MY DEMON

A Long Time Ago

The moonlight seeped through the dense forest, casting silver shadows on the damp earth. The night was eerily silent, save for the pounding of footsteps against fallen leaves and the ragged breaths of the two figures racing through the trees. The wind howled through the branches, tugging at Y/N’s cloak, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop.

Behind her, Jimin was gaining. He was always faster. Always stronger. A hunter, trained to kill her kind. But tonight, his movements were different. Slower. Hesitant.

"Y/N!" His voice shattered the stillness, filled with something raw and desperate. "Stop!"

But how could she? She had seen the look in his eyes when he found out—when the truth had bled into the world like a wound that couldn’t be sealed. Shock. Horror. Betrayal.

A demon. That’s what she was.

The one thing he was born to destroy.

She had wanted to tell him. So many times, she had wanted to confess what she was. What she had always been. But the words had never left her lips, trapped by the fear that this very moment would come to pass. And now, it had.

Her foot caught on an exposed root, and she stumbled into a clearing bathed in moonlight. The cold air stung her lungs as she turned, eyes wild, heart hammering against her ribs. She didn’t need to look to know he was there. She felt him.

Jimin emerged from the trees, his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. His sword was still clutched in his trembling hand, the silver blade catching the glow of the night. His dark eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

The silence was deafening.

Then, his voice came, barely above a whisper. "Tell me it’s not true."

Her throat tightened. His face—so familiar, so painfully familiar—was twisted with something unreadable. Anger. Grief. A plea for her to deny what he already knew.

"Would it make a difference?" she asked, her voice soft, almost fragile.

Jimin flinched as though she had struck him. His grip on his sword faltered. "I don’t know," he admitted, and that single confession hurt more than any blade ever could.

She had always been by his side. Had fought alongside him. Had laughed with him, cried with him, walked beside him in a world that never should have allowed it.

And yet, here they stood, proof that everything he believed in was a lie.

"I never hurt anyone," she whispered. "Not once."

His jaw tightened. His fingers curled around the hilt of his sword, but he made no move to lift it.

"I was raised to believe demons were evil," he said, voice shaking. "That they don’t feel. That they don’t—" His breath caught, and he turned his face away as if saying it aloud would break him. "...That they don’t love."

Something inside Y/N cracked.

"But you know that’s not true," she whispered.

His head snapped up. His eyes met hers, wide, searching, drowning in the weight of everything he felt but couldn’t say. The world around them fell away, and for a brief, fleeting moment, it was just the two of them, standing on opposite ends of a war neither of them had chosen.

Jimin’s fingers loosened. His sword trembled. Then, with a hollow clang, it slipped from his grasp, landing between them like the final breath of something already dead.

His shoulders sagged. His breath was uneven. His entire body looked like it might collapse under the weight of his grief.

"I can’t," he whispered, more to himself than to her. "I can’t do this."

Her vision blurred. Seeing him like this—so lost, so broken—was more painful than anything else. She had never feared him, not even when he had chased her through the trees with a blade meant for her throat. But this? This shattered her.

Her feet moved before she could think. In two quick steps, she closed the distance and wrapped her arms around him.

Jimin stiffened. His whole body went rigid, his breath hitching in his throat.

For a single, perfect second, he let himself sink into the warmth of her embrace. Their heartbeats, once frantic, found a rhythm. Her hands clutched at the fabric of his cloak, holding onto him as if she could somehow keep this moment frozen in time.

Then, instinct took over.

Pain.

A sharp gasp left her lips. Her body jerked as something cold and unforgiving tore through her.

Jimin’s breath caught. His entire world tilted as he looked down, eyes widening in horror at the sight of his own hands—his own hands—wrapped around the hilt of the blade now buried in her body.

"No…" His voice cracked. His entire frame shook. "No, no, no!"

The sword slipped from his grasp, but it was too late. She staggered, her body growing heavy. The warmth of his embrace was fading, replaced by something colder.

Jimin caught her before she could fall, sinking to his knees with her in his arms. His fingers clutched at her back, pressing against the wound as if he could somehow stop what had already begun.

The pain was spreading, a dull ache creeping through her limbs, but she forced herself to look at him—at the man who had once been her best friend, the only one she had ever truly trusted.

Her lips trembled, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Still, she mustered a weak, fleeting smile. "Jimin…" Her voice was barely a whisper, but it held everything—every unspoken word, every buried emotion she had kept hidden for so long.

"I trusted you," she breathed, her fingers weakly pressing against his cheek. "Even when I knew what you were… even when I knew what you would do to me if you found out. I still trusted you." A single tear slipped down her face, warm against her cold skin. "And I still do."

Jimin choked on a sob, his hands trembling as he cradled her closer. "No… please, don’t—"

"I loved you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I always did."

Her fingers slipped from his face, her breath faltering. The warmth was fading.

And then, everything faded with it.

Jimin sat there, unmoving, his arms wrapped around her lifeless body. His vision blurred with tears, his chest hollow, his breath ragged and uneven. His hands, now stained with her blood, clenched into fists.

She had trusted him. She had loved him.

And he had killed her.

A choked sob tore from his throat as he rocked her gently, his forehead pressed against hers, as if he could somehow turn back time—undo the damage, erase his own betrayal. But the warmth had already faded from her body, her fingers had already slipped from his grasp.

His whole life, he had been taught that demons were incapable of love. That they were deceivers, monsters, nothing more.

But Y/N had loved him. Even at the very end.

Jimin let out a shuddering breath, his grip tightening around her. A sick, bitter laugh escaped his lips—more of a broken sob than anything else. He had spent years hunting demons, but in the end, he was the monster.

His trembling fingers reached for his sword, the very blade that had taken her life. It felt heavier than ever, slick with her blood, an unbearable weight in his hands. His heart pounded, but there was no fear. No hesitation. He knew what he had to do.

Lifting the sword, he pressed the tip against his chest, right over the place where her touch had always lingered the longest—where her presence had always been the strongest.

The place where his heart had once been.

His breath came out in a shudder. "I love you," he whispered, his voice breaking, his grip steady. "Wait for me."

And then, with a final, sharp thrust, the blade sank into his heart.

A gasp tore from his lips, pain spreading through his body like fire, but it was nothing compared to the agony of losing her. He let himself fall back, still clutching her hand, his vision growing hazy.

The last thing he saw was the moon hanging above them, bearing silent witness to the tragedy of a hunter who had lost himself to love, and a demon who had never stopped believing in him.

Then, the world faded to black.

-----

The Awakening

Jimin’s body jerked as he gasped, his lungs desperately searching for air—only to realize he wasn’t breathing.

His eyes snapped open.

The world around him was unrecognizable. No moonlit forest. No scent of blood in the air. No body cradled in his arms. Just an eerie silence, broken only by the distant howling of the wind.

He sat up, fingers curling into the dirt beneath him. His skin was colder than it should have been, and when he lifted his hand, it trembled—but not with weakness. No, it was something else. He felt strong. Too strong.

Then, he noticed the absence of his heartbeat.

Confusion flickered through him, followed by something darker, something primal. He reached for his chest, pressing his palm over where his heart should have been hammering against his ribs. But there was nothing. Just silence.

What… am I?

A rustling sound echoed behind him, and he turned on instinct—too fast. His movements were unnatural, effortless, as if he weighed nothing at all. His eyes widened at the realization, his fingers curling into fists.

Then, a sharp pain spread through his skull. Images flickered—flashes of something just out of reach. A sword. A woman. Her voice, soft and full of sorrow. "I trusted you."

His breath hitched. The voice—who was she? Why did it feel like those words were carved into his very soul?

He clutched his head, but no matter how hard he tried to remember, the memories slipped through his grasp like sand.

Then, he saw his reflection.

A still pool of water lay nearby, its surface eerily smooth. He crawled toward it, leaning over the edge.

And the face that stared back at him wasn’t the one he remembered.

Crimson eyes. Pale skin, untouched by warmth. His once human features were still there, but sharper, almost otherworldly. And his hands—his nails were longer, darker at the tips, as though they had been stained with something unholy.

The realization hit him like a dagger to the gut.

He had become the very thing hunters were trained to destroy.

He was a demon.

A low, bitter laugh escaped his lips, but it was hollow, empty. He didn’t even know who he was anymore.

But if he had become a demon… if he had been reborn as one of them… then what had he been before?

What had he lost?

The Years That Followed

Jimin wandered for years, drifting between towns, trying to understand what he had become. At first, he hid in the shadows, fearing the humans he once belonged to. He didn’t need food, didn’t need rest, and the passing years never touched him. But he learned quickly—demons like him weren’t welcome.

The first time he saw hunters slay a demon in the streets, he realized how much danger he was in. He wasn’t human anymore, but neither was he a mindless beast like the others they killed.

So he did the only thing he could do. He blended in.

He observed humans, mimicked their mannerisms, forced himself to move like them, speak like them. He learned to control his strength, to dull the unnatural sharpness of his movements. He wore gloves to hide his claws, stayed away from fire and silver, and never, never let his eyes glow.

There were times he came close to being discovered—when hunters would pass by and he could feel their suspicion lingering on him. But he always escaped. Always survived.

But no matter how many centuries passed, the ache in his chest never faded.

There was something missing. Something important.

And no matter how hard he tried, he could never shake the feeling that once upon a time, he had loved someone.

Someone he had lost.

-----

Fated Encounters

Jimin had survived centuries of bloodshed, outlived kings and empires, and mastered the art of blending in with humans. But tonight, in this brightly lit convenience store, he was witnessing something far more dangerous.

A woman. Arguing. With a self-checkout machine.

“YOU THINK YOU’RE SMARTER THAN ME?!” she hissed, jabbing the screen repeatedly. “I’LL SHOW YOU, YOU OVERRATED TOASTER.”

The machine beeped back, "Please remove the unexpected item from the bagging area."

“I AM THE UNEXPECTED ITEM,” she snapped.

Jimin nearly choked trying to hold back his laughter. He had only stopped by for a drink, but now he was watching this poor machine get absolutely bullied.

She must’ve felt his stare because she whirled around, hands on her hips. “Can I help you?”

Jimin smirked. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just really enjoying this intellectual debate.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”

Jimin shrugged, stepping forward. “Alright, move aside.”

She did—but not without crossing her arms and muttering, “Let’s see if Mr. Know-It-All can do any better.”

Jimin scanned her items with zero issues. The machine responded perfectly.

Y/N’s jaw dropped.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she groaned. “I’ve been here for ten minutes fighting this thing, and you just—?!”

He smirked. “Maybe it just likes me more.”

She scoffed. “Please. No one likes you more.”

Jimin hummed. “I dunno. The machine seems pretty fond of me.” He patted it like it was a well-behaved pet.

Y/N rolled her eyes so hard Jimin was surprised they didn’t get stuck.

She grabbed her stuff, but just as she turned to leave, the checkout screen glitched. It beeped again.

"Card declined."

Jimin looked at her. “Oh. That’s awkward.”

Y/N froze. She slowly turned back to the screen, horror dawning on her face.

“…I have money,” she whispered, like the machine had personally insulted her.

Jimin grinned. “I dunno. The machine seems pretty sure that you’re broke.”

She gasped, offended. “You take that back.”

“I’m just saying, it’s suspicious.” He crossed his arms. “Do you really have money, or are you just committing a very embarrassing crime right now?”

“I—OF COURSE I HAVE MONEY.” She patted her pockets… only to find them empty.

Silence.

Jimin bit his lip, barely holding in his laughter. “Wow. Wow. So this is what rock bottom looks like.”

“Shut up,” she hissed. “I swear I had my card—”

Just then, an employee started walking toward them.

Panic flashed in Y/N’s eyes. Without thinking, she shoved her shopping bag into Jimin’s hands and grabbed his arm.

“Okay, boyfriend, you’re paying,” she said through clenched teeth.

Jimin blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

She smiled sweetly at the approaching worker while whispering, “I am NOT getting banned from my favorite store, so unless you want me to scream that you’re trying to rob me, play along.”

Jimin stared at her, both impressed and mildly horrified. “You are actually evil.”

“I prefer the term resourceful.”

Jimin sighed but swiped his card anyway, shaking his head. As the transaction went through, Y/N patted his shoulder.

“Thanks, babe. I’ll pay you back. Probably. No promises.”

She turned to leave, but Jimin casually called after her, “At least tell me your name before you scam me again.”

Y/N grinned, walking backward toward the door. “Nope! But thanks for the groceries, boyfriend.”

And just like that, she disappeared into the night.

Jimin stood there, holding a bag of stuff he didn’t even buy, shaking his head.

…What the hell just happened?

For centuries, he had met countless people. He never cared to remember any of them.

But her?

Yeah. He was definitely going to remember this one.

-----

Twisted Fate

Jimin thought that would be the end of it. Just a weird, chaotic encounter with a random woman who tricked him into buying her groceries.

But fate? Fate had other plans.

Because three days later, he saw her again.

This time, she was chasing a bus.

“WAIT! STOP! YOU HEARTLESS METAL BEAST!” Y/N shrieked, sprinting full speed as the bus pulled away. She waved her arms dramatically, but the driver didn’t even glance back.

Jimin, who had just been minding his own business, sipping his coffee, stopped walking to watch the show.

The bus did not stop.

Y/N did not stop either.

Unfortunately, physics existed.

Her foot caught on a crack in the pavement. One moment, she was running. The next, she was face-planting onto the sidewalk.

Jimin nearly spit out his drink.

Y/N groaned from the ground, muffling a string of curses into the concrete.

Jimin casually strolled over, looking down at her crumpled form. “So… was the bus worth it?”

She turned her head just enough to glare at him. “Why. Are. You. Everywhere?”

Jimin smirked. “Maybe I’m stalking you.”

Y/N squinted at him. “You’re not cute enough to be my stalker.”

Jimin gasped in mock offense. “Excuse you—”

Y/N groaned, sitting up and rubbing her forehead. “Ugh, whatever. I’m late for work now.”

“Tragic,” Jimin said, not sounding sorry at all. “So what now? Gonna steal a stranger’s bike? Hitchhike? Bribe a pigeon?”

She sighed. “No. But if you’re done being annoying, I need to figure something out.”

Jimin hummed, sipping his coffee. Then, for reasons he couldn’t explain, he found himself saying, “I could drive you.”

Y/N stared at him like he had grown three heads. “You? Being helpful?”

“Shocking, right?” Jimin said, deadpan.

She narrowed her eyes. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch. Just a good deed for a poor, bus-less soul.”

Y/N gave him a long, suspicious look. Then, she sighed. “Fine. But if you kidnap me, I’m biting you.”

Jimin chuckled. “Noted.”

That was how he ended up driving her to work.

It was supposed to be a simple ride.

But nothing about Y/N was simple.

Because the moment she got in the passenger seat, she immediately reached for the radio.

Jimin slapped her hand away. “No.”

Y/N gasped. “What do you mean no?”

“This is my car. My rules.”

She scoffed. “What kind of monster doesn’t let their passenger pick the music?”

Jimin grinned. “The kind that enjoys watching you suffer.”

Y/N groaned dramatically. “Ugh. You’re the worst.”

“Flattered.”

She flopped back in her seat with a pout. “At least tell me where you’re from. You don’t look like you belong here.”

Jimin paused.

He had spent centuries blending in, moving from city to city, never staying anywhere for too long.

Where was he from?

Nowhere. Everywhere.

But instead of answering, he just smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Wow. Mysterious. So original.”

Jimin just chuckled.

Neither of them realized it then, but that was the first of many rides.

Because fate? Fate wasn’t done with them yet.

-----

Unwanted Fate

Jimin was starting to think the universe was laughing at him.

There was no other explanation.

Because ever since that stupid grocery store and bus incident, Y/N kept showing up. Or worse—he kept running into her.

At first, it was just bad luck.

Like the next day, when he found her in his favorite café. At his table. Sipping his usual drink.

She blinked up at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jimin crossed his arms. “You stole my spot.”

Y/N tilted her head. “I don’t see your name on it.”

“I sit here every day.”

She sipped her coffee slowly, maintaining eye contact. “Not today.”

Jimin exhaled sharply. “You did that on purpose.”

A smirk tugged at her lips. “Maybe.”

He gave her the flattest look imaginable before dragging a chair and sitting right across from her. If she was going to be annoying, so was he.

That was supposed to be the last time.

It wasn’t.

---

Then came the grocery store. Again.

Jimin had sworn off ever stepping foot in that cursed place, but he ran out of coffee. And a demon without coffee? A dangerous thing.

So there he was, minding his business, when—

“HEY, BOYFRIEND!”

Jimin flinched. A cart came crashing into his side.

Y/N. Again.

She blinked. “Oh. Didn’t see you there.”

Jimin groaned. “You ran over me.”

“Well, in my defense, you’re standing in the middle of the aisle like some tragic movie protagonist.” She peeked at his basket. “Coffee? Wow. Didn’t take you for the dark and brooding caffeine addict type.”

Jimin grabbed her cart and pushed it away from his ribs. “And I didn’t take you for the menace to public safety type, but here we are.”

She grinned. “Charming.”

---

Then there was the library incident.

He was peacefully reading when Y/N flopped into the chair across from him, looking traumatized.

Jimin raised an eyebrow. “You good?”

She slowly turned to him. “I just witnessed a child eat a crayon.”

Jimin blinked. “...Okay?”

“He chewed it like gum, Jimin.”

Jimin had no idea when she started using his name like they were friends. But for some reason, it didn’t bother him.

He sighed, shutting his book. “Let’s go before you make that my problem.”

---

At some point, it wasn’t just coincidences anymore.

At some point, he started expecting to see her.

And at some point, he stopped being annoyed when he did.

They weren’t friends. Definitely not.

But he found himself offering her rides. She found herself texting him random nonsense. They bickered constantly, but somehow, they never wanted to walk away.

One night, as they sat on his car hood, eating cheap street food, Y/N nudged him.

“You’re not so bad, you know?”

Jimin smirked. “Are you getting soft on me?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Don’t push it.”

Jimin just chuckled.

Because somehow, despite everything, despite fate, despite time—he liked being around her.

And that? That was dangerous.

-----

Fragments of the Past

Jimin didn’t realize it was happening.

Not at first.

Not when he started lingering a little longer after dropping her off. Not when he found himself watching for her reactions, memorizing the way she laughed at his dry humor. Not even when he caught himself reaching for her hand before stopping, unsure why he even wanted to.

It happened slowly.

Like the way he would text her when she wasn’t around, just to hear her sarcastic replies.

Or how she started leaning against his shoulder without thinking when they sat together.

Or how the silence between them no longer felt empty—but comfortable.

Somewhere between all the late-night drives, the stupid bickering, and the quiet moments where neither of them spoke, something had changed.

And Jimin knew it was dangerous.

Because every night, when he closed his eyes, the past clawed at him.

---

At first, the dreams were shapeless. Shadows and whispers, slipping through his fingers like mist.

Then, they became clearer.

A sword clattering to the ground.

The cold embrace of the forest.

The taste of blood and regret.

A girl’s voice, trembling yet soft. “I trust you.”

Jimin would wake up gasping, heart pounding, the echoes of a name on his tongue—only to forget it the moment he opened his eyes.

It was maddening.

He had survived centuries. He had adapted to time itself. So why—why did this feel familiar?

And why, when he looked at Y/N, did it feel like she was the answer to a question he didn’t know how to ask?

---

One evening, as they walked home together, Y/N turned to him suddenly.

“Do you ever feel like you’ve lived before?” she asked.

Jimin stopped. His grip on his jacket tightened.

“…What do you mean?”

She shrugged, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “I don’t know. Déjà vu, I guess? Like, sometimes I look at people and I know I’ve never met them before, but something in me remembers them.”

Jimin swallowed hard.

Y/N kicked a rock on the pavement. “Forget it. I sound crazy.”

Jimin hesitated. Then, softly—“You don’t.”

Y/N glanced up at him. “Yeah?”

Jimin forced a small smirk. “You were already crazy before this.”

She groaned, shoving his shoulder. “I hate you.”

He chuckled. “No, you don’t.”

And for some reason, as he said it, his chest ached.

Because in another life, she had said it first.

And he hadn’t believed her until it was too late.

-----

Full Circle

Jimin never told Y/N about the dreams.

Not when they turned into full memories. Not when he started recognizing her—not as the girl who bickered with him over coffee, but as the one he had once betrayed.

Not when he finally remembered everything.

Because what was he supposed to say? Hey, funny story—I once killed you, then killed myself out of guilt, only to wake up as a demon with no memory, and now, centuries later, we’ve somehow found each other again.

Yeah. Not happening.

So he stayed silent. He told himself it was better this way. She was happy. She didn’t remember. Why drag her into something that didn’t belong to this life?

And yet—

One night, as they sat on a rooftop overlooking the city, Y/N turned to him.

“You’ve been weird lately.”

Jimin froze, keeping his gaze on the skyline. “I’m always weird.”

She nudged him. “You know what I mean. You space out a lot. You look at me like… like you’re waiting for me to say something.”

Jimin swallowed hard. “And what do you think I’m waiting for?”

Y/N hesitated. Then, almost too softly, she whispered, “The truth.”

Jimin turned to her, his breath catching.

Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes—her eyes were searching, like she knew.

Jimin let out a shaky laugh. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

Y/N tilted her head, considering. Then, with a small smile—“Try me.”

And just like that, Jimin stopped running.

He told her everything.

Every memory. Every mistake. Every regret.

And Y/N listened. She didn’t interrupt. Didn’t laugh or call him crazy.

When he finished, she was silent for a long time.

Then, she simply said, “It’s weird.”

Jimin blinked. “That’s all you have to say?”

She smiled softly. “No. I was going to say… it’s weird, but it feels true.”

Jimin exhaled, relief washing over him. “Yeah?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah.”

A quiet moment passed before she turned to him with a smirk. “So… does this mean you technically owe me an apology for stabbing me in another life?”

Jimin groaned, covering his face. “Oh my god.”

Y/N laughed, nudging him. “I’m just saying! A girl doesn’t forget something like that—”

Jimin grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer. “Y/N.”

She blinked, caught off guard by his sudden seriousness.

His voice was soft when he said, “I don’t deserve this second chance. But if fate’s giving it to me… I’m not wasting it.”

Y/N held his gaze.

Then, slowly, she laced her fingers with his.

“You won’t,” she whispered.

And for the first time in centuries, Jimin believed it.

-----

Destined, This Time

Jimin had lived for centuries.

He had watched empires rise and fall, seen the world change in ways he never thought possible. He had survived as a demon, hiding in plain sight, always alone.

But for the first time in his endless existence, he didn’t want to be alone.

Because this time, fate had given him a second chance.

And this time, he wouldn’t waste it.

---

It didn’t happen all at once.

Y/N wasn’t the type to fall into his arms just because he remembered their past life. She made him work for it.

“You can’t just say ‘Oops, my bad for stabbing you’ and expect me to swoon, Jimin,” she had told him, arms crossed, eyes glinting with mischief.

Jimin had sighed dramatically. “Fine. What if I also buy you food?”

“…Go on.”

And so, he spent months proving himself, not just as a past-life mistake, but as this life’s Jimin—the one who argued with her over dumb things, the one who knew her coffee order by heart, the one who chose her every single day.

Until one night, under a quiet sky, she finally sighed, exasperated.

“Okay, fine,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “I guess I’m in love with you or whatever.”

Jimin smirked. “Wow. So romantic.”

Y/N groaned. “Shut up and kiss me before I change my mind.”

So he did.

And for the first time in both their lives, neither of them had to say goodbye.

---

Years later, as they walked hand in hand down a quiet street, Y/N nudged him.

“So, are you going to marry me in this lifetime, or do I have to wait another hundred years?”

Jimin laughed, pulling her closer. “If you think I’m letting fate separate us again, you really don’t know me.”

Y/N grinned. “Good answer.”

And under the moonlit sky, for the first time in centuries, Jimin finally felt whole.

The End.