Mu-ryeong’s Spirit

Both of them instinctively turned to Hwan-young at the same time—Mu-ryeong out of habit, Seung-joo out of sheer bewilderment. It was surprising enough that Hwan-young had inserted himself into their conversation, but the fact that he was interested in something as trivial as their childhood friendship? That was unexpected. Even Hwan-young himself seemed caught off guard by his own words, his lips pressing shut a second too late.
"Yeah, our families have always been close."

Mu-ryeong responded casually, resuming his meal. It was the same automatic answer he gave every time someone asked about his relationship with Seung-joo. Taking large bites of food, he finally acknowledged Seung-joo’s awkward glances and added another comment.
"He knows I’m an exorcist."
"…Hey."

Startled, Seung-joo nudged Mu-ryeong with his elbow. He had no idea what had prompted Mu-ryeong to blurt that out so suddenly, but it was throwing him off completely. A rumor that Mu-ryeong could see ghosts was one thing, but outright admitting he was an exorcist? That was messy.
"What the hell are you saying in a place like this—"
"Can he see ghosts too?"

Hwan-young’s abrupt question cut him off. Seung-joo was the only one startled—again. There was something unnerving about the way Hwan-young’s voice lowered, making it sound even more ominous. Seung-joo scowled, rubbing his arms instinctively.
"Do I look like I can? Ugh, just thinking about it is awful."
From childhood to now, Seung-joo had always considered himself lucky that he couldn’t see ghosts. He wasn’t like Kim Mu-ryeong, with his iron nerves, nor did he have the thrill-seeking tendencies of Mu-ryeong’s older siblings. He just wanted to live a normal, regular life.

"Is that so?"
Hwan-young murmured, his gaze shifting elsewhere. Then, as if it were nothing, he added,
"I can see them."

"…."
Fantastic. Just what Seung-joo didn’t want to know. And if that wasn’t enough, Hwan-young casually jerked his chin toward the empty seat beside Seung-joo and said,
"And there’s one sitting right next to you."

"Wow… I really didn’t need to hear that."
Seung-joo shuddered violently, dragging his chair closer to Mu-ryeong. Hwan-young’s eyebrow twitched slightly, but Seung-joo was too busy avoiding eye contact to notice.
Mu-ryeong, who had just swallowed his last bite, turned toward them.

"There’s nothing there."
"…."
The sheer audacity. Even as Seung-joo gawked at him in disbelief, Hwan-young didn’t so much as blink. If anything, his blank expression was what finally made Seung-joo roll his eyes and mutter,
"This guy is seriously unhinged…."

What the hell was that about? What had he done to deserve that kind of prank? His already startled heart felt like it was tightening in his chest.
Not that it mattered—Mu-ryeong remained as nonchalant as ever.
"Stop teasing him. He’s already a scaredy-cat."

"…."
Wasn’t the real offense being labeled a "scaredy-cat" in front of Hwan-young? Seung-joo was about to protest when Mu-ryeong abruptly stood up with his tray. Just like that, he had been demoted to the coward of the group. With an unimpressed scowl, Seung-joo gathered his utensils, half the questions he had wanted to ask now completely erased from his mind by Hwan-young’s one unsettling comment.
"So, are you like Kim Mu-ryeong too?"

As soon as they left the cafeteria, Seung-joo lowered his voice, his curiosity overcoming his irritation. Both Mu-ryeong and Hwan-young turned to him at the same time, looking equally puzzled.
Seung-joo, scanning their surroundings cautiously, leaned in and whispered,
"Do you go around hunting things too?"

"…Are you asking if I’m an exorcist?"
"No, I’m asking why neither of you have a single ounce of discretion. What if someone overhears?!"
Even back in the cafeteria, they had talked about ghosts and exorcisms like it was nothing. Sure, there weren’t any students nearby now, but what if word got out? They would be the ones dealing with the fallout.

"Relax, I already checked before speaking."
Mu-ryeong’s voice was steady, unfazed. Despite appearances, Mu-ryeong was always meticulous about these things. If he said it was safe, it was safe. He’d grown up in an exorcist family, after all. And considering how often they had talked about similar topics in class without rumors spreading, it was clear he was careful.
"And he’s not an exorcist. He just has the sight."

Seung-joo nodded, understanding. That made sense. If Hwan-young was an exorcist, there would’ve been no need to hire Mu-ryeong in the first place.
That was the extent of Seung-joo’s curiosity. He didn’t usually pry into Mu-ryeong’s work unless absolutely necessary. He had only asked because Hwan-young’s abilities made him wonder why he needed Mu-ryeong’s help in the first place.
Even after the conversation ended, Hwan-young’s expression remained tight. His gaze flickered between Mu-ryeong and Seung-joo before he finally spoke, slowly,

"…If he can’t even see ghosts, how does he know about exorcism?"
"Because we’re close?"
Mu-ryeong answered instantly, grinning playfully. Seung-joo also nodded in agreement.

"His family is from an exorcist lineage. When your families are close, you just pick things up over time."
It was a simplified explanation, but easy to understand. Hwan-young fell silent for a moment, then asked another question.
"How close are your families?"

Seung-joo squinted at him.
"Since when were you this curious?"
It was strange. Hwan-young had never shown much interest in personal topics before. Yet now, he was full of questions. Even so, Seung-joo answered without much hesitation.

"Mu-ryeong’s family has been protecting ours for generations."
"…Protecting?"
That wasn’t a phrase you heard often in the 21st century. What did he mean by protecting? The way Hwan-young looked at them made it clear he thought it sounded ridiculous.

Seung-joo hesitated, frowning slightly.
The way he said it, it did sound weird.
"Something about repaying a debt…?"

"It’s just something between the adults."
Mu-ryeong interrupted Seung-joo’s response smoothly, his tone casual. Then, he turned to Hwan-young with an easy-going smile.
"Honestly, if you ask the kids, they’d say Seung-joo is my dad. Who’s protecting who?"

Seung-joo was the one who always took care of Mu-ryeong when he dozed off, the one who carried him all the way to the cafeteria when necessary. Whatever arrangements their families had didn’t really apply to them—not in any way that mattered. At least, that was the message Mu-ryeong wanted to get across.
"…Yeah, he’s right. It’s all just old history now."
With Seung-joo agreeing, Hwan-young didn’t press any further. By then, they had reached Class 3, signaling the end of their conversation. Mu-ryeong gave a casual See you later before heading toward Class 7 with Seung-joo.

Click. The back door of Class 7 shut behind them.
Some students had already returned from lunch, scattered across the classroom. Seung-joo, who had remained silent since they entered, finally turned to Mu-ryeong once they sat down.
"Kim Mu-ryeong."

One hand resting on the back of his chair, the other on his desk, he looked straight at Mu-ryeong and asked,
"Does touching Ki Hwan-young hurt you?"
"…."

The question was abrupt, but there was no need for further explanation. Mu-ryeong’s eyes darted around as if checking their surroundings, his face visibly uneasy. That alone was a clear enough answer.
Seung-joo extended his right hand—the one that had recently been in a cast.
"The day I hurt my hand, I grabbed his arm."

It had been their first real conversation, and Seung-joo had instinctively reached out and grabbed him. Later that day, on his way home, he had gotten into a minor accident in an alleyway.
"And that same day, he told me to go home with you."
‘Then make sure you go home with Kim Mu-ryeong today.’

Hwan-young had specifically warned him to avoid main roads, to be careful in alleyways, and to watch for anything falling from above. The moment the accident happened, Seung-joo had remembered his words—but he had chosen not to bring it up.
"That was the work of the evil spirit attached to him, wasn’t it?"
"…."

"And he knows about it too?"
"Well…."
Mu-ryeong shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. Then, as if genuinely curious, he asked,

"Didn’t you already figure that out?"
If not the second part, at least the first. It made no sense that Seo Seung-joo, of all people, wouldn’t have noticed. He knew better than anyone how people afflicted by evil spirits tended to get hurt. Maybe he had ignored the signs, worried his parents would panic or that Mu-ryeong would overexert himself.
"Hey…."

Seung-joo grit his teeth, eyes narrowing in frustration. There was so much he wanted to say, but if he cut out all the nagging, there wasn’t much left. The best he could do was mutter,
"Is that why you gave me that talisman?"
Mu-ryeong didn’t deny it. Instead, he simply grinned like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He had figured Seung-joo would find out eventually, so he might as well act shameless about it.

"I didn’t really have a choice. You’re not supposed to talk about evil spirits, but I wasn’t going to just let you get hurt."
"For someone who supposedly follows rules, why the hell haven’t you done anything about the spirit on Ki Hwan-young yet? You should’ve contacted his family and had it dealt with ages ago."
Seung-joo’s words were completely valid, and Mu-ryeong didn’t argue. He just laughed sheepishly—the same awkward expression Seolgi had when caught doing something he shouldn’t.

Instead of responding, Mu-ryeong smoothly changed the subject.
"Now that you know, don’t bring up your family in front of him."
"Do I look like an idiot? Of course, I won’t."

Seung-joo scoffed. So that was why Mu-ryeong had brushed off the whole tradition thing earlier. Normally, he was the last person to be indifferent about it. He must have dumbed it down so Hwan-young wouldn’t feel guilty.
"Now that I think about it, his expression was weird even when I caught him from falling on the stairs."
Seung-joo exhaled a quiet sigh, shaking out his wrist. There was still a faint bruise, but he could move his hand without issue now. He suddenly regretted ever complaining about his cast in front of Hwan-young. That was probably why he had reacted the way he did.

"So that’s why you keep sticking around him…."
"I’m not sticking around him."
Mu-ryeong protested immediately, but Seung-joo ignored him, muttering, Yeah, sure. Then, scowling, he added,

"I don’t care what you do, but at least protect yourself first."
The words were quiet, but they carried more sincerity than anything else he had said that day.
Mu-ryeong, knowing that, could only offer a faint, apologetic smile.

No matter how much Seung-joo worried, the next person Mu-ryeong protected would never be himself.
Protecting others—that had been his conviction since childhood. And it had never once changed.