Mu-ryeong's Spirit-Chapter 51: The End of Despair (6)

"Ha..."

Mu-ryeong let out a deep breath and collapsed onto the ground. His legs buckled as he swayed, and Hwan-young instinctively shot up. But before he could move any closer, Mu-ryeong raised a shaky hand, covering his face with the other.

"No... no, just stay there."

"...."

"I was just... a little startled."

Hwan-young felt like he couldn’t breathe. Mu-ryeong was the one panting, but for some reason, the suffocating weight pressed down on his chest instead. He didn’t even know what had startled Mu-ryeong so badly, yet seeing the relief in his expression made his heart churn.

"Ah... thank goodness."

"...."

Hwan-young couldn’t ignore the twisting feeling in his gut any longer. He turned off the running water, his voice breaking through the heavy silence.

"...I was going to tell you later."

"Hm?"

Mu-ryeong’s eyes, still filled with golden sunlight, blinked at him in confusion. His gaze was steady, unwavering, fixed solely on Hwan-young. But Hwan-young couldn’t bring himself to look back. He averted his eyes, staring off into the distance.

"Let’s just stop here."

"...."

The moment he said it, an odd sense of calm settled over him. The storm of emotions that had raged in his chest just moments ago dissipated as if they had never been there. Still, he couldn’t look at Mu-ryeong, so he exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed somewhere in the air.

"Forget the request."

How did Mu-ryeong react to those words? Did he just stare at him? Did he tilt his head, puzzled? Hwan-young didn’t dare check.

"This is enough."

It was almost like he was hypnotizing himself. Telling himself that this was enough, that he shouldn’t ask for more. That he had only pretended to do this for his brother’s sake when, in reality, he had been chasing his own comfort.

So he made sure to sound colder. Added a final remark, saying he would still pay, but Mu-ryeong shouldn’t bring any more talismans. He even went as far as to threaten—though he knew he wouldn’t follow through—that he’d throw them away if Mu-ryeong did.

Hwan-young had fully expected Mu-ryeong to get angry and leave. He had been blunt enough to offend anyone, even someone as kind as Mu-ryeong. If Mu-ryeong asked why are you acting so selfishly?, Hwan-young was ready to throw it back at him—didn’t you see this coming?

"You don’t have to pay me."

But when had Mu-ryeong ever done what he expected? He simply grinned, as if to say it can’t be helped, with no trace of resentment. When he shrugged and muttered, I wouldn’t have solved it anyway, it didn’t feel careless—it felt forgiving.

"More importantly, are your legs okay? Let me see."

"I just told you, I’m calling off the request—"

Did he not understand what Hwan-young had just said? Hwan-young opened his mouth to clarify, but Mu-ryeong cut him off with a completely indifferent tone.

"Just because the request is over doesn’t mean we’re strangers now."

What would be left between them if there was no request? Mu-ryeong had only spoken to him, eaten lunch with him, because of the ghost attached to him. No matter what Mu-ryeong’s real reason was, the request had to be at the root of it.

Yet even after Hwan-young called it off, Mu-ryeong still spoke to him as if nothing had changed. He stepped closer, inspecting his scraped leg with a frown deeper than Hwan-young’s own. And then, without warning, he muttered wait here and dashed into the main building.

"...What the hell is with him."

At this point, it was beyond frustrating—it was fascinating. How was he always so unpredictable? Mu-ryeong never spoke aggressively, never acted forcefully, yet somehow, every time Hwan-young dealt with him, he was the one left speechless.

Hwan-young tilted his head back, gazing at the cloudless sky. He had no obligation to wait for Mu-ryeong, but leaving didn’t feel right either.

It wasn’t long before Mu-ryeong came running back. His hands were full, and when he got close enough, Hwan-young realized what he had brought—disinfectant, bandages, and ointment.

"Tell me if it hurts."

He had gone to get medicine.

As soon as Hwan-young realized that, Mu-ryeong crouched in front of him and carefully began treating his wounds. He soaked a cotton pad with antiseptic and dabbed it gently against Hwan-young’s scraped skin.

It would’ve been a lie to say it didn’t hurt. His nerves weren’t that dulled—his shredded skin stung like hell.

But Hwan-young neither flinched nor grimaced.

It wasn’t for any profound reason. His attention had simply been stolen by something else.

Mu-ryeong’s hair.

Up close, it looked incredibly soft.

"How did you get hurt?"

It reminded him of a well-groomed pet—fluffy, healthy, taken care of with love. Under the sunlight, it shimmered with warm brown hues, completely unlike Hwan-young’s own dull, jet-black hair.

"I tripped."

If he reached out, would Mu-ryeong mind?

No, knowing him, he’d probably just laugh and let him do it. Maybe he’d even widen his eyes in that curious way and wait patiently.

"It’ll heal quickly."

Hwan-young only added that because Mu-ryeong looked even more pained than he did. Every time he applied the disinfectant, his long lashes trembled, his brows creased. His lips, usually curved in a mischievous smile, were pressed into a tight, determined line, as if he was enduring something.

"All done."

At last, Mu-ryeong finished, leaning back to admire his work. The bandages were uneven and hastily placed, but they weren’t bad either. He looked rather proud of himself.

"Actually, Seung-joo patched me up before, so—"

That damn Seo Seung-joo.

For the second time today, Hwan-young had the same thought. But this time, it didn’t sting as much. He just... found himself wondering. Just ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) how close are they?

"I’m friends with you, too."

Mu-ryeong’s tone was playful, but the words hit Hwan-young harder than he expected.

And that... that was the real problem.

Because he shouldn’t have cared. He knew Mu-ryeong was friendly with everyone. He knew it wasn’t any of his business who Mu-ryeong spent time with.

Yet, for some reason, that one simple sentence unraveled something in his chest.

"Do you have any medicine and bandages at home? If not, I can give you these."

In the end, Mu-ryeong forced the ointment and bandages into Hwan-young’s hands, ignoring his refusals before leaving for class. He even tossed in a casual see you after school, but of course, Hwan-young didn’t answer.

He had meant what he said—he was done with this. And after today, he fully intended to sever whatever lingering ties remained between them.

At least, that’s what he had thought at the time.

***

"...I didn’t expect this to happen."

Hwan-young leaned against the window frame, watching Mu-ryeong, who was sitting beside him. Mu-ryeong turned to him at the remark, his bright eyes wide with curiosity, as if silently asking, what do you mean?

Despite the dark clouds rolling in behind him, he still wore an easy, cheerful smile.

"What didn’t you expect?"

"Just...."

Hwan-young hesitated.

Should he say he hadn’t expected them to become this close? Or that he hadn’t expected to be roped back into the request after all?

In the end, he settled on saying nothing at all.

"It’s nothing."

"What? That’s anticlimactic."

It was the Friday after finals. The school buzzed with restless energy, students already shifting into vacation mode. Exams were over, and summer break was just around the corner—no wonder their minds were anywhere but inside the classroom.

Most of the teachers seemed to understand this and had assigned self-study, leaving the students to their own devices. A few still stubbornly tried to push through the syllabus, but barely anyone was paying attention.

"I wish I had PE. I wanna play too."

As always, they had gathered in Class 7 after lunch. Mu-ryeong had dragged Hwan-young along, and since he was already dressed in his gym clothes, he hadn’t protested. Even Seung-joo, who had been buried in studying for weeks, had finally taken a break and was chatting easily with Mu-ryeong.

"You could sneak into Class 3’s game."

"You think I wouldn’t get caught?"

"You think you wouldn’t get caught?"

Seung-joo shot him an unimpressed look, but Mu-ryeong just grinned, swinging his legs against the windowsill.

"What’s up with you today? You seem extra happy."

Even Seung-joo had noticed. He eyed Mu-ryeong curiously, and Mu-ryeong’s face immediately lit up with an even bigger smile.

"My brother’s coming today."

"Mu-heun?"

Right, he’d mentioned having an older brother and sister before. Hwan-young hadn’t been particularly surprised at the time—it just made sense.

Mu-ryeong seemed like the kind of person who had grown up as the youngest, showered with affection.

"Is he arriving soon?"

"‘Soon’ makes it sound like he’s rushing here. He’d be offended if he heard that."

"What a thing to be offended about..."

So, Mu-ryeong has an older brother.

Hwan-young narrowed his eyes, studying Mu-ryeong’s profile. From what he’d heard, Mu-heun was taller than Seung-joo. It was hard to imagine someone with this face growing into a towering figure like that.

"Anyway, we’re eating something good for dinner tonight."

That seemed to be the real reason for Mu-ryeong’s excitement. His voice practically bounced with anticipation, his lips curving into an animated smile as he spoke. Watching him, Hwan-young found himself asking, almost absently—

"Does your brother look like you?"

"My brother?"

Mu-ryeong repeated the question, but before he could answer, someone else did.

Seung-joo, who had been reclining in his chair, tilted his head back to glance at Hwan-young.

"Not really. Mu-ryeong looks like his dad, and his brother looks like their mom."

Mu-ryeong takes after his father.

That was a new piece of information. And Seung-joo wasn’t done.

"And if you mix them together, you get their sister."

"My sister’s pretty."

Mu-ryeong said this so matter-of-factly that Hwan-young instinctively nodded in agreement. Then, suddenly realizing what he had just implied, his face stiffened, and he clamped his mouth shut.

Of course Mu-ryeong’s sister would be pretty. But it was the fact that he had actually thought it—that caught him off guard.

"My brother’s handsome too."

Apparently, the siblings had a good relationship. People often said siblings were either inseparable or constantly at each other’s throats, but Mu-ryeong seemed firmly in the former category.

Hwan-young’s gaze dropped to the floor.

If Hwan-hee had been alive... would they have been close too?

Pointless. There was nothing more bitter than an if that could never be.

"Anyway, my brother’s bringing meat, so we’re grilling it in the yard."

Mu-ryeong hopped down from the windowsill, his movements light and effortless. Then, turning to Hwan-young with a grin, he threw out a casual invitation.

"Wanna come?"