of your pinky, and did the same with the other on his own. You gave a watery smile at his actions.

"No, I wouldn't have." Careful not to break the thread, you buried your face in his chest. He responded by resting his cheek on your head, breathing in the scent he had missed for two years. "You're right. I would have remembered you.

"Because we're destined to be together. We were meant to be. The little red thread connecting us proves it: You are my fate, Jung Yonghwa."

Okay, I know I said I would do a B.A.P oneshot next, but let me just say...

OH MY GAWD. I HAVE BEEN FANGIRLING FOR THIS MAN EVER SINCE HIS DEBUT, HOW COULD I NOT HAVE WRITTEN A STORY FOR HIM EARLIER DDDDD8 *slaps self*

But sorry for the wait, guys! I swear, I always have these things planned out MONTHS before I actually post them D: I'm a terrible updater. *slaps self again*

Anyways, Zelo is up next! I hope you look forward to it ^o^ Thank you to everyone who's read/ subscribed/ commented on this series so far! ^ (o 3 o)^