Threadless : A growing novel

"Some truths are too loud to say.

So we hide them in the quietest places."

Rin held the threaded key in both hands like it could vanish if she blinked too hard.

It pulsed once.

Not with light — but with something deeper, like a breath from a story that hadn't finished its sentence.

Back in their shared room, the silence felt protective.

Aro knelt by the floorboards near Rin's bed.

"We can't keep it exposed," he said.

"Whatever this key does… it's already being tracked."

"I don't think we can destroy it either," Rin added.

"It's not just a key. It's... a person."

Aro hesitated.

"Do you really believe that?"

"No," she said.

"But I remember it."

They pried open the old storage space beneath the floor.

Dust, faded scrolls, and a single thread loom that hadn't been used in years.

Aro placed the key inside, wrapped in soft cloth.

As he did, something whispered in their ears — not a voice, but a feeling:

"You are closer now than you've ever been."

That night, neither of them slept well.

Rin dreamt of a staircase made of thread, leading into darkness.

She walked down, hand brushing the wall — until she saw a figure at the bottom.

He had no face.

But he had her laugh.

And he was holding a thread spool.

Meanwhile, Aro dreamt of a river of erased ink.

He stood on the edge, watching memories float backward.

At the center of the river, a boy sat on a threadboat — calmly smiling.

"You remember things too slowly," the boy said.

"But that's alright. I'm not in a rush this time."

The next morning, the academy was silent.

Too silent.

In the hall, Kaen met them with urgency.

"Something's changing. The teachers—"

"—they're re-running your schedules."

"What?" Rin asked.

"They're starting to reset loops," Kaen said.

"You need to decide fast. Are we hiding this?

Or are we going to finish what he started?"

Aro looked at Rin.

Rin looked at her wrist.

The silver thread bracelet pulsed.

"We go forward," she said.

"But quietly."

She touched the floorboard again before they left.

The key inside pulsed back.