The rain pattered softly on the roof tiles of the abandoned church. The air was cold, damp, yet peaceful—strangely peaceful on a night like this. You sat there next to Jinu on the cracked marble bench, your shoulders touching, your hearts beating in unison. You had felt something tightening inside you for days. Today, he finally spoke.

— "You know..." — he began softly, his voice barely audible over the rain. — "...I wasn't always like this."

You looked at him. His dark eyes weren't looking at you, but at the ground. You saw his fingers trembling in his lap. You didn't say anything — you just waited.

— "Before I became a demon… I lived in a small village. Mom, Hani — my sister — and I. We had nothing. Sometimes we didn't eat for days. Mom… she cried every morning, but she tried to hide it from us."

Your heartbeat slowed. You knew where this was going. You felt the familiar bitterness in your stomach.

— "They said if I sold my soul, I would be rich. That I could save them. I was a child..." — his voice broke, his shoulders shook. — "And when I brought home the gold... Mother was happy. Hani cried with joy. But I became conceited and I joined the rich, and I left my mother and sister in poverty... By morning... they were gone. I never saw either of them again.

A silent silence settled over you. Only the rain continued its endless rhythm.