It’s odd, perhaps, that among the things Sunggyu remembered clearest was a passage from Macbeth back in a high school literature class.  He’d encountered too many people to properly call names and faces to mind, been to too many locations to be struck by the novelty of foreign languages and cultures.  Business could do that to you, if you weren’t careful.  Sure, Sunggyu also remembered that time he embarrassed the living daylights out of himself at his best friend’s party and he remembered sneaking out to go on a two-week road trip down the coast and he remembered his first girlfriend, his first kiss, his first—well, you simply never forgot your first, even if you weren’t a sentimental person.

And sentimental, Sunggyu most definitely was not.

Lady Macbeth had killed someone, you see, and couldn’t wash the blood from her hands.  Or at least, she thought she couldn’t.  Sunggyu vaguely recalled the teacher lecturing on her psychotic breakdown, tossing terms such as guilt and paranoia about as easily as a child feeding bread to ducks, but that’s beside the point.  It wasn’t self-reproach, necessarily, that disquieted Sunggyu.  It was the scene itself that had embedded itself in his memory, the image of the woman scrubbing her hands persistently, desperately, futilely.  It never failed to cross Sunggyu’s mind each night before he slept, and even when he forewent slumber.

He wondered how much blood stained his hands, considering how many he’d killed over the years.

Sunggyu was a Hunter, but it was more like pest control if one really thought about it.  There were things that went bump in the night, and there were those, like him, who caught them.  Logical, wasn’t it?  Every system had its checks and balances, so why should theirs be any different?

Running a tired hand through his hair, Sunggyu almost wished he’d never encountered that demon last year.  He’d been perfectly content with his lifestyle until then.

…though maybe perfectly was a slight overstatement.  As was content.  But he’d been complacent, and having a routine in such an unpredictable lifestyle was better than endless questioning.  Or so he wanted to believe.  Sunggyu didn’t like admitting that a monster had sent him down an existential crisis.  Not that she did, of course, because their world was black and white—kill first lest you’re killed, and nothing should be simpler.

It was easier, not thinking or feeling or caring.

His first had been male—Sunggyu was reluctant to call him a man, still.  He’d been tall, taller than Sunggyu anyway, with broad shoulders and chiseled features, harsh glares and harsher nails.  Claws, Sunggyu corrected, eyeing his fingers as he wiggled them absentmindedly.  Razor sharp talons worthy of a harpy, and he still bore the scars to prove it.

It’d been easy, considering the demon was rogue.  It didn’t take much to look past his handsome face at all.  Even if seeing beyond his striking appearance had been difficult, and this was a huge if mind you, there was no denying the bloodlust in his gaze, no denying the deadly intent in his every swipe.  That creature lived up to everything Sunggyu had been taught, affirmed every lesson he’d had about merciless brutality and coldhearted precision.  Give him the chance and there was no doubt he’d kill Sunggyu, so there really was no choice but to rob him of such opportunity.

He’d bled black, as all demons did, black as the heart Sunggyu carved from his body to ensure his death.

Sunggyu wrinkled his nose in distaste, the foul blood thick and dark like ink as it coated his palm and dripped between his fingers.  Without another glance at the organ clutched in his fist, he flicked open his Zippo with his free hand and held the lighter against the heart, setting it ablaze before tossing it carelessly aside.

His unease lasted about as long as it took to wash the residue off his person.

It got even easier after that, all traces of hesitation gone with the proof he got from his first.  They were monsters, and they needed to be eradicated before they could harm others.  Sunggyu didn’t have to second-guess his actions, didn’t have the capacity to, not when faced with such ruthless beings.  No one could afford mercy in such a wicked world, and he was okay with that—it was his job, after all.  At the end of the day, at least he could walk away saying he accomplished something, saved someone, contributed somewhere.

His last had been male too.  Funny, if Sunggyu cared to think about it, the way the coincidence sounded like a bad cliché.  His first and last, as though they’d been one, when there had in fact been countless others in between.

His last in no way resembled his first.  He’d been on the shorter end of the spectrum, clumsy on his feet and worse when he wasn’t.  Sunggyu remembered the wide-eyed panic as he’d scrambled around, ducking and dodging rather than fighting back—not that there was much he could’ve done against the speed and power of a gun.  It was almost amusing.  Sunggyu couldn’t recall ever coming across such a pathetic demon before, one that hid like a coward and shouted that they needn’t do this, that they could simply part ways, that they would never have to cross paths again.

Frankly, it disgusted Sunggyu that this scum would prey on the weak yet trembled at the prospect of his own demise.  Why did he even assume demons understood a shred of decency?  He’d had enough experience to know otherwise.

Sunggyu had chased him all the way to the building’s roof before pretending to consider the proposition.  When the other had peeked around the vent he’d been crouching behind, the shadow of a timidly hopeful smile tugging the corners of his thin lips, Sunggyu shot him, watching blankly as his head snapped back from the force.

He should’ve left then, after taking the necessary precautions with the body.  To this day, Sunggyu wasn’t sure what made him stay, and he wasn’t sure whether his decision had been a curse or a blessing in disguise.

One moment he was watching the flame consuming the demon’s heart dwindle to nothing, the next he was shoved callously aside, knocking him off his feet and sending him skidding towards the opposite balustrade.  Sunggyu was immediately tense, livid at being caught unawares, rolling upright and ignoring the sting of his scraped side as he raised his gun.  Safety off and barrel still warm from his most recent kill, Sunggyu kept his finger poised over the trigger as he observed the sight before him in morbid fascination.

Sunggyu couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone hold someone as dearly as the woman clung to that creature.

A woman had flown to the side of the fallen, clutching his mangled body to her own.  Her hair was as fiery and wild as the fire that had burned away the heart of the other, but not even that mess of tangled tresses could obscure the horror and agony distorting her fair features.  Shaking fingers reached over and closed the male’s vacant eyes, trailed down to brush against pale lips, moved further to press upon the gaping hole of his chest in evident distress.

A bone-chilling howl tore through the night as the woman cried to the heavens, the corpse of her dead lover pooled in her lap.

It shouldn’t have disturbed Sunggyu, but it did, the sound haunting him as she succumbed to sobs.  Could demons even love?  Could they actually feel something so warm, so pure, so human?  Sure, he had to have known instinctively that these creatures somehow formed bonds.  Even if it was only to breed, there must’ve been shreds of attachment somewhere in the monsters’ world, be they the ties of community, companionship, or parenthood.  Yet he’d never witnessed them, much less come across such grief at loss.

Not thinking or feeling or caring got a tad harder with her wails ringing in his ears.

But only a tad, he was sure.

“On your feet,” Sunggyu called, finding his voice.

She paid him no heed.

“I said, on your feet.”

“Go to hell,” she hissed in reply.  She looked up then, fixing the Hunter with her most scathing glare.  “You’re no better,” she spat, eyes narrowed with hatred yet glassy with tears, “You think your kind’s so noble when you kill just like demons, if not worse.  You know nothing.  You’re nothing but a glorified murderer.”

Sunggyu snarled.  “I don’t need a monster lecturing me on ethics.”  Why was he even listening to her still?  He cocked his gun, aiming for her forehead without batting a lash.  Dead center, a clean kill—he would grant her that kindness.

“No, the only monster here’s you.”  With that, she thoughtlessly flung herself from the roof’s edge as the trigger was pulled, beloved clasped to her chest as they freefell down the stories.  The bullet whizzed past her ear, nicking flesh, but she swallowed the screech from the searing pain for there were greater matters at hand.

Gaping, Sunggyu rushed to the ledge and peered down.  He scanned the ground, devoid of splattered carnage, scanned the passing crowds, ignorant of what had occurred, scanned for any sign of that woman hanging onto dear life from whatever might’ve broken her fall.

He found no trace, nor could he tell how he felt about that.  What should’ve been agitation for allowing her to escape was instead a hazy discomfort he hadn’t realized he still possessed after all these years.  Perhaps it’d been a mere figment of his imagination, but Sunggyu could’ve sworn he’d seen her bleed red.

It had taken longer than usual to cleanse the stain of gore from his hands that night.

A mirthless chuckle snapped Sunggyu from his musings.  “I see you were expecting me.”

And so he had—the anniversary of her lover’s death somehow became an anniversary of sorts for him too.

“You must know why I’m here, Hunter.”

In lieu of answering, Sunggyu commented, “He was my last.”  Blurted, more precisely, though he liked to think he had more finesse than a confessing boy.  He didn’t know why he’d felt the need to tell her, kicked himself over how he must’ve sounded like some kid trying too hard to please and waiting to be praised, but the words had been weighing on his mind.

Sunggyu glanced away from the cityscape, turning his back against the brightness of the metropolis and facing the woman who’d been standing behind him.  He crossed his arms across his chest, scrutinizing her.

She was exactly as he remembered.  He wondered briefly if anyone’s held her in the past year, just wrapped her tightly in their arms, like her beloved must have while he’d been alive.

“…I hope you know that giving up won’t solve things,” she said slowly.  Sunggyu wondered what was running through her mind, for her face betrayed nothing—was she suspicious of him?  Relieved?  Elated?  Wary?  “But this is your life, and I guess it’s not my place to tell you how to live it.”

Sunggyu smirked, choking back a scoff in the back of his throat.  “You mean you plan to let me live?”

Her lips curled, derision obvious—an eye for an eye, she fully intended reclaim everything that’d been ripped from her.  “Point, but know that I’d be disappointed.”

Smirking, Sunggyu withdrew his gun.  It’d been worth a try.  “And here I thought you’d be happy, considering the things you said last time.”

“There’s no joy in an unearned victory.”

Testing the weight of the firearm in his grip, Sunggyu considered the other contemplatively.  Truth be told, he hadn’t meant to retire until after he’d confirmed the question that’d been nagging him, at the soonest.

Besides, his clip still had eight rounds since the last time he’d used the weapon.