Threadless : A growing novel

"Not all transfer students come from another school.

Some arrive from parts of the story you were never meant to read."

The teacher introduced the new arrival like it was any other morning.

"In addition to our current class list," Instructor Lira said, "we will be welcoming an exchange student from the Northern Branch.

They specialize in emotional memory refinement. Please make them feel... integrated."

The word 'welcome' hovered on her tongue, but she didn't say it.

Instead, the door opened — and Elu stepped in.

Elu was quiet, tall, wearing the same uniform as the others — but with subtle distortions:

A violet-tinted lens over the left eye

A threadweaver's badge from a division no one had heard of

And hair laced with white silk strands like natural thread

They didn't speak at first.

They only looked directly at Rin.

And smiled.

Not out of friendliness — but recognition.

Jun leaned toward Mei. "Did that person just nod at the future?"

Mei said nothing. She was staring at Elu's shadow.

It wasn't matching their movements.

Later, during thread exercises, Aro dropped her toolkit.

Elu picked it up — and handed her a spool that wasn't in the kit.

"You used to use this one," Elu said gently.

"You were better with violet-thread tension."

Aro's heart froze.

The thread felt like a memory of touch.

"How do you know that?" she asked.

"I remember things from before I arrived."

Elu smiled again.

"You and I knew someone once."

In the instructor's lounge, Lira frowned at her ledger.

There was no record of Elu's transfer.

The name had been written in — in someone else's handwriting.

Her own pen didn't match.

"...Threadwriter," she whispered.

She erased the page.

But the name reappeared in a different color.

After class, Rin followed Elu to the courtyard.

He didn't say anything.

Elu turned to him and simply asked:

"Do you remember his name yet?"

Rin opened his mouth — but the sound fractured into static.

He couldn't speak.

Elu nodded.

"Soon."

And beneath the school, in a room with no doors, the chalk figure on the wall now had eyes.

Not drawn.

Real.

Watching.