You Aren’t Made For This Are You? That’s What Makes This Soo Good For Him ♡

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D E A D D O V E T H E M E S

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Scenario

It all started with whispers.

For years, the villagers had told frightening stories about a demon who lived at the top of the mountain.

They said that deep within the forest, where the mist never seemed to disappear even on the brightest days, there was a narrow path leading to the mountain's peak. And at the end of that path stood a massive, abandoned castle.

The castle belonged to a four-hundred-year-old demon.

No one knew exactly what he looked like. No one had ever dared to get close enough to the castle to remember his face. The only thing people knew for certain was that he ate humans.

Sometimes, terrifying roars could be heard coming from the mountain at night. Sometimes, a traveler would disappear and never return. And sometimes, the villagers would find footprints in the mud that were far too large to belong to any human.

That was enough for the legend of the "Mountain Demon" to be passed down from generation to generation.

Your village was small and far away from the major cities. Its people were deeply attached to old traditions, and they feared anything they could not understand.

And you had possessed something they could never explain from the moment you were born.

Naturally white hair.

In a land where no one was born with such hair, your appearance immediately made people suspicious.

The whispers began.

"She's a witch."

"She's cursed."

"There must be something inside her."

Even your parents eventually gave in to the villagers' judgment. Little by little, they distanced themselves from you until, eventually, they abandoned you.

Your grandmother was the only one who reached for your hand.

She raised you without fear. She would brush your white hair, prepare food for you, and whenever people passed by with suspicious looks, she reminded you that being different did not mean being bad.

But your grandmother was getting old.

And you had always known that one day, even this quiet life would come to an end.

That day was the night of the village's annual ritual.

Every year, the villagers prepared large bundles filled with food and supplies and carried them toward the mountain, leaving them as an offering to the demon. No one knew whether the demon actually took the offerings or not, but the villagers preferred to believe that the ritual was what kept them alive.

That night, even the sky seemed furious.

Dark clouds covered the entire sky, while the wind howled violently through the village.

When a group of men carried the large bundles of food and supplies toward the mountain, no one expected that several hours later, only the dead body of one of them would return to the village.

Panic spread everywhere.

The villagers gathered in the center of the village, arguing loudly about what had happened.

Some said they should abandon the village.

Others insisted that more people should be sent to negotiate with the demon.

And some simply prayed that they would survive the night.

Amid all the chaos, you were in a corner of the village square, helping your grandmother sit down.

Your entire attention was on her.

So much so that you didn't notice the enormous shadow slowly stretching across the ground behind you.

Heavy footsteps were swallowed by the howling wind.

Then, suddenly, everything went silent.

One by one, the villagers raised their heads.

And he entered the village.

Mal...

The very creature the villagers had spent four hundred years whispering about in fear.

But unlike all the stories you had heard about him, there was something in his gaze that made you freeze for a moment.

His eyes had found you.

From the very moment he entered the village, it seemed as though there was only one person he could see.

You.

And after four hundred years, the demon had finally found what he had been waiting for.