It was a sunny day. Looking at my watch, I realized that I had arrived a bit too early to the café. I stood in front of a glass door — the banner at the side stated Willow’s Café. Looking at the people inside, I thought there was a party going on, and when I entered, I just clashed with a boy.

I noticed his features: he had brown eyes and pure black hair. He wore all-blue clothes. His face had a shocked expression — his left hand held onto some kind of black file, and in his right hand, he had a coffee. He stopped for a moment, looked right into my eyes, and apologized, saying he was in a hurry, then rushed out of the café.

That's when a co-worker named Appie came to me with an excited face. Appie was a middle-class girl, studying in 12th grade, and was 17, 2 years younger than me. We had been working at Willow’s Café for the past 6 months.

Appie – “Goodness Anon, you saw that guy, right? He was so handsome! You’re so lucky you bumped into him!”

I took a moment to remember his features. While still in my thoughts, Appie nudged my shoulder.

Appie – “Hey! Where are you lost? You think it’s time to help me now?”

Anon – “Yeah, give me a minute. I’ll get changed.”

It was quite a busy day. I don’t know why, but I saw many people wearing blue clothes. They seemed like they hadn’t slept in weeks — but who cares?

Suddenly, a lady in the same blue clothes walked in and ordered a cold coffee. Soon after, she took the glass and started walking, but suddenly, the glass slipped from her hand and shattered into pieces. She held her head in her hands and collapsed onto the broken glass, cutting her leg. Blood started spilling.

Everyone rushed to help. Some people called for an ambulance. She was taken care of by people in the café and sent to the nearby hospital.

I did not approach her and stood my ground at the counter. After the people left, I went to the place where the glass and blood were and wiped it with my handkerchief. I entered the washroom before anyone could see me.

I looked at the kerchief in my hand — it was completely red. Looked like she was a healthy girl. I smelled it. It was just… too intoxicating for me.

But then I heard a knock on the door. It was Appie’s voice.

Appie – “Anon, are you in there? Come out fast, the manager is here!”

I hadn’t expected the manager to come in today.

Quietly, I took the blood-stained handkerchief, still damp and deep red, and slipped it into a sealing plastic cover. My fingers trembled just a little. I tucked it into the inner pocket of my bag, zipped it up, and took one last look in the mirror before heading out of the washroom.

Appie was already outside, arms crossed, her foot tapping the floor impatiently.

Appie – “What took you so long, Anon? Hurry up — we’ve got a sudden meeting!”

Anon – “Yeah, let’s go.”

We moved toward the main floor, weaving through the chatter and clinking of dishes. The café still buzzed with life, despite the earlier chaos. The manager stood near the counter, tall and cheerful, his hands folded neatly in front of him.

He clapped once, gaining everyone’s attention.

“I’ve got news!” he announced, beaming. “My wife and I have been blessed with a baby girl today!”

The café burst into claps and cheers. Some whistled, some smiled. I offered a polite grin, but my mind was elsewhere.

“To celebrate,” the manager continued, pulling out a small stack of envelopes, “we’re giving everyone a small bonus for today. You’ve all worked hard — go home early, enjoy the rest of the day!”

A round of cheers followed, and people began to scatter, collecting their envelopes, laughing, and making calls.

But then—

Manager – “Anon, wait a minute.”

I stopped in my tracks and turned back. His expression had shifted into something softer — not quite a smile.

“I know you’ve been having a hard time with money lately,” he said, lowering his voice. “So I have an offer for you.”

I tilted my head slightly, curious but cautious.

He continued, “The café usually closes at nine, but we’ve had some late-night requests recently. Private events, nothing fancy. I need someone to stay back, just to keep an eye on things, serve a few drinks. It’s quiet work, and the pay’s extra.”

He paused.

“What do you say?”

I hesitated.

Something about the offer felt… off. Maybe it was the way he looked at me, or maybe I was just being paranoid after the strange morning. Still, money was money.

Anon – “Alright. I’ll do it.”

The manager nodded with approval. “Good. Come by at ten tonight. Just you — keep it quiet. It’s kind of… exclusive.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before walking off, leaving me staring after him with a strange feeling crawling under my skin.

Appie came up beside me, holding her bonus envelope with a grin. “Guess today was lucky for you. First the mystery guy, now a bonus and special night shift? What’s next, a lottery win?”

I laughed, but it was hollow. Something told me this night wouldn’t be like the others.

Not at all

all I can do is wait for it to come and reveal itself....

I had agreed to do the night shift, but something felt heavy… uneasy, like my life was about to change.

I was told by the manager that my shift would start tonight itself, as it was the first week of December. A new PG had opened across the lane, and a lot of medical students had joined, so the café had been full of energy all morning. Appie was so tired after her shift that she took a nap in the locker room before heading home.

It was 11 PM now, and I was alone in the café, sitting quietly behind the counter. I thought of making a coffee for myself, but just as I got up, a group of five students entered. I stood straight behind the counter and welcomed them. They smiled and sat at a front table.

A tall guy with long black hair approached the counter and gave their order. As I was about to turn around, the door opened again. It was the same guy from the morning—the one I had bumped into.

I welcomed him, and he smiled warmly.

“I’ll take a black coffee,” he said.

I nodded, served all the drinks, and returned to the counter. My eyes lingered on the brown-haired guy, the same one from earlier. The rest of the group paid the bill and left, but he stayed, working quietly on his laptop.

The clock struck 12. Still, he didn’t show any sign of leaving.

I hesitated for a second before walking over to his table.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt your work. Would you like more black coffee?” I asked softly.

He looked up and smiled.

“Ah, no need. I hope you don’t mind me sitting in your café without ordering again,” he said, chuckling.

I smiled back. “No, not a big deal.”

As I turned to leave, he called out again.

“Hey, wait. If you don’t mind… you could sit with me. Why stand there all alone?”

I paused, then nodded and sat across from him, scrolling through my phone.

After a moment, he spoke.

“By the way, I just realized—I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Ace.”

I looked up at him and smiled.

“Hello, Ace. I’m Anon.”

“Wow, such a unique, beautiful name. And hey—the astonishing thing is, both our names start with ‘A’.”

We both let out a small laugh. Then I continued,

“Well, to be honest, I haven’t seen you around this city. I guess you’re one of the students staying at the PG?”

“Nope,” he replied with a small grin. “I’m actually 29. I’m an autopsy teacher, just shifted here.”

“Whoa… that must be something. Cutting people open, seeing all the blood…” I closed my eyes with a dreamy smile as the image danced in my mind.

Ace raised an eyebrow and gave a teasing smirk.

“You seem to like blood a lot, huh?”

My eyes snapped open in surprise—but just then, my phone alarm rang. It was 12:30, time to close the café.

Ace understood immediately and began packing up. I returned to the counter, not meeting his eyes. He came over, placed the money on the counter, and smiled.

“Bye, Anon. See you tomorrow.”

He left, and I stood there for a moment, watching the door slowly swing closed behind him.

I whispered to myself, We’ll meet again tomorrow, then locked up and walked back to my apartment under the quiet December night.

---

That morning, I was supposed to arrange student files for their group presentation, but I’d been unpacking all night and ended up oversleeping. In a rush, I left my apartment without breakfast. I stopped passersby to ask for a nearby café and soon found myself standing in front of a small one—Willow’s Café.

It looked freshly opened, the counter empty. I stepped inside and waited. A red-haired lady eventually came up to take my order. I asked for a black coffee—the only kind I ever drank. While waiting, I found a free table and started sorting the documents, rechecking every detail.

Soon, my coffee arrived. As I picked up the cup and turned to leave in haste, I bumped into someone. A girl. She wore a long coat. Her lashes were thick, eyebrows undone yet perfect. Deep black eyes, long brown curly hair. I looked into her eyes for a brief moment—there was something hollow in them, like still water hiding a storm.

I quickly apologized and left.

But even on my way to class, I couldn’t stop thinking about those eyes. They felt… heavy. Lonely. I shook the thoughts off and returned to my routine.

After work, I headed to my cabin and checked the autopsy reports. There were two new cases. My day was already heavy—this just cemented it. I made my way to the autopsy room. The clock read 6:00 PM. By the time I finished both examinations, it was nearly 10:30.

I changed into my usual blue hoodie and jeans, then sat for a moment, exhausted. My apartment was just 15 minutes away, but my mind drifted to everything—my work, my family, and strangely, her.

As I packed up, I looked at the scalpel in my case and quietly slipped it into my bag, like always.

On my way home, I noticed a group of students walking into a café—and it was Willow’s again.

I don’t know why, but my feet started moving on their own. I entered and saw her. The same girl from this morning. She was behind the counter now, taking orders.

Before I could think twice, I was already standing in front of her.

“Hi,” I said simply, then asked for a black coffee and walked to the back, choosing the last seat in the café.

She was serving the others, and after a minute or two, she came over and handed me my coffee. No words, just a quiet glance. She returned to the counter, scrolling on her phone.

I went back to work, writing the autopsy reports. What disturbed me was that both cases looked like murder… but the police insisted on calling them natural deaths. They told me to fake the reports.

I got so lost in my notes that I forgot the time. Then I noticed her again—she was standing near my table. The other students had already left.

I assumed she was going to ask me to leave, but instead, she softly asked if I wanted another black coffee.

I declined politely, but as she turned away, I called out,

“Why don’t you sit with me? No need to stand alone.”

She paused, then agreed. She sat across from me, scrolling through her phone.

From this close, I noticed more details. She wore a turtleneck, and her chain had a tiny lock pendant. Something about her felt distant yet magnetic. I tried starting a conversation—nervous, unsure if she’d even care—but pushed myself.

“I’m Ace,” I said.

She introduced herself as Anon.

She then asked if I was a student too. I smiled and replied,

“Nope. I’m 29, actually. An autopsy teacher.”

She blinked, genuinely surprised.

“Whoa… so you deal with blood and dead bodies?”

I chuckled. “Honestly, not as much blood as you'd expect. Just a little, in the spots I need to cut open.”

She smiled in a strange, satisfied way—like the word blood didn’t bother her at all. It intrigued me.

Just then, her alarm rang. It was 12:30. Time to close the café.

We stood. I walked with her to the counter, paid for my drink without a word, then said with a small smile,

“Bye, Anon. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She didn’t respond. Just watched me leave.

And I walked away, somehow knowing—this wasn’t the last time I’d feel that gaze on me.