Mu-ryeong’s Spirit

The hour of dawn was the moment when the yin energy, which had surged through the night, began to recede. The dim light of the moon, which had faintly illuminated its surroundings, and the pitch-black darkness that had settled over the land both gradually faded as morning broke.
However, in June, on the brink of summer’s sweltering heat, the school, drenched in monsoon rain, remained steeped in an eerie atmosphere even in the early morning. Was it because the sun had yet to shine through, or was it the damp, suffocating air? The atmosphere felt as though nothing unusual would be surprising should it happen.

"It's not here..."
As the rain let up slightly, a hoarse voice trembled in the air. Next to the entrance of the newly built annex, a figure crouched down before the flower bed surrounding the building, letting out muffled sobs.
"Not here either... not here..."

The student repeated the same words over and over, digging into the wet soil with bare hands. Flowers and grass were trampled in the process, and jagged stones occasionally surfaced, leaving scratches on their fingertips. Their nails turned pitch black from the dirt, but they showed no sign of pain, only continuing the same frantic action.
"Why... why isn't it here..."
When they had dug through all the soil before them, the student staggered upright and shifted to another spot. Crouching down once again, they resumed clawing at the flower bed, tearing through the damp earth. Just as the sticky mud clung heavily to their hands, their shoulders flinched.

"No... no, this can't be..."
Their gaze turned toward the direction where the sun was rising. Though hidden behind thick clouds, the gradual brightness in the surroundings was undeniable. A little more time, and the darkness that had cloaked the school would vanish without a trace.
"I have to find it... I have to find it fast..."

With trembling hands, they groped through the flower bed once more. Dirt, grass, stones—gripping them all in desperation, only to suddenly go limp and let everything slip from their grasp. Their body collapsed sideways, crumpling to the ground.
Their unmoving form lay sprawled on the wet earth, limbs slack. If not for the occasional twitching of their fingers, they could have easily been mistaken for a corpse. By then, the sky had brightened completely, and the rain, which had stopped momentarily, began to drizzle once more.
"......"

A faint tremor flickered through their eyelashes. After several slow twitches of their brow, their eyelids finally lifted. Staring blankly into space, they sluggishly pushed themselves upright.
"Ah..."
The drizzle soon turned into a steady downpour. Their hair, their clothes—everything was soaked through, yet they sat motionless, staring down at their hands.

"Haah..."
After what felt like an eternity, a deep sigh escaped their lips. Their gaze, fixed on their dirt-covered hands, darkened ominously. They no longer resembled the desperate figure who had been frantically digging just moments ago
***.

Three days had passed since the monsoon began. The rain showed no sign of stopping, falling relentlessly. Even when it briefly let up, the air remained thick with moisture, like a spreading fog. The heavy humidity muffled sounds, creating an unsettling echo throughout the classrooms and hallways, filling the school with a restless energy.
"This sky bridge is seriously well-made. If they hadn’t built the annex, we wouldn’t have this, right?"
As always, the three of them had lunch together before heading across the sky bridge that connected the buildings. Seung-joo, impressed, let out an appreciative remark, prompting Mu-ryeong to frown with a conflicted expression.
"The bridge is nice... but the annex is another story."

Earlier this year, the annex had been newly constructed, and with it came the sky bridge linking it to the main building. Since the cafeteria was right in front of the annex, they would have had to walk through the rain otherwise—but now, they could cross without getting wet. While it was undeniably convenient on rainy days, Mu-ryeong still had a negative view of the annex’s construction.
"The land there isn’t good."
"Wow, Kim Mu-ryeong, you sound just like Mu-heun."

Seung-joo slung an arm over Mu-ryeong’s shoulder. He had planned to playfully tighten his grip on his friend’s neck, but something made him stop mid-motion. A sharp sensation ran through him, an awareness of being watched. Slowly lifting his head, he found himself locking eyes with someone staring in his direction.
"...Ugh."
A sigh slipped out naturally. Seung-joo removed his arm from Mu-ryeong’s shoulder and stepped slightly away. Mu-ryeong, puzzled, glanced at him.

"What’s wrong?"
"Forget it. You wouldn’t get it."
The stare that had been fixated on them quickly disappeared, as if it had never been there. Seung-joo clicked his tongue inwardly as he turned away, still irritated. Even from the side, Ki Hwan-young looked annoyingly handsome.

"So, why is the land bad? What’s there?"
It had been three days since the three of them started eating together. Hwan-young had settled into their routine so naturally that it was hard to tell he had ever kept his distance. While he still maintained his reserved demeanor, Seung-joo noticed subtle changes. He waited for them to finish eating instead of leaving first, responded when Mu-ryeong spoke to him, and generally seemed more present.
The problem was that, from time to time, he shot Seung-joo wary glances—full of suspicion.

"You know how elementary schools are sometimes built on land with strong yin energy? People say the pure yang energy of children suppresses it."
Hwan-young’s gaze slowly shifted to Mu-ryeong. It was different from the way he had looked at Seung-joo earlier. This wasn’t suspicion—it was something else. Curiosity, perhaps? Observation? Whatever it was, Mu-ryeong didn’t seem to notice. But Seung-joo did.
"It’s the same here. This school was built on land filled with yin energy."

Mu-ryeong’s brow furrowed slightly as he spoke. His voice, naturally high-pitched, had a calm and measured tone that made it pleasant to listen to despite its sharpness. He cast a brief glance back at the path they had walked, jerking his thumb behind him.
"But for years, that energy was kept under control. Then, they went and disturbed it by building the annex. And of all places, they put the third-year classrooms there, which means there’s no yang energy left to suppress it."
Third-years. The most mentally and emotionally drained students in the school. Exhausted from studying, burdened by exams, and overwhelmed by the pressure of deciding their futures. Instead of suppressing the yin energy, they were more likely to be consumed by it.

"That’s why the incident at the flower bed happened. Something that had been buried properly got stirred up again."
“The Flower Bed?”
Hwan-young immediately echoed the word. Mu-ryeong lifted his head, meeting his gaze.

“The English teacher’s flower bed. A while ago, third-year seniors kept fainting there. Turns out, the ones with weak spiritual energy were getting possessed.”
It was a well-known rumor that had stirred up quite the commotion in school, but Hwan-young might not have heard about it. After all, rumors only spread if someone told you. The moment their eyes met, Hwan-young’s expression twitched slightly before he slowly parted his lips.
“Possession… you mean a ghost entering someone?”

“Yeah, another soul taking over your body.”
“Then what happens?”
The string of questions made Mu-ryeong chuckle before he even realized it. It was an oddly out-of-place reaction, causing Hwan-young to raise an eyebrow. Mu-ryeong quickly waved his hand in apology.

“Ah, sorry… I wasn’t mocking you.”
It was just… kind of cute. From the way he had phrased his questions, like a "wannabe exorcist," to his sheer lack of basic knowledge about spiritual matters—Hwan-young seemed to know nothing about things someone with spiritual energy should at least be aware of. Yet, he wasn’t disinterested either. Whenever the topic came up, he asked every question that came to mind.
“When someone gets possessed, they lose control over their body and have no memory of what they did. Even after the possession ends, they still don’t remember anything.”

“So, do they just live like that forever?”
“No, of course not… There are ways to release a possession. If the ghost is weak, the possession can break naturally when morning comes.”
“Yeah, you know how people talk about sleepwalking? At least half of those cases are actually mild possessions.”

Seung-joo, who had been quietly listening, chimed in. He wasn’t as knowledgeable as Mu-ryeong, but he knew quite a bit about this stuff too.
“They say people with weak energy get possessed easily. That’s because of their low spiritual energy. Honestly, someone like me, who has nothing at all, doesn’t get possessed at all.”
At first, Seung-joo found it strange that Mu-ryeong was so willing to explain all this. Even if he had spiritual sight, it wasn’t like he needed such in-depth knowledge. But because Hwan-young was listening so intently, even Seung-joo started to feel like sharing was worth it.

“…How do you even know all this?”
Hwan-young’s tone made it clear he genuinely couldn’t understand. What was natural for Mu-ryeong and Seung-joo felt completely foreign to him. Then again, in just the past three days, he had already learned about how souls turn into vengeful spirits and the different types of ghost bindings.
“Well, I learned it at home…”

At some point, they had arrived at the floor where the second-year classrooms were. Mu-ryeong turned to say goodbye to Hwan-young, who was heading to Class 3, but instead, he suddenly grabbed his wrist and pulled him along.
“Oh, right. Come to my class for a sec. I was gonna give you some candy, but I forgot to bring it with me.”
“I don’t need—”

“I’ll let you pick the flavor.”
Hwan-young’s opinion didn’t matter. As he was being dragged along, Seung-joo shook his head and muttered about how Mu-ryeong looked like a kidnapper. Mu-ryeong, unfazed, even threw in a responsible warning about not following strangers just because they offered candy.
“Oh, and while we’re at it, give me your number. My phone’s in my classroom.”

“…My number?”
“Yeah. You don’t know mine, do you?”
Despite seeing each other constantly, they had never exchanged numbers. There had never been a need—they ran into each other at school every day anyway.

“Just in case something comes up—”
Mu-ryeong suddenly stopped in his tracks. His sentence was left hanging as his lips pressed into a thin line.
“What’s wrong?”

Seung-joo asked, but Mu-ryeong didn’t answer. He simply narrowed his eyes, focusing intently straight ahead.
At the end of his gaze, in front of Classroom 7, a male student stood anxiously by the door, peering inside with a nervous expression.