Mu-ryeong’s Spirit

Ten won per task. Even if they weren’t human, wasn’t that a bit too stingy?
Mu-ryeong let out a playful laugh and grabbed Hwan-young’s wrist. His skin was cooler than usual, likely due to the rain.

“They don’t just take money. Any old object works too—it doesn’t have to be cash.”
Hwan-young followed Mu-ryeong without a word toward the annex entrance. The door was locked, but it didn’t matter; they just needed a place to stay dry. Mu-ryeong stepped under the building’s overhang first, took off his raincoat, and set down his bag.
"I forgot to bring ten-won coins yesterday, so I couldn’t ask them for help. One time, I promised to pay them later, but they absolutely refused to do it again."

A rush of cool air washed over him as soon as he shed the raincoat. Wearing plastic in this humid rain was unbearable. Somehow, Hwan-young remained unbothered, still wrapped up in his coat.
“How many do you have?”
“Huh?”

“The goblins. How many are there?”
“Oh…”
Mu-ryeong paused mid-motion, fanning his damp shirt, then rolled his eyes. He thought about correcting Hwan-young—not ‘have,’ but ‘keep company’—but decided to let it go.

“About three.”
“So those were all of them just now.”
“Yeah, pretty much…”

Hwan-young didn’t ask any more questions and took off his raincoat as well. Unlike Mu-ryeong, he neatly folded it and placed it aside. Mu-ryeong glanced at his own carelessly discarded coat but shrugged—it didn’t really matter.
“Sit down. It’s gonna take a while.”
Mu-ryeong patted the spot next to him, and Hwan-young lowered himself beside him. He bent one knee up while stretching the other leg out, unintentionally creating a visual comparison between their leg lengths. The difference was noticeable. Mu-ryeong stretched his own legs, pointing his toes toward the distant tips of Hwan-young’s shoes.

“You’ve got really long legs.”
“…….”
“You’re about the same as my brother.”

Hwan-young slowly extended his other leg. Their feet lined up side by side, the contrast in size just as apparent as their height difference.
“……Is your brother tall?”
“Yeah, way taller than Seung-joo.”
Mu-ryeong raised his hand above his head to illustrate the height difference. Seung-joo wasn’t exactly short, but Mu-heun was big—about the same as Hwan-young.

“My whole family’s tall. My parents, my sister, all of them.”
“…….”
Hwan-young stared at Mu-ryeong’s face with an expression so obvious that Mu-ryeong smirked and raised his eyebrows.

“I’m gonna grow just as tall.”
“……Yeah?”
“Yup. My brother and sister hit a late growth spurt.”

That’s why Seung-joo always reassured him, saying he was still growing. Mu-heun and Mu-yeon had kept getting taller well into their twenties. Although, to be fair, they had always been tall, while Mu-ryeong was just hoping he’d catch up.
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
“……No, I do.”

Hwan-young answered slowly, turning his gaze forward. From the side, his eyelashes looked especially long and even. His eyes, with faint double eyelids, carried a naturally sharp look, but Mu-ryeong had never found them intimidating.
“It’s true. Check again in two years.”
Mu-ryeong wiggled his toes playfully. Hwan-young’s dark eyes followed the small movement. Then, as if struck by a thought, he loosened his tie and leaned his head back against the annex door.

The sound of rain filled the space between them. The damp air made Hwan-young’s voice feel closer than it was.
“Why are you looking for the time capsule?”
Mu-ryeong tilted his head back against the door as well, answering simply.

"Because that’s the only way to help them pass on."
“Pass on?”
“Yeah. There’s a spirit that can’t move on.”

He stared at the falling rain. Droplets splashed in the small puddle forming near the entrance.
"He buried a letter under a tree, planning to confess to the girl he liked. But he never got the chance to give it to her."
Mu-ryeong’s tone was calm, but the weight behind the words lingered.

"You remember the big tree behind the old school building, right? From when we were first years?"
“The tree…”
Hwan-young narrowed his eyes slightly. Of course, he remembered. The massive tree behind the abandoned building—every Haeyeon High student knew about it.

“The one they cut down last year?”
“Yeah, that one.”
Even back then, there had been a lot of debate. Some students had pushed for the new building to be constructed around the tree, but in the end, the decision hadn’t been theirs to make.

"We probably won’t find it. Even if we do, it’s likely somewhere we can’t reach."
It wasn’t resignation—it was acceptance. They would do their best, but some things were simply impossible. There was no point in clinging to what couldn’t be changed when there were other ways to help.
“So if we can’t find the letter, I’m going to help him confess in another way.”

Convincing him to let go was the only option. Finding the girl would be difficult, but it was still easier than digging under a demolished tree.
"Spirits have to resolve their regrets before they can pass on, huh?"
“Well…”

Mu-ryeong trailed off, his words stretching into an indistinct murmur. He bent his knees, wrapping his arms around them before resting his chin on top.
"It’s not always like that."
There was another way to help spirits pass on besides resolving their regrets. But Mu-ryeong rarely chose that method. He believed that respecting those who had left this world unfairly meant giving them the choice, rather than forcing them into oblivion.

"Can I ask you something?"
Tilting his head slightly, Mu-ryeong blinked. Hwan-young, still leaning against the door, merely shifted his gaze toward him—a silent gesture to go ahead.
"How did you get onto the rooftop?"

The main building, where the first- and second-year classrooms were, had its rooftop permanently locked for various reasons. An automatic locking system was supposed to be installed soon, but even after that, it would remain inaccessible. No matter how Mu-ryeong thought about it, Hwan-young shouldn’t have been able to sit on that ledge.
"It just opened."
Hwan-young’s tone was casual, as if it wasn’t worth thinking about. Then, after a brief pause, his brows knitted slightly, as if something didn’t add up.

"Now that I think about it… how did I open it?"
"……."
Mu-ryeong’s eyes twitched slightly. A realization dawned on him, an unsettling possibility forming in his mind.

If it wasn’t Hwan-young who unlocked the door, then there was only one possible culprit.
It was the vengeful spirit.
The longer a spirit lingered after death, the stronger their energy became. Over time, their presence grew dense with lingering resentment, and with enough strength, they could manipulate their surroundings—unlocking doors, breaking small machines, disrupting the world of the living in subtle but unmistakable ways.

"……Maybe it wasn’t fully locked."
Mu-ryeong feigned ignorance. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Hwan-young the truth—that the spirit haunting him had been the one to guide him to the rooftop.
I should suggest installing a fence up there.

Even if the door opened again, at least there would be no immediate danger. Of course, preventing it from happening in the first place would be even better.
"Aren’t you tired?"
The goblins wouldn’t return for a while. Mu-ryeong was used to long waits, but this was probably an exhausting ordeal for Hwan-young.

"If you’re sleepy, get some rest. I’ll wake you up."
"……."
Hwan-young’s quiet gaze landed on him, lingering for a moment before dropping to Mu-ryeong’s bandaged hand. He didn’t seem drowsy—if anything, it looked like he had something he wanted to say.

"……Do you always stay out like this at night?"
His voice was low, almost hesitant, as if he had thought about asking for a while.
The way he said alone—Mu-ryeong wasn’t sure why, but it felt strangely weighted.

"Not always…"
"……."
"Only when I need to."

The nights stretched long, often spent waiting endlessly for the right spirit to appear. Sometimes, he would leave empty-handed, but most of the time, he remained in one place until sunrise, unable to leave until he was sure his task was done.
"Usually, I have the goblins with me."
That was why his night wanderings never felt lonely or unbearable. Of course, even without them, Mu-ryeong would have kept going—it was simply what he did.

"But tonight’s better since you’re here."
He let out a quiet laugh, his smile soft and content. Having company made a difference. At least he had someone to talk to.
"It gets boring sometimes."

"……."
"Though you’re probably going to be exhausted tomorrow…"
Mu-ryeong added, half apologetic, half amused.

Hwan-young responded without hesitation.
"One night without sleep isn’t a big deal."
Seung-joo would have been horrified to hear that. He treated proper sleep like a sacred ritual and constantly nagged Mu-ryeong for staying up late. But unlike Seung-joo, who acted like missing a few hours would bring impending doom, Hwan-young didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

"Next time, too—"
Squish.
The sound of wet earth being stepped on cut through the rain.

Both of them stilled.
Mu-ryeong turned his head sharply, narrowing his eyes in the direction of the approaching footsteps.
"……."

"……What is it?"
Hwan-young’s voice was cautious, but Mu-ryeong didn’t answer immediately. His focus was locked onto the figure emerging from the rain, walking toward them with steady steps.
Someone drenched to the bone, taking slow but deliberate strides, seemingly unaffected by the downpour.

A student.
And not just any student.
"……I knew it."

Mu-ryeong exhaled, recognizing the figure instantly.
The student who had asked for his help.