Light sighed.
It was almost time for her shift to end at the coffee shop she worked in. She slowly scanned the room, watching the smiling faces and busy hands of customers shuffling in and out — all caught up in their own little lives.
One of her coworkers waved at her from behind the register, collecting orders with a practiced grin. She barely reacted. Her face remained still, distant, waiting for the small bell to chime — the one that would finally signal the end of her shift.
Another night. Another shift.
The smell of roasted beans clung to her hoodie, and as she stepped outside, the bell’s last chime echoed behind her like a heartbeat slowly fading.
She looked up.
The sky had grown darker, thick with clouds ready to burst. To avoid getting soaked, she decided to take the shortcut — a narrow alley that passed close to an old grove of trees.
The path was quiet. Overgrown branches swayed and whispered as the wind brushed past them.
She walked in silence.
Strangely, she already missed being behind the counter — not because she loved the job, but because it distracted her. Home was always too quiet. Too hollow.
At five years old, her parents’ marriage had dissolved in a storm of screaming matches and broken promises. Her mother had taken custody — a decision that might have seemed right at the time — but it hadn’t mattered for long.
Soon, her mom began coming home late.
Then later.
Eventually, she stopped pretending she needed to come home at all.
By the time she reached college, Light had already learned what it meant to raise yourself.
Her father? He never really spoke to her. He supported her financially, yes — creating a private account just for her, likely to stop her mother from burning through all the money. He’d even helped secure her apartment.
But that was it. No calls. No visits. No real conversations.
She wouldn’t recognize his voice if he called.
Now she worked not for survival, but for sanity — something to fill the time between reading books and escaping into video games. The only worlds that made sense to her.
No friends.
No mother.
No father.
No one.
Just Light.
She kept walking, her mind drifting through the echoes of her past, replaying scenes she could never change — wondering quietly if she had gone wrong somewhere.
And then she heard it.
Not loud. But sharp. Ragged. Not human.
She froze.
Her instincts screamed: Turn back.
But something inside whispered: Don’t leave them.
She stepped off the pavement… and into the trees.
---
The world blinked.
Colors dulled. The air turned warm and strangely thick. Time slowed, her breath suddenly louder in her ears.
And then — the shadows warped.
The ground rippled under her feet like glass bending beneath weight.
One more step, and it was like walking through a mirror.
Thin. Invisible. Cold.
She emerged into something else.
The forest was no longer the same. The trees were taller — unnaturally so — their silver-blue leaves glowing faintly, like stars suspended in branches. A soft fog blanketed the ground, curling around her ankles. Strange insects with glistening wings crawled and darted through the mist, humming in unnatural rhythms.
Light’s heart was sprinting, competing with the speed of light.
Her breaths came short and quick. The entire world had shifted — like she had stepped through a veil and into another dimension.
It felt… wrong.
She heard the sound again — that same cry, weaker now but still desperate. Clutching the last bit of courage she had, Light crept forward through the glowing underbrush, her eyes scanning every shadow.
That’s when she saw it.
A woman lay on the forest floor, her skin pale and slick with a strange, silvery-white liquid that pulsed like glowing sap, which came out of her. Around her stood three towering creatures — monstrous, boar-like beasts, their shoulders wide and hunched, their eyes glowing a deep, molten red.
They stood taller than any man.
Each walked on two legs but moved with a savage, animal rhythm.
Their arms ended in thick claws, and from their hands burned weapons made of flame and bone.
Light gasped.
The woman’s eyes flicked open — cloudy, pain-filled — and she raised a trembling hand, pointing toward the ground in front of Light.
A stick.
Small. Plain. Almost meaningless.
The woman’s lips barely moved, but Light read them clearly.
> “Pick it up.”
The creatures turned toward her, sniffing, snorting.
Their roars were low and wet, like fire boiling from a pit.
They moved in unison, claws dragging, mouths twisted into snarls as they closed in.
Light’s body screamed to run — but her legs wouldn’t move.
Her mind stuttered. Froze.
And then — on instinct,
Before she could think twice, she bent down and grabbed the stick.
It was warm.
It felt hot.
Then alive.
Power surged up her arm like lightning through her bones. The stick began to glow — not weakly, but blindingly — shifting and reshaping into something sleek and sharp.
A wand.
The light pulsed outward in a radiant shockwave, washing over the beasts.
They screeched — and in a breath, their bodies disintegrated into white dust, scattering like ash in the glowing mist.
It took Light a full sixty seconds to process what had just happened.
She stood frozen in place, the glowing wand still buzzing faintly in her hand. Her chest rose and fell with sharp, shallow breaths.
Fantasy games which were her favourite , never prepared her for this.
The fear began to fade — replaced by wonder. Then excitement.
But the moment shattered as reality crashed back into her thoughts.
The woman.
She rushed over, dropping to her knees beside her. The silvery-white liquid was still leaking from her wounds, flowing sluggishly — it wasn’t some magical essence.
It was her blood.
Light’s hands trembled as she examined the injuries. She had no idea what had caused them, or even if the woman was fully human. But none of it mattered.
She tore a strip from her own sleeve, pressing it to the wound as firmly as she dared. Her mind scrambled for anything useful — and thankfully, something clicked.
She thanked God in her mind that she went to first aid class.
She breathed a silent prayer as she wrapped the cloth tighter, stabilizing the bleeding. The woman stirred slightly, her fingers brushing the wand still resting beside Light.
Even with her body limp, she clutched the wand tightly — as if it were the only thing tethering her to this world.
And then, the sky opened.
Rain.
Hard. Cold. Relentless.
Water poured through the trees in sheets, soaking them both instantly. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Light gritted her teeth.
She couldn't leave the woman here — not in this storm, not after everything.
She knelt, hooked her arms under the woman’s shoulders, and with a strength she didn’t understand, lifted her onto her back.
Her knees almost gave out.
But she didn’t fall.
She took one step. Then another. And another.
---
She didn’t remember most of the journey. Only the pounding of rain in her ears, the squelch of mud beneath her shoes, the weight pressing on her spine. But she kept moving.
For the first time in her life, Light felt like she had a purpose.
A mission.
Not for grades. Not for money.
Just… to save someone.
She reached the nearby clinic, legs shaking, lungs burning. As she approached the glass doors, they slid open, and two nurses rushed out, shocked by the sight of the blood-soaked stranger on her back.
Light dropped to her knees as they took the woman from her arms.
Her vision blurred.
But before anyone could stop her — before they could ask questions — she turned and ran again, stumbling back toward the coffee shop.
---
She hoped her boss would be there but the shop was closed.
Of course it was.
She had planned to borrow money from her boss, hope was slowly dissapearing.
But she had her spare key.
She fumbled with the lock, hands slick with rain, and finally slipped inside.
Dark. Quiet.
She moved through the back room, searching — for what, she didn’t know. Money? Bandages? Something. Anything.
And then — it happened.
The power cut out.
A citywide blackout.
The room was swallowed by shadows in an instant. She spun, trying to get her bearings — and her foot caught on a crate.
She fell.
Her head struck the corner of the counter.
The world tilted. Slowed.
As she collapsed to the cold tile, everything faded into darkness — and her consciousness slipped away, just as the thunder roared again outside.
》Hospital《
The woman Light had saved now lay on a hospital bed, eyes open and calm. The nurses who brought her in had gone to fetch the doctor.
She reached for the wand resting beside her and closed her eyes.
A soft glow radiated from her hand. In an instant, her wounds vanished — skin mending, strength returning. With practiced ease, she stood, and a portal of soft blue light opened before her.
She stepped through.
---
》Coffee Shop《
Back in the quiet coffee shop, where shadows clung to corners and the scent of roasted beans still lingered, a glowing portal bloomed beside Light’s unconscious body.
The woman emerged.
She walked forward and gently knelt beside Light, cradling her head in her lap. Her hand began to glow faintly as it hovered over the wound. With a pulse of magic, the bleeding stopped. The swelling faded.
From her back, transparent, shimmering wings unfurled — elegant and otherworldly.
> “My name is Sparkle,” she whispered softly. “Thank you for saving me.
I am a fairy. It will all be fine.”
Her voice was thin, calming, like wind chimes in warm air.
Light’s eyes fluttered open. She squinted at the figure above her.
> “I always imagined fairies to be… smaller,” she chuckled weakly.
Then, with a faint smile:
> “At least I saved that woman…”
Her eyes closed again.
Sparkle hugged her gently.
> “It’s okay,” she murmured. “Don’t give up. I feel sadness in your heart… but also a great amount of love.
A soul like yours — beautiful, broken, brave — can’t die.”
The fairy smiled and began to vanish, leaving behind a soft cascade of glowing dust. The sparkling particles drifted over Light’s body like snowflakes — and where they touched, life returned.
The door to the coffee shop creaked open.
---
》In Light’s Dream《
Light found herself standing in a strange, glowing realm.
There was no sky. No horizon. Just a soft haze of light — warm and dreamlike. She walked slowly, drawn by instinct, until a shape appeared ahead.
A small coffee shop.
Rustic. Quiet. A sign swinging gently above the door.
She stepped inside.
Behind the counter stood a tall elf, his silver hair tied loosely, his fingers delicately pouring coffee into a porcelain cup.
> “Welcome, ma’am,” the elf said with a small nod. “What would you like today?”
Light blinked. “Is this… heaven?”
The elf chuckled. “Of course not. Heaven is sure to be more beautiful than this boring place.
This is nothing more than a space for people who need a sip of something warm.”
She sat at the nearest table, confused, trying to piece everything together.
The elf glanced at her, still pouring.
> “Coffee is interesting, isn’t it?”
“…Uhh… maybe.”
> “Bitterness and sweetness,” he said calmly. “Life and coffee are both bitter at first.
But when brewed right, they become rich — full of depth. Growth through pain.”
Light’s voice cracked. “I… I don’t know what’s going on.
I just want to get out of here.”
She stood suddenly, overwhelmed.
The elf approached her slowly and offered her a cup of coffee.
> “Then leave.”
He placed the cup gently on the table and sat across from her, smiling softly.
> “The fairy tried to save you. But your wish to die… that’s what’s keeping you here.”
Light’s hands trembled. Her eyes watered.
The elf stood, turning back toward the counter.
> “You know,” he said over his shoulder,
“coffee doesn’t start sweet. You brew it. You shape it. Then you add a little sugar.
Honey. Cream. That’s life too — bitter at first… until the right people help you make it better.”
Tears ran down Light’s cheeks. She looked at the steaming cup on the table.
And then — she smiled.
> “Thank you…”
---
》Back in the Real World《
Light slowly opened her eyes. A gentle warmth spread through her chest, her fingers twitching. She felt fabric under her hands — and arms around her body.
She looked up.
Mike — her coworker — was carrying her, a frantic look on his face as he hurried toward the street.
> “You’re awake!” he gasped, nearly dropping her in surprise.
“Are you okay? You were bleeding… I—I didn’t know what happened.”
She looked at him, dazed but alive. Her lips curled faintly.
> “Yeah… I’m fine.” Her voice was soft. “Can we go inside? It’s cold.”
Mike hesitated, still trying to process the fact she was speaking at all.
Then he smiled.
> “Sure.”
He adjusted his grip and gently carried her back into the coffee shop.
