Mu-ryeong's Spirit-Chapter 21: A Day Even Ghosts Don’t Know (2)

By mid-June, the summer had become increasingly noticeable. The chilly weather had eased up, and students in summer uniforms had begun to appear in droves. Starting next week, wearing the summer uniform would be mandatory, yet it was still surprising to see some students in their spring and fall uniforms.

Mu-ryeong crouched in front of the unopened school gates, and as soon as they opened, he was the first to enter. The school, still steeped in an eerie silence, would soon be filled with the voices of students arriving later. During the day, the presence of the sun would protect the students from any malevolent energy.

From the entrance of the main building, down the empty hallway, and into the second-year, class 7 classroom, Mu-ryeong sat in his usual spot, placed his bag down, and laid his head on the desk. Since he had woken up so early, he thought he might as well try to get a little more sleep.

However, with a small sigh, he rested his arm on the desk and turned his gaze out the window.

“......”

The clouds drifting lazily by were peaceful beyond belief. The sky was so clear and blue that it nearly hurt to look at it. Watching it, Mu-ryeong couldn’t help but remember what had happened two weeks ago.

‘The request will be canceled.’

Two weeks ago, the request Ki Hwan-young had given him ended. It was the first time Mu-ryeong had failed a request, though it was more of an abrupt cancellation than a failure. Ki Hwan-young had spoken without looking at him, standing by the water faucet, wearing an unreadable expression.

‘This is enough.’

‘......’

‘I’ll pay you, so don’t bother with charms or anything.’

‘......’

‘I’m really throwing it away this time.’

The seriousness of his expression made it hard for Mu-ryeong to protest. He didn’t even want to ask if that meant Hwan-young had faked it the last time. He simply spoke casually while looking at the shadowed area around Hwan-young's eyes.

‘You don’t have to pay me.’

If Seung-joo had been there, he probably would have told him not to be such a pushover. Seung-joo might have said it was rude to cancel a request after assigning it. Mu-ryeong, though somewhat flustered, was more troubled by something else.

‘It wasn’t solved anyway, so what does it matter?’

Why was he making such a face? While it might have appeared emotionless to others, Mu-ryeong didn’t see it that way. The deep, fathomless black eyes, the tightly shut lips—everything about him felt artificially restrained.

Mu-ryeong thought it was an attempt to hide the emotions beneath the surface. It reminded him of when Hwan-young had said, ‘Your friend was hurt because of me.’

‘Did you hurt your leg a lot? Let me see.’

It was self-derision, more accurately, self-blame.

‘I just told you I’d quit the request...’

‘I didn’t bring it up because of the request.’

He remembered the expression on Hwan-young’s face when he grabbed Seung-joo’s arm. A deep darkness had rolled in like a wave and swallowed him up in an instant. The emotions that had been festering for a long time had been triggered by the smallest of things and seemed ready to stain everything.

‘Just because the request is over doesn’t mean we should act like strangers.’

Even if the encounter had been for a specific purpose, what had been done was not just a means to an end. Mu-ryeong simply wanted everyone he knew to be free from pain, to live without suffering.

‘I’ll just take a quick look at your wounds.’

When Mu-ryeong examined Hwan-young’s injuries, he found that his socks were soaked with blood, and the wounds were severe. Despite this, Hwan-young had walked here without any assistance, and the destination was not the infirmary. Mu-ryeong didn’t need to ask why he hadn’t gone to the infirmary—he already knew.

‘Did you seriously clean your wounds with water?’

‘......Yeah.’

‘Ugh, that must have hurt.’

Mu-ryeong couldn't bring himself to touch Hwan-young’s injuries, so he told him to wait and quickly ran back into the main building. He sprinted up a few flights of stairs and headed to Seung-joo’s classroom. Seung-joo looked confused when Mu-ryeong burst in and immediately demanded:

‘Seung-joo! Give me some ointment and bandages, it’s urgent.’

‘What? Did you get hurt?’

‘No, not me—someone else.’

Because Mu-ryeong was always getting minor injuries, Seung-joo kept ointment in his bag. Although he gave him a suspicious look, Seung-joo dug through his bag and handed over various supplies. Mu-ryeong grabbed the antiseptic, cotton pads, and bandages and ran back to the water faucet.

Maybe it was because he’d told Hwan-young to wait, but when he arrived, Hwan-young hadn’t left. He sat by the water faucet, gazing up at the sky. For some reason, he looked particularly pitiful, despite his large frame. To Mu-ryeong, he seemed almost childlike.

‘If it hurts, just tell me.’

Mu-ryeong crouched down in front of Hwan-young and carefully applied the antiseptic to his wounds. His knees and shins were scraped raw, and blood still oozed from them. Although the antiseptic was likely stinging, Hwan-young didn’t even flinch.

‘How did you get hurt?’

How could anyone get injured this badly? He wasn’t bad at sports, and he didn’t seem like the type to overexert himself.

‘I fell.’

Mu-ryeong didn’t press for more details. He simply frowned as he gently blew on the wounds. He was more concerned with how much pain Hwan-young was in. As Mu-ryeong made a pained expression, Hwan-young murmured softly:

‘I’ll be fine soon.’

Mu-ryeong knew that all wounds healed with time. They might leave scars, but the pain would eventually disappear completely. It was the way most physical injuries worked.

‘All done.’

Mu-ryeong had tended to all of the injuries, though his work was a bit sloppy. The bandages were sticking out awkwardly from the larger wounds, but at least the most important thing was done. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

‘Actually, Seung-joo usually takes care of this for me... I haven’t really done this much myself. But don’t worry, I’ve put the medicine on properly even if it looks a little messy.’

If it had been Seung-joo, he would have cleaned up the wounds neatly and efficiently. Mu-ryeong thought that maybe after doing it a few more times, he’d get used to it. As he was thinking this, Hwan-young glanced down at his leg and spoke.

“You’re close with Seung-joo, huh?”

It was a statement that didn’t need much explanation. They’d lived next door to each other since they were born, so it would be stranger if they weren’t close.

“I’m close with you too,” Mu-ryeong replied with a warm tone, gathering the ointment and trash before getting up. Hwan-young’s face, which was usually above his, now was at a similar level to Mu-ryeong’s.

“Do you have ointment and bandages at home? If not, I’ll give you these.”

“...I don’t need them.”

Hwan-young said so, but Mu-ryeong pressed the ointment and bandages into his hands. Before Hwan-young could refuse them, Mu-ryeong turned and headed back to the classroom. He gave him a sincere farewell, saying they would see each other after school.

However, after that day, Mu-ryeong didn’t get the chance to speak properly to Hwan-young again. It wasn’t that Hwan-young was intentionally avoiding him, but whenever they happened to cross paths, an almost tangible barrier seemed to prevent Mu-ryeong from striking up a conversation. Whereas Hwan-young had been wary of him before, now he seemed to be actively rejecting him.

“Ugh...”

This was something Mu-ryeong had never experienced before. He hadn’t done anything wrong, yet somehow, without any explanation, they had grown distant overnight. Two weekends had passed, and his mind was still in a whirl, leaving him unable to even make charms.

‘I can’t let this drag on.’

Mu-ryeong silently vowed to himself and squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again. Although the request had fallen through, his duties weren’t over. The responsibility to lighten Hwan-young’s burden had ended, but now it was time for him, as an exorcist, to hunt down the malevolent spirits.

Moreover...

‘I’m not without a purpose today...’

Mu-ryeong rose from his seat and took something out from his pocket. Something he always carried with him, now resting on his palm.

Ki Hwan-young.

It was a name tag, neatly inscribed.

***

It seemed that Mu-ryeong had fallen asleep while lying down, and when he slowly opened his eyes, the bell indicating that he was late was ringing. With still-sleepy eyes, he slowly propped himself up.

“Did you wake up?”

As he stirred, the gym shirt he had been covered with slipped off. Seung-joo had draped it over him while he was asleep. Mu-ryeong, still groggy, scratched the back of his head as he returned the shirt to Seung-joo.

“When did you come?”

“A while ago. You sleep pretty soundly.”

Seung-joo casually folded the gym shirt that Mu-ryeong had been under. As Mu-ryeong watched him, his eyes widened.

“You took off the cast?”

“Yeah. They said I could remove it on Friday. I thought I was going to die from how uncomfortable it was.”

Where the plaster cast had been, nothing remained. It seemed like the earlier claim that it wasn’t serious had been true, as Seung-joo didn’t seem uncomfortable when holding a pen. He quickly jotted down the notes Mu-ryeong had written earlier and casually asked a question.

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“So, what was it about today?”

Mu-ryeong, who had barely arrived on time, had been the first to come to school as usual. Despite getting a full rest over the weekend, he still looked drowsy, which meant he had either woken up early or stayed up all night. Seung-joo, at least, could naturally deduce that much.

“Oh... It’s nothing.”

Mu-ryeong rubbed his stiff hands, closing his eyes slowly before opening them again. Outside, the same fluffy clouds were drifting across the sky. He gazed at the bright blue sky as a single white chrysanthemum appeared in his mind.

“You remember the traffic accident from the beginning of the semester?”

March 2nd. The day after spring break ended and the opening ceremony was held. A freshman had been hit by a car at an intersection near the school. The driver was arrested, and the student died on the spot. As it often happens, the rumors died down quickly, but occasionally, chrysanthemums were placed at the intersection in a tribute to the student.

“I’ve noticed something strange recently.”

After the accident, Mu-ryeong had gone to the intersection right away. Fortunately, he hadn’t sensed any malevolent energy, and he concluded that the spirit had been properly guided to the afterlife by a grim reaper. However, starting not long ago, a strange energy had begun to emanate from the chrysanthemums.

“It looks like it kept circling around. I was too scared to cross the crosswalk, so I brought it to school. It passed on peacefully after that.”

The spirits of the dead lost many things over time. At first, they lost their reason and rationality, then their memories, and eventually, if they lost their hearts as well, they became vengeful spirits beyond redemption.

In that sense, the student’s soul Mu-ryeong had seen that morning would have become a malevolent spirit if he had been just a little late.

“His wish was to go to high school,” Mu-ryeong added.