It was a cautious question. Despite the tension in his furrowed brows, his voice was as soft as a whisper of down. Hwan-young frowned as he looked at the round, monolid eyes staring at him and repeated the question.
"â¦What?"
"I asked if you're hurt."
Mu-ryeong spoke casually, glancing over at Hwan-young. He scanned himânot just his face, but his neck, shoulders, and even the back of his hands resting on the desk. Not satisfied, he leaned forward to check beneath the desk as well, but Hwan-youngâs voice, laced with reluctance, cut him off.
"I'm not hurt."
"â¦Really?"
There was a hint of doubt in Mu-ryeongâs slow response. He forced his expression to relax and leaned forward slightly. Ever since entering the classroom, he hadn't let his guard down for even a moment.
"When did your shoulders start feeling heavy?"
"â¦"
Hwan-young didnât answer. He kept his lips shut, his expression skeptical. Mu-ryeong scratched his cheek awkwardly, sensing the distrust in Hwan-youngâs gaze. His droopy eyes showed a trace of discomfort.
"â¦Why are you looking at me like that?"
"What do you mean, why?"
Hwan-young replied, his tone sharp, as if Mu-ryeong had just said something absurd. His lips curled into a crooked smirk.
"Your friend got hurt because of me. And thatâs it? Thatâs all you have to say?"
His voice was flat, but the edges were sharp. The sheer disbelief in his tone made Mu-ryeongâs brow furrow slightly.
"Why are you saying it like that?"
Without hesitation, he reached out and grabbed Hwan-youngâs hand resting on the desk. The moment Mu-ryeongâs warmth touched him, Hwan-young flinched, his fingers twitching. He tried to yank his hand away, but Mu-ryeong didnât let go. Instead, he wrapped both hands around it.
"Look, Iâm touching you, and Iâm not hurt."
"â¦"
Beyond his palm, he could feel Hwan-youngâs body heat. A clear, refreshing energy seeped through the contact. Hwan-young parted his lips slightly as if to say something, but Mu-ryeong beat him to it.
"Even if I get hurt on my way home later, that wouldnât be because of you."
"â¦"
"So donât talk like that."
His firm voice carried no excess emotion. It wasnât laced with sympathy or concernâjust plain, unwavering certainty. Yet, Hwan-young frowned, his lips pressing into a thin line.
"I didnât bring this up because I wanted pity."
Annoyed, he tried to pull his hand away. Or rather, he attempted to.
"I wasnât trying to comfort you either."
Mu-ryeongâs eyes, clear and unwavering, locked onto Hwan-youngâs. His voice was steady, but the sincerity behind it was undeniable. When Hwan-young didnât react, Mu-ryeong interlaced their fingers loosely.
"Thereâs no way a person could hurt someone else over something as trivial as this."
"â¦I get it. Now let go."
This time, Hwan-young didnât hesitate. He forcefully shook Mu-ryeong off with enough strength that a sharp thud echoed through the classroom. Despite the sheer force, Mu-ryeong released him without showing any sign of offense. Instead, it was Hwan-young who stiffened, glancing at his own hand as if surprised by his own reaction.
"Itâs fine. It was just loud, not painful."
"â¦Who said anything?"
Hwan-young turned his head sharply, irritated. His expression practically screamed, Donât touch me. Mu-ryeong simply shrugged, discreetly tucking his hands under the desk, where a trace of spiritual energy lingered on his skin.
"People say words have power."
The youthful voice drifted through the quiet classroom. Hwan-young, his gaze still sharp, continued to hold eye contact with Mu-ryeong.
"Even if you didnât mean it out of guilt, if you keep saying things like that, one day youâll really start believing it."
"â¦"
"Why would Seung-joo getting hurt be your fault? If anything, Iâm the one more at fault for leaving early yesterday."
Hwan-youngâs brows twitched. His expression was unreadable, but something in it suggested agreement. Mu-ryeong, without realizing, let out a small chuckle. Even with that expressionless face, his thoughts sometimes peeked through.
"Well⦠If I had gone with him, Seung-joo probably wouldnât have gotten hurt."
His shoulders slumped slightly, despite himself. Ever since hearing about Seung-jooâs accident, that thought had plagued him repeatedly.
If I had walked home with him. If only I had stayed a little longer.
"But thinking like that never ends."
Mu-ryeong straightened his back, forcing conviction into his voice. To make sure his words sank in, he articulated each one deliberately.
"To put it bluntly, if Seo Seung-joo hadnât walked down that road, the accident wouldnât have happened. If he hadnât been carrying that bag, maybe it wouldâve been fine. If it werenât his turn for class duty this week, he might not have even crossed paths with that car."
"â¦"
"If we go by that logic, then everything could be a cause for what happenedâ¦"
"â¦"
"But does that mean itâs anyoneâs fault?"
As Mu-ryeong spoke, Hwan-youngâs expression turned strange. It was as if he were being swayed, or perhaps just momentarily lost in thought. Mu-ryeong averted his gaze for a moment, scratching his cheek.
"When something happens, people always rush to assign blame. But no matter what the cause is, what really matters is finding a solution."
"Well, of course, to solve a problem, you need to know the causeâ¦"
"Youâre the one who asked me to find the cause."
A flicker of amusement crossed Mu-ryeongâs clear eyes. Lifting his gaze to meet Hwan-youngâs, he grinned. A small dimple formed at the center of his pale cheek.
"Let me stay at your place for the night."
***
On the way to Hwan-youngâs house, Mu-ryeong sent a message to Seung-joo. He had just gotten a new phone, and there was already a message waiting from him. I wonât be home tonight. That was all he wrote. Seung-jooâs reply came almost immediately.
"Are you planning on becoming a volunteer worker or something?"
Naturally, Mu-ryeong ignored it and shoved his phone into his pocket. If he denied it, heâd just get scolded. If he admitted it, Seung-jooâs reaction would be even worse. It was easier to just let it go and endure a bit of nagging tomorrow.
What choice do I have? This is the only way.
Glancing at Hwan-young, Mu-ryeong quickened his pace. Since there was a significant height difference between them, he had to take three steps for every two Hwan-young took. Must be nice, having such long legs. The idle thought came and went, replaced by another curiosity.
I didnât expect him to agree so easily.
When Mu-ryeong had asked to stay over, he had already prepared a whole list of excuses in his headâstarting with the fundamental reasoning that he needed to observe the situation firsthand, to the more absurd claim that exorcists always spent a night at the clientâs home.
â¦Right.
But Hwan-young had simply nodded without a word. His eyes were still filled with caution, but he didnât ask for any explanations. He just grabbed his bag from where it hung on the desk and stood up first.
"Letâs go. Itâs a bit far from here."
And just as he said, it took over two hours to reach his house. The problem wasnât the distanceâit was the fact that they walked the entire way home. Mu-ryeong wasnât exactly out of shape, but the real issue was the sheer awkwardness.
â¦
â¦
From the moment they left school, Hwan-young had kept his mouth shut, staring straight ahead. He looked deep in thought, making it difficult for even someone as sociable as Mu-ryeong to start a conversation. The only time he had spoken was when they passed a crossroad where chrysanthemums were placed, asking Hwan-young to wait a moment.
"So⦠donât you need to let your parents know?"
Mu-ryeong cautiously broke the silence, hoping to lighten the mood. Though he had spoken softly, Hwan-young turned to look at him abruptly, as if startled from deep thought.
"â¦My parents arenât home."
Was it just his imagination, or did his steps slow slightly? Now that they were walking at the same pace, Mu-ryeong tilted his head in curiosity.
"You live alone?"
"Yeah. Both of them passed away."
"â¦"
The awkwardness doubled. The only reason Mu-ryeong didnât blurt out an apology was because Hwan-youngâs expression was so eerily neutral. Shouldâve picked a better topic. Mu-ryeong berated himself, biting his lower lip in frustration.
"Weâre almost there. Just around that wall."
The road twisted and turned into a more secluded area. He had felt it from the moment they entered the alley, but this neighborhood had an odd, unsettling atmosphere. The cold, stagnant air, the charm papers plastered on walls and treesâtattered and ineffectiveâmade for a disturbingly eerie sight.
â¦Those talismans are worthless.
Mu-ryeong could tell at a glance that they were the work of a fake exorcist. No matter how old or torn they were, there should have been at least some trace of spiritual energy left. But these? There was nothing. Not only that, but they werenât even placed in the proper directions.
These wonât stop a malevolent spirit, let alone a stray ghost.
Hwan-youngâs spiritual energy was probably beyond what even an average exorcist could comprehend. If even Mu-ryeong, a living person, could sense its purity, then to those who longed for life, it must have been intoxicating. Enough to make them crave it, even if it meant burning themselves in the process.
Just like earlierâ¦@@novelbin@@
Mu-ryeong narrowed his eyes, recalling the spirit that had clung to Hwan-youngâs shoulder. The overwhelming darkness it radiated was unmistakableâit belonged to someone who had died long ago. Either they had met a horribly unjust death, or they had been wandering lost for much longer than he thought.
Seung-jooâs accident was likely its doing. Unable to touch Hwan-young directly, it had probably lashed out at anything carrying his presence. A pointless act of spite, but then again, the dead often harbored the worst kind of resentment.
I need to take care of this before itâs too late.
Mu-ryeong had been raised in a family of exorcists with strict teachingsâonce you see an evil spirit, you must track it down and eliminate it. A lost soul that had already succumbed to corruption could never return to what it once was.
Of course, Mu-ryeong had his own, less violent methods. But if his mother ever found out he had let it escape right under his nose, she would not let it slide.
Still, that wasnât the real reason he felt so restless. Getting scolded was one thingâhe wasnât even an officially recognized exorcist yet. No, what really bothered him was something Hwan-young had said.
"People who come into contact with me always end up getting hurt."
Mu-ryeong never wanted to see anyone in pain, no matter the reason. He wanted everyone he knew to live in peace, free from harm.
And that included Hwan-young, who was still practically a stranger to him.
"Iâm not hurt."
It was only after hearing those words that Mu-ryeong realized something.
The one who was truly hurt wasnât Hwan-youngâs bodyâit was his heart.