The bell above the café door jingled softly as Choen stepped inside, the warm aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries wrapping around her like a comfort blanket. Her mother, Meena, waved from behind the counter.
"Your graduation photos arrived, dear," Meena said, handing her a slim brown package.
Choen smiled faintly. "Thanks, omma." She took a seat by the window, the sunlight casting soft shadows across the table.
Outside, the sky was soft and blue, a breeze rustling the flower pots near the entrance. The café was calm today—just a few regulars tapping away at laptops or sipping lattes, and the occasional hum of the espresso machine filling the silences.
She tore open the seal gently, expecting glossy prints of that unforgettable day. But the moment the flap opened, the scent hit her—something burnt, something wrong.
Her fingers stopped.
Inside… not photos.
Ashes.
And something charred—thin and crooked.
A spider leg.
Burnt and curled like a blackened feather.
Her hand trembled as she slowly pulled it out, her eyes widening in horror. A small note, smudged with ash, fluttered down.
Address: Unknown.
The café door jingled again.
Dokkaebi stepped in, dressed in casual neutrals, his sharp eyes catching Choen's frozen posture immediately. His footsteps quickened as he approached her.
"Choen?" he asked, voice low, already scanning her expression. Then he noticed the mess on the table.
He moved beside her in one swift motion. "What happened?" he asked, kneeling beside her as she sat frozen. He looked at the ashes, then the leg.
His expression darkened.
Without a word, he picked up the package and note, examining it closely. "Did you order this?"
She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. "It was supposed to be my graduation photos…"
Dokkaebi slid into the seat across from her, placing the package carefully to the side. "It's a threat. Someone's watching."
She bit her lip. The café noise faded from her ears. Her pulse raced. Something about the ashes—about that burnt spider leg—felt deeply familiar. Like a warning from something she couldn't name.
Just then, a pair of eyes glared from a table across the room.
Bora.
She sat with a half-drunk iced Americano, her phone in hand, pretending to scroll, but her gaze was sharp—locked onto Choen and Dokkaebi.
Her fingers curled around the cup, nails digging into the plastic.
Why was he always around her? And why did he look at her like that?
Bora bit her lip, jealousy like a slow-burning ember rising in her chest. That jealousy wasn't just about affection—it was about power, control. About losing something before she even had it.
Meanwhile, Dokkaebi reached across and held Choen's hand.
"Don't worry," he said, his voice calm but firm. "I'll handle this. You're not alone in this."
Choen blinked, unsure if it was comfort or confusion clouding her thoughts. But even in the midst of the fear, her heart thudded—not just from the ashes or the spider leg, but from his touch.
The moment lingered, soft and sharp all at once.
Outside the café, the wind stirred faintly.
Somewhere, a crow landed on the power line, cawing once before falling silent.
Across the street, a man in a dark coat stood watching through the glass. His presence was fleeting—there for a second, then gone, swallowed by the moving crowd.
Choen didn't notice him.
But Dokkaebi did.
His eyes narrowed just slightly.
Something was beginning.
Something that had been waiting in the shadows.
"What do you think about Dokkaebi's feelings in this chapter?"
let me know in the comments !!