MOONROUND Cafe is packed with the usual customers: Men in their business attire discussing business with their colleagues, random people who typically meet other people in the shop to get to know each other, and a bunch of undergrads with visible eyebags and exhaustion. Hyacinth sometimes wondered if the undergrads were stressed from academic presentations or the lack of sleep from it. Hyacinth wouldn’t know. She never went to school to know the struggles and the pressure. She was home-schooled.

Hyacinth cleaned the empty tables and sanitized the brown leather of the couch. After that, she proceeded to do the same with the table near the entrance.

She could hear the rain outside the closed glass doors. It is a good thing that she lived nearby. She forgot to bring an umbrella today even though Sutton City—the capital of the country of Northern Isles—is famous for its cloudy weather throughout the year. The sun rarely comes out from behind the clouds. Others considered it a curse, especially for poor people, because they can’t dry their laundry well. Others considered the gloomy and rainy weather as a blessing because it helped to wash the stinky, cockroach-infested streets.

“Haya!”

She immediately turned to look at the owner of the familiar voice. It is Jean Baden, secretary to the owner of the Bismarck Group of Companies.

“My felicitations, Jean. How’s your honeymoon?”

Jean’s cheek reddened. “Oh, Hyacinth. Andrei is the most amazing man.”

Hyacinth smirked. “Said by the woman who stabbed Andrei behind his back months ago.” She remembered the few months when Jean criticized Andrei for being approachable and charming while serving the cafe’s customers. Jean said that Andrei is very much a fuck boy, no doubt about it.

Hyacinth smiled. Jean tends to badmouth whenever she feels extreme emotions but she knew deep inside her that Jean is the nicest person there is. Jean is loyal to the bone and will sacrifice her life for loyalty.

“I’m telling you, Haya, he has stabbed me countless times recently so we’re even.” Jean implied her sentence in a sexual way that Hyacinth’s nose wrinkled. She sometimes wished that she could relate to her friend’s jokes.

Hyacinth hugged Jean with all the love she could muster from her chest, her hand gloved with the classic rubber gloves from her cleaning cart. “I am happy for you both.”

“My parents thought of me as stupid for marrying a bartender so we’re not gonna go home on the weekends. If they can’t see my happiness with Andrei, then the both of them can go to hell.”

Hyacinth almost forgot that Jean’s expertise is badmouthing other people easily, especially when she’s angry.

Hyacinth’s irises dilated when she saw a glistening thread dangling behind Jean’s back. She only touched it a few times to find out necessary information regarding her friend out of concern. In this case, she touched the glistening thread to find out if Jean’s relationship with Andrei will be a happy one or not. As soon as Hyacinth saw Jean and Andrei growing old together watching their grandkids nearby a lake, she convinced her friend to pursue Andrei. Hyacinth’s opinions regarding some important matters are never neglected by her small circle of friends, especially when Hyacinth’s opinions are always correct.

Hyacinth can see the future or the past just by touching a glistening thread on a person’s back. It is an invisible thread that is half-meter long, with its end dangling like a dog’s tail but thinner. It sways when a person moves.

She’s not really a fan of looking at other people’s threads. There’s this constant fear that she might see a black thread. Hyacinth knew very well that she’ll be miserable for weeks if she saw one again.

A dangling black thread signifies death within the day. That’s why.

Hyacinth can look into someone’s past or future whenever she touched those threads. That’s why she always wore her cleaning gloves whenever she worked or she sometimes wears leather gloves whenever she walks outside, afraid that she might accidentally touch someone’s thread and read into their pasts or future.

Her ability to peek into the past and the future is dangerous when it landed in the wrong hands. It can cause an information war among countries. It can be used as a tool for blackmail. It is an ability that can be used as a destructive tool if misused.

Jean proceeded to go to the counter and ordered three frappes and one milkshake. Hyacinth waved goodbye to Jean.

Her heart hammered when she saw a teenage girl with a black thread on her back, standing near the Bismarck Building’s revolving glass doors. The girl with the thread of death and Hyacinth saw the girl’s profile. The girl—woman—is in her twenties, based on her calculations. The young woman waved in Jean’s direction, it’s ebony hair flowed like waves as the wind caressed her face.

A black thread signifies death. That stranger will die today.

Behind the girl is a man in smart attire—white long sleeves and pants and black shoes. His bronze arm showed its veins as he held his phone in the other hand and a stack of papers in the other. He appeared to be a busy man who unexpectedly had to deal with a spoiled brat.

Hyacinth recognized the man as Maximillian Bismarck, the owner of the fifty-story building nearby the coffee shop. He seldom goes outside in the busy afternoon but when he does, everyone steers clear. Well, Hyacinth can’t blame them. The man’s presence is intimidating, to say the least. Hyacinth can feel the superiority radiating from the man even if he’s five meters away. With the entrance of the Moonround Cafe across from the entrance to the Bismarck Building, Hyacinth has an excellent view of how Jean proceeded to talk to Mr. Bismarck.

The girl with the black thread snatched the milkshake from the coffee carrier that Jean held.

According to Jean, the owner is quite approachable if one is not scared of his presence. But for Hyacinth, the man’s intimidating aura comes from his profile. His brows are thick and always clashing, causing two wrinkles between the brows. His gaze is sharp and calculating with those electric-blue eyes and his body strongly built. If only Hyacinth could touch the thread on his back, she would. Oh, how she wanted to find out the man’s daily exercise and diet. Maybe she can finally gain some muscles.

Mr. Bismarck turned around to talk to a man in, business attire that happened to be passing by and said something, giving Hyacinth a good view of Mr. Bismarck’s back.

Her face turned pale when the thread on his back turned ashen gray.

Gray means sacrifice... and in this type of situation, if a thread reader like her sees a glistening thread turn into ashen gray, an accident, or murder typically happens within minutes. Hyacinth only saw a gray thread of fate once and she had to look away before she could see the horrible events that come with the thread.

There’s no mistaking it. The man will sacrifice his life within a minute to save another human being.

She cursed under her breath. Maybe the girl with the black thread will get involved in an accident. And Mr. Bismarck will save the girl.

Hyacinth looked the other way. Her heart rammed against her chest. A thread-reader like her should not interfere with the threads of fate. The last time she did, an innocent man died. She should not interfere.

But her feet started moving.

She went outside with ground-eating strides, frantically opening the glass doors of the cafe and shoving passers-by out of the way. She reached the girl in time and proceeded to drag the girl and Mr. Bismarck inside the building. Jean clasped her arm in terror and asked her something, maybe “Are you okay, Haya?“. Hyacinth wouldn’t know. She’s too busy dragging the two protesting human beings with black and gray threads inside the building.

After a few seconds, a truck crashed on the building’s entrance and is stopped by the walls. The revolving doors of the Bismarck Building shattered and the employees panicked to back away from the accident area, hitting Hyacinth and the girl in her arms.

Hyacinth’s body trembled in shock not because of the accident but because of her impulsive actions.

Mr. Bismarck immediately dropped the stack of papers in his hand and hugged Hyacinth in an attempt to protect her from the stampede—no, scratch that. Of course, it is the girl in Hyacinth’s arms that he was trying to protect.

Hyacinth felt Jean’s hand clutching her arm. It is a good thing that Jean followed Maximillian and the girl the moment Hyacinth dragged the two inside.

Jean could’ve suffered major injuries but she’ll not die. Jean doesn’t have a black thread when she bought coffee from the cafe a few minutes ago. Jean could’ve suffered from injuries if Hyacinth didn’t move and saved the Bismarck guy and the kid.

Hyacinth trembled in fear and exhaled a sigh of relief, embracing the girl in her arms. She can’t hear anything other than a high-pitched buzz. Her temples throbbed and pulsed and her limbs felt numb. Cold sweat trickled from her temples and she swallowed...hard. The pain stung the sensitive corners of her head to the point that it was almost unbearable.

And everything went black.

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