Mu-ryeong’s Spirit

“Take care of yourself while you're at it.”
Instead of giving an empty promise, Mu-ryeong simply scrunched his nose. It was better not to make promises he had no intention of keeping.

Seung-joo, knowing this all too well, only sighed in irritation but didn’t bother lecturing him further.
“It’s not like this is hard for me.”
It really wasn’t. If anything, the one struggling was the student who kept waking up in unfamiliar places, not Mu-ryeong. Sleep deprivation could be fixed by actually sleeping, but possessions—once broken—tended to repeat.

Outside, the rain began to pour harder, tapping rhythmically against the windowpane. The murmuring voices in the classroom blended with the sound of the downpour. Mu-ryeong narrowed his eyes at the storm-darkened sky.
Hopefully, it doesn’t rain tonight.
That was his only wish.

***
At an hour when everyone was asleep, the school stood empty and silent.
The campus was locked down after hours, as always. A security camera blinked atop the firmly closed school gates, watching over the entrance. The outer walls surrounding the school were far too high for anyone to climb over.

Yet, a lone student approached the gates with sluggish, unsteady steps.
Though his eyes were open, they were unfocused—clouded and hollow.
One step. Another.

As he reached the iron gates, he slowly pushed against them with both hands.
Creak.
The gates groaned as they swung open.

They should have been locked.
Yet, they moved without the slightest resistance, as if inviting him inside.
The moment the student stepped through, the gates slammed shut behind him with a loud clang, locking themselves once more.

“I have to find it… fast….”
His steps quickened, losing their hesitation. Though he still swayed, he walked with newfound determination.
Crossing the deserted field, he made his way toward the flower bed in front of the annex.
“Quickly….”

The flower bed, once filled with blooming plants, was now barren, save for patches of dirt and a few weeds. A sign stuck into the ground read: “No Entry.”
The entire area looked pitifully empty, but the student’s expression remained unchanged. Without hesitation, he crouched down and reached toward the soil.
But just before his hands could touch the dirt—

A sudden whoosh of blue flames erupted before his eyes.
“…..”
His vacant pupils reflected the flickering glow of the fire.

Two small orbs of flame floated on either side of his face, hovering dangerously close.
The student’s gaze rolled sideways, following them, before his lips parted in a dazed murmur.
“Ah… Ah…”

Then, all at once, he flailed backward, toppling over.
But—
Before he could hit the ground, someone caught him from behind.

Strong arms steadied him, preventing his fall. A youthful voice scolded the floating flames in a firm yet gentle tone.
“Don’t scare him.”
The flames spun in place, dimming slightly. They almost looked… sulky.

As the student blinked in confusion, his once bright surroundings were suddenly plunged into darkness.
“Excuse me.”
It was Mu-ryeong.

His palm covered the student’s eyes as he spoke, his voice calm yet authoritative—like a teacher reprimanding a mischievous child.
Just as he had scolded the flames, his words carried both firmness and kindness.
“You shouldn’t enter someone else’s body without permission.”

“…..Ugh.”
A weak groan escaped the student’s lips. Mu-ryeong didn’t move his hand, instead sighing quietly.
His pale lips, drained of color, made Mu-ryeong’s heart ache with sympathy.

Is this just bad luck…?
How unfortunate did someone have to be to be possessed this easily?
One month ago, and now again tonight.

Mu-ryeong had caught him twice, but who knew how many other times it had happened?
At this point, seeing a shaman instead of a doctor would have been more effective than visiting the hospital for sleepwalking.
“Come out.”

“…No.”
“What?”
“No, no, no….”

The student shook his head violently.
Then, as if in a panic, he began thrashing, struggling in Mu-ryeong’s hold.
Mu-ryeong refused to let go, even as the student clawed desperately at the hands covering his face.

“No… I have to find it… I have to find it…!”
Mu-ryeong winced as the student’s nails scraped across his skin, drawing thin streaks of blood.
It stung, but he didn’t loosen his grip.

When a possession was this deep, it was best to keep the person’s eyes covered.
“Calm down—”
“Let me go!”

The student suddenly screamed, twisting sharply.
At the same moment, the blue flames flared up, their glow intensifying as they hovered protectively nearby—almost as if they were waiting for Mu-ryeong’s signal.
But instead of letting them act, Mu-ryeong simply tightened his arms around the student, holding him firmly in place.

His voice softened.
“I’ll find it for you.”
The student stiffened.

Mu-ryeong gently lowered his head, his breath warm against the cold night air.
“Just tell me what you’re looking for, and I’ll find it for you. I’m good at things like this.”
Silence.

The struggling stopped.
The student’s breath came out in short, ragged gasps, his body momentarily frozen.
Even without seeing his face, Mu-ryeong could tell—

He was hesitating.
Above them, the moon shone brightly in the clear sky.
For the first time in a while, it wasn’t raining.

Had his wish been granted?
But the weather alone wasn’t enough to make things go smoothly.
Because the moment Mu-ryeong relaxed his grip, the student suddenly shoved him away with all his strength.

And unfortunately, his elbow struck Mu-ryeong right in the gut.
“Ugh…!”
A short gasp left Mu-ryeong’s lips as he staggered, barely keeping his balance.

The student, now free, scrambled to his feet.
“I have to find it… I have to find it…!”
The student scrambled desperately toward the flower bed, crawling on hands and knees.

But the moment his hands touched the dirt—
A powerful grip seized the back of his collar.
With a whoosh, his body was yanked backward.

Thud!
He landed hard on his backside, dazed from the sudden force.
“…Ah. I miscalculated the strength a little.”

Mu-ryeong, who had somehow closed the distance in an instant, was standing over him, still holding his collar with his left hand. His expression was mildly regretful, and he clicked his tongue lightly.
Meanwhile, his right hand rubbed at his sore chest—right where he had been elbowed earlier.
“I’m fine, by the way.”

Mu-ryeong first focused on calming the wildly flickering flames around them. Ever since he had been knocked down, they had been darting frantically around the scene, leaving streaks of blue in the air. Their erratic movement was dizzying, forcing him to repeat stay still at least twice before they settled.
“Let me go—!”
The student struggled, thrashing violently.

He tried to push Mu-ryeong away again, but this time—
A sudden surge of spiritual energy coiled tightly around his body, binding him in place.
The student went rigid, his face freezing mid-motion.

“I could force it out, you know.”
Mu-ryeong watched as clarity slowly returned to the student's once-vacant eyes. His pupils, which had been unfocused and lost, began to sharpen.
Without breaking eye contact, Mu-ryeong raised his free hand and lightly rested it against the student’s throat.

He didn’t squeeze.
Didn’t even apply pressure.
But the touch alone was enough.

The energy wrapped around his fingers pulsed threateningly, the implied force more than enough to make the spirit inside hesitate.
“I’m trying to talk because I’d rather not use force.”
His voice was gentle—yet firm.

And it was enough.
The presence inside the student flinched and recoiled, cowering in fear.
Mu-ryeong focused his spiritual power, letting it ripple at his fingertips. This time, his tone hardened slightly.

“So, what’s it going to be?”
***
By morning, the rain had returned.

As the sun rose, the downpour began again, soaking the world in a cold, relentless drizzle.
Students arrived at school huddled under umbrellas, shaking out wet socks and hanging them alongside their dripping coats at the back of the classroom.
Seung-joo, watching this in horror, grimaced in disgust.

Then, sighing, he turned back to Mu-ryeong—who sat at his desk, hands resting on the table.
After a moment of studying them, Seung-joo flipped Mu-ryeong’s hands over, inspecting both sides.
There were fresh scratches across his knuckles and small cuts along his palms. The imprint of nail marks stood out sharply against his otherwise smooth skin.

“So, what you’re saying is….”
Seung-joo exhaled heavily, turning Mu-ryeong’s hands over again, his brows furrowing.
“You were digging through dirt with your bare hands?”

Mu-ryeong let out an awkward chuckle.
He wiggled his fingers slightly before lowering his gaze.
“Well… I didn’t have a shovel….”

“Ugh.”
Seung-joo shook his head in exasperation, pulling out a small first-aid kit from his bag. He had grown way too accustomed to patching up Mu-ryeong’s wounds.
As he grabbed a cotton swab and antiseptic, he muttered,

“Did you get mauled by a cat or something?”
The scratches were deep enough that anyone would assume it was an animal attack.
But Seung-joo knew better.

“…So? What about the request?”
Mu-ryeong went silent.
His usually bright gaze dimmed slightly, the corners of his mouth lowering just a fraction.

Seeing that, Seung-joo clicked his tongue.
He had seen this exact expression before.
It wasn’t frustration.

It wasn’t sadness, either.
It was helplessness.
The kind that came from knowing something was beyond fixing.

“You couldn’t solve it, huh.”
The words were spoken carelessly, almost thrown out there.
But they hit the mark.

Mu-ryeong exhaled softly, rubbing at the bandage Seung-joo had placed over the deepest scratch.
“It’s not that I can’t solve it… it’s that I might not be able to.”
Seung-joo frowned.

“What’s the difference?”
Mu-ryeong flexed his fingers, testing the slight sting in his palm before sighing.
“It’s just… it might not even be there anymore.”

“…A time capsule?”
Earlier that morning—
The spirit inside the student had spoken.

Once it realized Mu-ryeong wasn’t letting go, it finally answered.
And what it said was unexpected.
“I’m looking for a time capsule.”

Mu-ryeong had blinked at first, thrown off by the simplicity of it.
But when he pressed for details, the story slowly unraveled.
“There was a girl I liked….”

A long time ago—when the spirit was still alive—he had been a student at this very school.
And back then, he had buried a time capsule with the girl he liked.
“We made a promise to open it together on graduation day.”

Inside the capsule, he had placed a letter.
A confession he had never been brave enough to say out loud.
But—

“I never got to tell her….”
Mu-ryeong had known.
Immediately, he had known.

This boy—this spirit—had never made it to graduation.
He had died before he could keep his promise.
So even after death, his soul remained, searching for what he had left behind.

His final words, sealed away in a box beneath the earth.
But the real problem wasn’t just the ghost’s lingering regret—
It was the fact that the “earth” he buried it in didn’t exist anymore.

“Where did you bury it?” Mu-ryeong had asked, already fearing the answer.
“In the corner of the school… under a big tree….”
Mu-ryeong had gone silent.

Not because he didn’t know where that tree was.
But because he did.
Because that big tree—

Had been cut down when they demolished the old school building.
And after uprooting the land, they had built a brand-new annex right on top of it.