Threadless : A growing novel

"You only feel watched when the watcher wants you to."

It began again during a shared lesson.

The classroom looked normal.

Perfect rows. Calibrated light. No wind.

But Rin felt it first — not with his eyes, but with the back of his neck.

Someone else was in the room.

He looked up.

Everyone was seated.

Even Jun was pretending to focus.

But… one chair near the window felt wrong. Occupied, but unlisted.

When Rin blinked, it was empty again.

Later, as students filed out, Mei paused at the door. Looked at the wall.

Then at the floor.

Then — softly — at nothing:

"Still watching?"

Aro turned. "What?"

Mei shook her head. "Nothing. Thought I saw a mistake that didn't want to be seen."

Meanwhile, Jun was digging through his notes again. He'd found a strange annotation he didn't remember writing.

"Erase only the ones that loop."

Below it: a signature that wasn't his. Or was, from a version he didn't remember being.

That night, Aro returned to the threadwork chamber alone.

She found her old scarf. The one Rin had helped restore.

Except now there was a new stitch — added by someone else.

A silver thread.

Tied once.

Never knotted.

When she touched it, she felt something warm.

A hand?

No. A memory of one.

And a thought that didn't belong to her:

"I was supposed to end this.

But I think I want to know how it ends instead."

Somewhere in the silent dorms, a figure walked the hall.

They passed by Jun's door.

Then Kaen's.

Then Aro's.

They did not open any.

They just listened.

And for the first time since being created…

They hesitated.