He nearly spits out the long draw of coffee he’s taken. “Well—I—yes,” he sputters, choking. Great job, he thinks. Very smooth. Even better than falling to the floor and saying “errrgkkk.”

“Hmm,” Kisa hums, calmly taking another sip. “Why?”

The café hustles and bustles around them, cheerful jazz music playing on the speakers. Meanwhile, Seokga is frantically dabbing at his suit with a napkin and trying not to hyperventilate. “Why?”

“Yes. I mean, statistically, apparitions of the Red Thread of Fate are minuscule. I would estimate them to be less than one percent. The last Threaded couple was rumored to be centuries ago, and even then, they were allegedly both gods. I assume you know who I’m referring to?”

“Haemosu and Yuhwa,” Seokga mutters, remembering that particular fiasco. Relations between Haemosu and Yuhwa’s father, Habaek, are still frosty at best.

“There must be a reason we’re Threaded,” Kisa continues, tracing invisible words that look awfully like an entire paragraph on the table with her index finger. “So far, I’ve come up with a few hypotheses but narrowed it down to the one that makes the most sense logically.”

“And that is?” he breathes.

She meets his eyes and cocks her head, frowning slightly. “You knew me in a past life,” she says, pausing in her scribbling. “We fell in love, then I died. You were looking for me. The Red Thread of Fate manifested on March twenty-fourth, 2018, which was—coincidentally—the day that I died in this life. In accordance with what I know of the red thread, it may manifest at an emotionally fraught time. For example, Yuhwa and Haemosu became Threaded in the middle of running away from her father, Habaek. That’s why it manifested on my death day. It could sense…something.” Kisa takes an idle sip of her coffee as Seokga lurches forward in his seat.

Does she remember? Does she—

“Before you ask,” Kisa says primly, “no, I don’t remember anything. But I’ve learned a little about my past life. You seem like the type of person who would fall in love with a woman who is very good at stealing money from ATMs. I based my working theory off that. Although I’m sorry to tell you that I’ve never stolen anything before.” She hesitates. “Also, I did read an issue of Godly Gossip, once. When I was ill. Not that it wasn’t academically stimulating, in its own sort of way, but…” Kisa clears her throat. “You were in love with a gumiho, weren’t you? During the nineties’ Dark Days?”

Seokga has become aware that he is making a wheezing sound, and really does try to stop. It is, unfortunately, impossible. “Yes,” he manages to whisper.

Kisa nods, looking thoughtful. “So I suppose I was her? Or, she is me? Rebirth philosophy is such a convoluted field. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of the Ship of Theseus problem?”