The apartment door creaked open with a gentle push, the hinges letting out a soft squeak. Anza hurried in, cradling the small golden-furred creature wrapped in his jacket with one hand. The dim lights of the living room greeted him, illuminating a space still as messy as he had left it.
Bills scattered across the table, dirty dishes piled up in the sink, and a heap of unwashed laundry slumped in the corner. But tonight, none of that mattered.
He walked over to the sofa and gently placed the small creature down. Its breathing was shallow, wings still limp. The once-lustrous golden fur now looked matted and dirty, with patches of dried blood around the wound.
Anza sat at the edge of the couch, rubbing his face with both hands. What exactly was he dealing with? He wanted to think logically, to find a rational explanation for this creature's existence—but no theory could explain it.
A sudden knock on the door broke the silence. Anza glanced at the wall clock—Hana had arrived sooner than he expected.
He rushed to the door and opened it without a word. Hana stood there, wearing a gray hoodie with a small bag slung over her shoulder. Her hair was slightly disheveled, probably from rushing out into the rain.
Her eyes showed a mix of worry and fatigue.
"Za, is this about work again or—" she started, but her words stopped as soon as she glanced into the apartment.
Her eyes locked onto the small figure on the sofa.
"What is that?" she asked, half shocked, half uncertain.
"That's what I want to know," Anza replied, closing the door behind her. "I found it in the alley. It's hurt."
Hana set her bag on the table and stepped closer, kneeling to get a better look. Her expression shifted from confusion to seriousness. She touched the creature's fur carefully, her fingers feeling the soft texture dampened by rain.
"Oh my god, Za… this is clearly not a normal animal," she muttered. "But… it doesn't look like a bird or a mammal either."
Her hand moved to the area around the wound, gently pressing to check its body temperature. Her brow furrowed instantly.
"He's burning up. Could be an infection or… something else," she said.
Anza nodded slowly. "I know it's weird, but I couldn't just leave it there."
Hana took a deep breath and opened her bag. As a veterinarian, she was used to emergencies, but this was clearly outside her usual experience. Still, something in her remained calm and focused.
"We need to remove the arrow first," she said, pulling out some tools. "If it's real, then he must be in immense pain. But I'm not sure how his body will react."
Anza looked down at the small creature. "So… what do we do?"
"First, we stop the bleeding without causing more pain," Hana replied. She grabbed some sterile gauze and antiseptic, preparing to clean the wound with careful movements.
As the gauze touched the wound, the creature flinched slightly, letting out a soft whimper almost like a complaint. Hana immediately pulled her hand back.
"This is… strange. The heat doesn't feel like a normal fever," she said, frowning. "It feels more like… energy moving through his body."
Anza looked at her doubtfully. "You mean… not regular heat?"
Hana shook her head. "I can't explain it, but I can feel it."
She took an analgesic spray and gently applied it to the wound. The creature barely moved, its eyes blinking weakly.
"I'm going to pull the arrow out now," Hana said. "You need to hold him still."
Anza carefully held the tiny body, trying not to make it feel threatened. Its fur felt soft, almost like silk. The warmth radiating from its body felt strange in his hands—not a feverish heat, but as if something pulsed from within.
Hana took a deep breath, then with a steady hand, pulled the arrow out slowly.
Fresh blood immediately flowed out.
Anza held his breath. "Hana, the blood—"
"It's okay. I'm ready," Hana replied quickly, pressing the gauze to the wound to stop the bleeding.
After a few minutes, the bleeding slowed, and Hana wrapped the wound with a small modified bandage.
"Done," she finally said. She exhaled and looked at Anza. "But we have to monitor him. If he stabilizes, we're good. If not… we'll need to figure something else out."
Anza slowly let go, watching the creature, which now looked a bit calmer.
But something caught his attention.
The arrow that had been lodged in the creature's body now lay on the table. Anza picked it up, inspecting the tiny carvings etched into its surface.
"Look at this," he said, handing it to Hana. "Do you think this is just some factory marking?"
Hana took it, turning the small arrow under the light. The engravings were too fine, too precise for anything mass-produced.
"I'm no expert in symbols, but this… isn't something I recognize," she muttered. "It's too specific. Too… strange."
Anza looked at the small creature again.
Hana was right. This wasn't something they'd find in a biology textbook or scientific journal. This wasn't just about wounds and care.
This was the first sign that the world they knew… wasn't as simple as they thought.
And this… was only the beginning.