"Three days."
The man's voice was cold as he slammed a piece of paper on Hana's counter. "You have three days to settle your debt, or we'll take what's left of your shop."
Hana's heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to argue, to plead for more time, but the words stuck in her throat. All she could do was nod. When the man finally left, silence swallowed the little bakery whole.
Her eyes drifted to the framed photographs on the wall. Her parents, smiling proudly in their chef uniforms, trophies and certificates gleaming in their hands. They had been award-winning pastry chefs, beloved for their skill and creativity. Their bakery had once been filled with the scent of freshly baked bread, buttery croissants, and sweet pastries that people lined up to buy.
But that was two years ago.
Two years since the car accident that had stolen them away and left Hana alone.
As their only daughter, she had tried to continue the family business, clinging to the dream her parents built. But without their guidance, with only scraps of recipes and half-remembered lessons, she struggled. Her skills were clumsy. She could only bake a few basic items, and none of them compared to her parents' masterpieces. Customers drifted away, and soon the bakery that once brimmed with life was empty.
By closing time, Hana had nothing left but a handful of coins and one lonely cookie that hadn't sold.
Locking the door, she stepped into the quiet street, her mind drowning in debt, deadlines, and the sharp ache of loss. That was when she saw an old woman by the roadside, hunched and trembling, her hand outstretched.
"Food… please," the beggar whispered.
Hana hesitated. Her stomach twisted with hunger, but pity overcame her hesitation. She pressed the coins and the cookie into the woman's hands.
The woman's cloudy eyes lit up. "Thank you, child," she murmured. Then, to Hana's shock, she pressed a strange mark onto Hana's palm. For a brief moment, the symbol glowed faintly before fading away.
Hana stared at her hand. "W-what is this?"
The old woman smiled softly. "You will have a blessed life."
Before Hana could ask anything more, a car rushed past, splashing muddy water all over her clothes. She gasped, dripping wet, and shouted in frustration. "Blessed life?! Are you kidding me?!" She spun around only to find the old woman had disappeared. Is she fooling me around? She questioned herself in silence.
Not only that, on her way back home, rain poured down soon after, soaking Hana as she trudged toward home without an umbrella. She sighed bitterly. "Some blessing this is…"
But as she reached her gate, her steps faltered. A white cat sat waiting there, its fur damp but its posture calm, as if expecting her return.
Hana's chest tightened. "No… not a cat. I'm scared of hairy creatures," she whispered, frozen under its unblinking gaze.
The rain continued to pour, tapping against her shoulders as she stared at the creature. The cat sat perfectly still, its long white fur damp and clinging to its body, but its jewel-like blue eyes shone with an unnatural sharpness.
Hana took a careful step back. "No… don't look at me like that. I-I'm not good with furry creatures," she muttered, clutching her bag to her chest.
"Meow."
The cat tilted its head, as though amused by her fear.
Hana frowned. "What do you want, food? Sorry, I don't even have dinner for myself."
"Meow~"
The sound was sharper this time, annoyed, almost like the cat was protesting.
Hana rolled her eyes. "Don't 'meow' at me like that. I already gave away my last cookie, okay?"
The cat flicked its tail and let out another sharp cry.
"Meow!"
"Yes, yes, I heard you. Stop yelling." Hana huffed, brushing wet hair from her face.
She took another step before her thoughts caught up with her words. She froze.
"…Wait."
Her eyes widened as she slowly turned to the cat. "Did I just… answer you? And… did I actually understand what you said?!"
The cat blinked, letting out a soft, satisfied purr.
Hana clutched her head. "No way… no way. I've gone insane. First the glowing stamp, now I'm talking to cats?! What's next, bread that bakes itself?!"
The cat meowed again, short and smug, as if mocking her.
Hana groaned, unlocking her door with shaking hands. "Blessed life, huh? This feels more like a cursed one."
"Meow."
The white cat sat proudly at her doorstep, its jewel-like eyes watching her intently.
Hana sighed and shook her head. "Nope. Not my problem." She turned her back, pushed the door open, and slipped inside, shutting the cat out.
She kicked off her wet shoes and leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath. But the image of the drenched creature sitting alone in the rain tugged at her chest.
"…Ugh. Why do I feel guilty?" she muttered.
With a frustrated groan, Hana grabbed an umbrella and a cardboard box from the kitchen. She stepped back outside and set the box down carefully. The cat tilted its head as she placed the umbrella above it, shielding the little shelter from the pouring rain.
"There. Shelter. Don't say I never did anything for you," she grumbled before hurrying back inside.
After a hot bath, Hana felt her muscles relax for the first time that day. Wrapping herself in a towel, she wandered into the kitchen, her stomach growling.
"Ramen…" she whispered longingly as she pulled out a packet of instant noodles. "Simple, cheap, perfect. Please, universe, let me have this one thing."
She filled the pot with water, humming quietly, but when she turned around, her eyes went wide.
The cat was sitting on her wooden dining table, its fur now dry and fluffy, tail swishing lazily.
Hana froze. "…H-how… how are you here?! Did you break in? Are you a ghost?!"
The cat yawned.
Her voice rose in panic. "No, no, no! This isn't real. I must be dreaming. Or crazy. Or having a nightmare. Someone, please slap me awake!"
"Meow."
The cat raised its paw and slapped her cheek.
Hana gasped, stumbling back. "…Y-you actually slapped me?!"
The cat licked its paw smugly and meowed again, almost like laughter.
Hana clutched her face, utterly speechless. "This isn't a blessing… this is the start of my insanity." Her world began to blur and dark.
She passed out.