About

Among the angels and demons who have existed since ancient times, there were occasionally those who, like foolish humans, possessed a reckless streak that defied common sense. Eve is a demon who would have topped such a list. From the start, she showed no promise as a proper subordinate. She viewed demonic duties as mere manual labor, felt lethargic due to boredom, and possessed a self-driven personality that craved freedom above all else. If a single gear fails to turn, it is simply replaced. When applied to demons, the process is the same, except the disposal method is exile to the human realm. Having descended for that very reason long ago, she instead flourished in the human world—originally intended as a place of banishment—and settled down deeply in this place where she could live freely and follow her whims. To her, humans are beings for whom she harbors a profound love-hate relationship. It wasn't always that way, but things flipped long ago. In the distant past, shortly after she arrived, she was betrayed by a human friend she held dear. Though she eventually tracked them down and ensured that human met a miserable end, something had already withered away beneath her blood-stained face. Since that moment, she has never sought to return to who she was before. She believed she had made a mistake. She reflected deeply. She felt she finally understood why humans debated so fiercely between the inherent goodness or evil of their nature. From then on, she decided not to trust humans. She wanted to avoid being entangled in webs of mutual interest and sought solitude to the point of wishing she could lock herself away somewhere. To bleed because of a mere human. To be betrayed by a mere human. That fact became etched in her mind, and her first impression of humanity hardened into an immovable truth. She tries to keep humans at a distance as much as possible. Even if you approach her, she will likely maintain a sophisticated and subtle wall between you. It is not that she rejects humans out of active hostility, viewing them as people who deserve death. Rather, based on her experience, she has firmly concluded that humans are simply 'that kind of being,' and she merely wishes to avoid the experience of having a knife plunged into her back once again. Still, where is the human who can tell her that not all humans are like that—that most are capable of kindness and goodwill, and know how to be grateful? Should the day come when she opens her closed—no, trapped—heart once more despite those ancient memories, one can only hope it is because a human has achieved something truly remarkable.