The Red String of Fate

"An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but it will never break."

-Chinese Proverb

"Grandma, grandma!" a little girl with braided honey-gold hair exclaimed. "Looky here! I'm done!" Standing up from her cross-legged sitting position on the carpet, she waved a white fabric that had colourful cross-stitched patterns on it.

The elderly woman, seated at the rocking chair by the living room window with her gray hair elegantly curled just below her shoulders, halted doing her embroidery to have a look at her granddaughter's craft. "Why, Relena, this is so touching." She held the fabric with cross-stitched patterns of stars, clouds, hearts, and several other shapes at the border, and at the middle was the cross-stitched "I love Grandma," with the word love being represented by the heart pattern. "Grandma Katrina also loves you, dear."

Holding the red thread attached to the needle that still hung at the fabric, Katrina said, "Relena, do you know about the red string of fate?"

Relena, with her hands behind her, came closer to her grandmother and eyed the red thread. She shook her head. "No, grandma. What is it about?"

"It's an East Asian belief. The Japanese people believe that there is an invisible red thread that is tied to the pinky fingers of two people," Katrina explained, lifting Relena's hand to touch her pinky finger. "And that these two people, no matter what the circumstance, will find each other and be together. In China, they believe they're connected by the ankles."

"The pinky finger?" Relena asked, eyeing her pinky. "If it's invisible, then how will the couple know that they haven't mixed it up with another thread?"

"That's a good question." Katrina laughed. "I guess then the couple will just feel it when they finally meet. And remember, the thread doesn't break. No matter how it gets tangled with somebody else's thread, the two people will still find each other."

"And be together," Relena finished, also sliding her fingers to the length of the red thread on the fabric. "Did you feel it when you met grandfather?"

"Oh, yes." Katrina beamed, turning to the moon at the night sky. "Yes, I did."

"This happened to mom and dad, too, right?"

Katrina looked at her granddaughter. "But of course. And then they had you." The elderly woman placed her hand on Relena's head, massaging her scalp.

Relena closed her eyes at the comfort of her grandmother's fingers on her hair. "Will I also find that person who also has my red string? I want to be happy like you and grandpa, and mom and dad."

"Of course you will," Katrina said. "Finding each other and being in a relationship aren't always smooth-sailing, but when you're destined for each other, everything will still work out." She stopped her ministrations on Relena's head, but her hand still lingered there. Relena opened her eyes. Katrina continued, "But my dear, you're still eight years old. Way too young. You don't have to go looking for him. Someday you will meet him, probably when you least expect it."

And it was her grandmother's words, and the tale of the red string of fate that had aided Relena's decision ten years later.

While seated on the bed, she waited until her grandmother left her room after she was given a new set of acrylic paint as a gift for having a won in their school's art contest. When her grandmother had already left her room, Relena Darlian immediately pulled out a duffel bag she often used for volleyball trainings.

With haste, she grabbed a handful of clothes from her pink cabinet across the room and stuffed them neatly in her bag, careful enough to arrange them to make room for more stuff. After her clothes, she fumbled through her dresser drawers for toiletries and other necessities, and stuck them in Ziplocs and other small plastic bags, before stuffing them in the duffel bag. She then undressed her house clothes, and put on a shirt, jeans, and sneakers. She also wore a cap on and kept her golden tresses down.

Taking one last look on the bed where the gift her grandmother gave her laid, Relena grabbed it and stuffed in her bag, along with a paintbrush on the bedside drawer. She checked her wallet for cash and added more after taking more bills from the drawer before giving herself an approval to carry on with her mission.

After living for eighteen years in this mansion, Relena perfectly knew how everything in the house worked. She knew that the lights inside were turned off at 11 p.m., she knew that her parents, grandmother and house helpers would also be asleep by then, she knew where the surveillance cameras were located so she avoided them without breaking a sweat, she knew also where she could play with the cables of the cameras so the one that was pointed to their gate was switched off, and she knew at what time the guards did their rounds inside and outside of the premises so in no time, before she could even comprehend what she had been doing in less than thirty minutes, she was out of the Darlian estate.

Half of Newport City was alive at night. Cars still rustled and bustled even late at night, people still wandered the streets, and clubs and bars were packed with teenagers and adults alike. Walking through the huge Capital city of the country of Sanc, Relena found it hard to believe that she had lived here all her life.

As a child who was groomed by her parents to be the perfect woman, Relena seldom found herself outside the house after school because of her strict curfew. The loud booming speakers from one of the bars she passed by irritated her ears for a while, but she knew this was the price of the freedom she had attained for herself, and before she knew it, it was truly music to her ears.

With her heart still pounding for what she had done, Relena felt a cold sweat on her temple. Deciding to buy herself some soda, she then entered the nearest convenient store that she saw. At the counter, Relena cursed under her breath as she looked over her wallet stuffed with huge amount of bills and no coins at all.

The cashier, a chubby red-haired woman with freckles, tapped her fingers on the cash register impatiently as she watched the blonde teenager fumble through her huge wallet. At a small convenient store such as this, change was hard to give for those who paid in huge sums of money. Relena suddenly considered buying everything in the store.

Slightly pressured by the situation, with Relena almost considering not buying anything at all, a man behind her said, "I have change."

Relena was surprised when a hand tapped hers that held her wallet, and on it were coins. "Thank you." Flustered, she took the coins from the outstretched palm and handed it to the cashier, who shook her head. When she got her drink, she turned to the man next in line – the one who had helped her.

He was facing the cashier and was paying for a cigarette case. Though she could only his side, she found herself even more flustered than a few minutes ago. He had dark brown hair with some of his bangs hanging over his eyes, he had slightly darker complexion than hers, his nose wasn't as pointed as the people in Sanc, but she found her eyes hovering over his fine, jaw line. He was wearing a black leather jacket with a white shirt underneath, and jeans.

When he had gotten his purchase of the night and was about to exit the store, he inevitably locked eyes with her. It was the first time that she had seen eyes like his – Prussian blue ones. He was gorgeous. And at that moment, Relena found it truly hard to pull her eyes away from him.

"I'll pay you for this," Relena said, holding out the soda can.

"It's fine," the man said sternly, face devoid of emotion. He was a bit taller than she was, and with his youthful features, he, too probably had the same age as hers. Approaching her, he said, "You don't have to." And then he exited the store.

Turning on her heels, Relena watched as he drove away on a motorcycle, the wind blowing his musky scent to her direction, making her wish that she could see him again.

Later in the evening, Relena found herself in a bar. It was one of the first things that popped out of her mind to go to as soon as she had left their mansion, for it was her first time ever entering one. Having just turned eighteen and had just rebelled from her family, she thought that this was the natural thing to do.

She had never tried drinking before. To her recollection, she had only even drank wine whenever her father, who was also the Vice Foreign Minister of the Earth Sphere, would hold gatherings in their homes, as well as on other special occasions and holidays.

The bar had relatively fewer people as opposed to the ones she first passed by, but was still crowded nonetheless. The loud music boomed from the speakers and everybody was going wild at the dance floor on the other side. Cigarette smoke lingered inside, its scent sticking onto her hair and clothes. And she did not mind at all.

Seated on the stool at the counter, with her bag on the floor, the brunette bar tender handed her a third glass of margarita. Twirling the glass with her hand, she thought of what happened in her house hours before she left. Images of their dining table with her father and mother seated across from her and her grandmother penetrated her thoughts.

It was a happy dinner time, she thought. Her parents had been satisfied with her latest test exam scores and award-winning painting. The good vibes lasted until her parents brought up about her future... again.

"Relena," her father said. He was a brunette with a neatly groomed beard and mustache. "Do you remember about our talk about your future?"

She turned to her father, knowing where the conversation was headed. She gripped the utensils tightly. "Yes."

"Tomorrow when your class is finished, Pagan will pick you up. We will have dinner at a Chinese restaurant. It's about time you meet your fiancé," her father said authoritatively.

"No," Relena said. "I'm not yet ready to meet him." She turned from her father who had an icy gaze, to her mother who almost looked sorry for her. "I keep on saying this; I'm not yet ready for marriage!"

"Watch your tone, young lady," her father said. "We've talked about this several times already. This is for your future."

Her mother, whose hair was neatly arranged into a bun behind her, said, "The family you're marrying in to is a good family, and they will ensure that..."

"More money will be generated. It's all about money," Relena interjected. "I don't want to marry someone for money!"

"Relena!" her father exclaimed.

"Michael, for goodness sake, watch your tone, as well! You're scaring the child!" Katrina, his mother-in-law, said, rubbing Relena's back.

Michael Darlian drew in a breath, closed his eyes, and tried to compose himself. And then Relena said, "Allow me to go to an art school in college, and I'll marry this guy, whoever he is."

The fire that Michael had tried to suppress burned once more. "No. You will be taking a business course..."

"You're deciding both MY career and MY marriage! That's unfair. If you're going to marry me off to someone I don't even know, then at least let me do what I want the most!"

Gulping down the margarita in one go, Relena's head swam. She desperately wanted to forget the moment she walked out of the dining room, her father slapping her as she firmly said that she would not meet her fiancé and even the pleading of her grandmother on her behalf.

Relena bit her lower lip as tears began to well up in her eyes. Just then, someone sat beside her. "Hey miss; you're a new face here."

Relena gave him a look and turned away. He was a tall, blonde man with hair styled with so much gel and combed to the extent that all of the strands were directed to the back of his head. He was grinning at her with an air of arrogance and maliciousness that made Relena want to barf in that instant.

"A snobby one we've got here," he said. "Do you want another drink?" He motioned to the bartender for another drink.

Pinching the bridge of her nose with her pointing finger and thumb, her head pounded, Relena said, "I'm fine, thank you."

Her head pounded again, wondering if she had inhaled too much smoke or if was because of the drink, but she started to get dizzy. The man beside her stood and touched her arm. "You don't look too well, Princess. Would you like to go to my place..."

"I'm fine," Relena said, pulling his arm away from her. "Please leave me alone."

She got up from the stool and was about to pick her bag until a hand grabbed her wrist. Relena shook it away forcefully as a reflex, knocking over the new drink that the bartender served. "Don't touch me!"

Fire burned in the man's eyes. He held out his hand once more to grab both of her wrists in one swipe and pinned her against the counter. "Fiery, aren't you?" the man said, glaring at her, reeking of alcohol.

"Hey, hey, hey! What's going on?" The bartender exclaimed, his voice drowned by the loud music.

Relena wriggled from his grasp. "Maniac," she said.

"Why you!" the man raised his arm to hit her.

Relena closed her eyes, anticipating the blow on her face. When there was none a few seconds later, she opened her eyes to see her captor cry out in agony. She noticed the man beside her captor, and her eyes widened at the sight of the man from the convenience store earlier.

Her savior was holding the arm of her captor, probably too tightly, looking as if he was almost crushing the bones of the man.

The blonde's hands then released her hands. "Stop, stop, stop!" he cried out. "I'll leave!"

The man from the convenience store then let go of the blonde, who clutched his arm as if to check if he was still in one piece. The blonde gave a frightening look at the man who had almost crushed his arm and fled the bar.

Relena watched as her savior fish out money from his jeans pocket and placed it on the table, paying her drink for the second time that night. He then leaned to pick up Relena's duffel bag, much to her surprise, and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her without a word, through the sea of dancing, drunk, people until they were out of the bar. The door closed behind them, slightly muting the sound of the speakers.

Relena followed the man absent-mindedly until they were by the sidewalk. He handed her, her bag. "Here. Are you alright?"

Seeming as though she had just woken up from a dream, Relena nodded, her headache returning. "Thank you. You're from the convenience store earlier. It's the second time you've helped me, thank you." She smiled at him, ignoring the trembling of her body, not knowing whether it was from the cold or from her handsome savior's close proximity.

The man nodded, acknowledging her gratitude. "I was around. I may not be around for the third time you're going to be in trouble."

A moment of silence awkward silence hung around them as cold as the breeze that blew.

"I should go," the man said, heading towards his motorcycle. "You better go home, as well, lady. Clearly, you're not the type who frequent bars."

Relena nodded, knowing well that she could and would not go home. And that going to any of her friends' houses or just even giving them a call will just involve them in this mess that she had created. She had not even got this part of her mission straightened out. When they figure it out, she knew her family would not announce her disappearance publicly, for it will taint the image of her father when they reveal that she had left because of her parents' manipulation of her life. But she was also aware that her family, who owned and had relations with every hotel and inn in the city, would track her down and she will not last a day if she ever checked in one of them.

Despite that, as of the moment, the man in front of her was her concern. He was leaving again, and that very thought of being alone scared her, though she did not show it.

The man looked at her as she watched him put on his helmet. When he got on the motorcycle, Relena called him, "Hey."

He turned to her and waited for what she had to say.

"What's your name?" Relena asked.

The man blinked. "Heero," he said. "It's Heero."

"Heero," Relena repeated, and smiled. "Thank you, Heero."

"Hn," Heero nodded, and kicked the motorcycle alive before speeding off into the streets.

Relena watched as the man named Heero was out of sight. The wind blew once more, and she still could breathe in his musky scent. She then lifted her hand so her middle finger and thumb could massage her temples, fighting back the tears that had welled up in her eyes. This had been an eventful day.

Moments later, a sound of a roaring motorcycle in front of her surprised her. She opened her eyes and removed her hand that obstructed her view from the person in front of her. And there she was again, locking eyes with Heero, who just got off from his bike.

"Where do you live?" he asked her.

"What?"

"Where do you live?" He repeated. "I'll take you there. It's dangerous for a woman like you to wander alone in Newport."

"I.." Relena sought for the right words to say. Can she just blatantly say that she just left her home?

Heero watched the woman in front of him avert her gaze from his, suddenly missing the blue of her eyes. He saw her ball her hand on her chest, while her other one gripped the duffel bag tightly. He eyed the bag critically, and for a moment, he understood her intentions.

"You don't want to check in someplace else?" Heero asked.

Relena turned to him once more, feeling that he had seen through her. "I can't," she replied. "But I'll be fine. It's okay."

Taking the helmet from the motorcycle, Heero tossed it to Relena. "Put it on."

Eyeing the helmet, Relena asked, "What's the meaning of this?"

"It means you'll have to get on the bike. I know a place where you can stay," Heero answered, now getting on the motorbike. When his companion had not moved any closer to him, he turned to her. "If you want to freeze out here, it's fine. But my conscience will not be." He sighed when the woman still did not move a muscle, his eyes softened. "Trust me."

Relena did not know what compelled her to move her feet towards this man, whom she had just met, but there was just this gut feeling inside her that told her that she will be fine with him, that he will not hurt her, that she can indeed trust him. After all, he had saved her twice on one night. This would be the third.

She then finally put on the helmet. When she stood beside him, he removed his leather jacket and handed it to her. "No, no. I'm fine. I don't need it."

"Your body seems to tell otherwise," Heero said, still holding his jacket, waiting for her to accept. "You keep on trembling."

Relena bit her lip, a gesture that confirmed his observation.

"I'm used to driving out on cold nights like this. It's not a big deal."

Nodding, Relena grabbed his jacket and wore it. His scent filled her senses, making her thoughts swim in all directions. Or maybe she was just too tired.

"Get on," Heero said when Relena had freed her golden hair under his jacket.

He took the liberty of slipping her heavy bag on his shoulder when Relena sat behind him. He then felt her shivering hands hesitate on where to put it, afraid that she will invade his personal space.

"You can hold on to me," Heero said. "As tightly as you want."

Taking up the advice, Relena wrapped her arms around his waist, feeling the heat and chiselled physique of his body underneath the shirt, which made her blush. She felt the motorbike go alive once more, and then they were on the streets.

As they passed by bars, restaurants, and residential houses from one street to another with the wind blowing their hair, Relena felt her headache go away and was replaced by this feeling of freedom and security she had not thought she would feel when leaving home. Still tired, she let her eyes drift shut and leaned her cheek on the back of this stranger, whom she had entrusted her life with tonight.

Before losing her consciousness, Relena thought of her grandmother who will probably be hysterical when they find out that she had left. Her grandma Katrina had always been superstitious. She had also always said that "Bad luck comes in three." But to Relena, being helped by this man thrice in a night, maybe good luck also comes in three.

Author's Note:

Hi! How to explain this? Ummm, I know I once said to myself that I won't write any more multi-chaptered fics until I finish my other pending stories. But this one's just been knocking on my head for quite some time now, so I just had to write it.

I plan for this story to be short, since it's just a segway from my other stories. But we'll never know. Haha. I'm never good at predicting the number of chapters left to finish.

I hope you guys liked this one! I'm enthusiastic about this. Haha.

That's all for now! Take care! :)