The night air bit at his skin as Anza sipped the last of his coffee. The café was nearly empty now, with only one server left, tidying up the scattered tables. The warm glow of the hanging lights illuminated his half-empty cup, leaving a dark stain inside.
Outside, the rain still poured heavily, soaking the pavement and streets that now shimmered under the streetlights. He stared at his phone—the screen reflected his tired face, and behind the app icons was the faint image of a smiling woman. His mother. For a moment, Anza's gaze hardened, then shifted to the list of unread notifications, trying to distract himself. Messages from clients were still lined up, Hana's text was left unanswered, and his head was pounding.
It was nearly half-past eleven when the last server began switching off lights in several corners of the café. Anza sighed, grabbed his jacket, and stepped outside. As the glass door closed behind him, a wave of cold hit him instantly.
He walked quickly, dodging puddles along the sidewalk. His jacket was already damp, and his sneakers soaked after stepping into a small pool by the curb.
Then, amidst the rain that muffled almost every other sound, he heard something.
Thud.
A heavy noise, like something falling to the ground. Anza stopped.
His eyes scanned the area, trying to locate the source. The street was empty, only rows of streetlights reflecting off the wet asphalt and shut storefronts. But the sound came again—softer this time, followed by labored breathing.
He turned toward a narrow alley to his left. Dark and silent. The back doors of several shops lined the narrow passage, the air reeking of wet asphalt and a faint metallic scent from rusty pipes.
"Don't get involved, Anza," he muttered to himself.
But his curiosity refused to be silenced. Something deep inside told him someone—or something—needed help. Hesitantly, he stepped into the alley.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw it.
A small figure lay sprawled in the middle of the wet path. At first, he thought it was just a bird or a stray cat. But as he stepped closer, his breath caught.
The creature wasn't like anything he had ever seen.
Tiny, almost the size of a kitten, with golden fur now soaked and matted with blood. Small wings drooped at its sides, limp and torn in several places. And most striking of all, a small arrow was lodged deep in its shoulder, its silver tip glinting under the dim streetlight.
Anza swallowed hard.
"What is this...?" he whispered, unable to look away from the fragile figure.
His heart raced. He tried to rationalize—maybe it was a hallucination, a dream? Or maybe he was just exhausted? But no, this was real. Warm blood was seeping onto his shoe, and the creature's shallow breaths were unmistakably real.
Slowly, the creature lifted its head.
A pair of large eyes stared back—filled with pain, yet piercing, as if peering straight into his soul. And in that moment, Anza felt something he couldn't explain. Like a thread pulling them together, something deeper than a mere encounter.
The creature tried to move, but only managed a blink before slumping back down, completely drained.
Anza crouched, hesitantly reaching out. Up close, he could see it more clearly: golden fur that shimmered faintly like stardust, and wings with patterns that looked almost mystical.
"I don't know if you're an animal, a tiny bird, or some kind of mythical being…" he muttered, half to himself. "But you definitely need help."
The creature let out a faint sound—not an ordinary animal sound, but something deeper, almost like a signal.
Anza bit his lip, pulled out his phone, and quickly typed a message to Hana.
Anza:
"Hana, I found something. I need help. Don't ask anything. I'll be home soon."
Without another thought, he took off his jacket and carefully wrapped the tiny creature. He could feel its warmth fading, reinforcing the urgency in his chest.
Gently, he lifted it into his arms and held it close. The rain kept falling, soaking his face and jacket, but he didn't care.
He had to get this creature home.
Whatever it was, whoever was after it, and however it ended up in this world—Anza knew one thing.
He couldn't just leave it behind.