“...Huh?”
At the end of the staircase connected to the study room, someone was standing. The moment Mu-ryeong turned the corner, he halted abruptly at the sight of a familiar figure blocking his path.
Lifting his gaze slowly, he met Hwan-young’s eyes—his expression unreadable, but with a distinct hint of displeasure.
“Why are you here?”
“......”
Instead of answering, Hwan-young’s eyes flickered past Mu-ryeong, looking at something behind him.
Just then, the third-year student who had been following Mu-ryeong exited the room, glanced at them briefly, and gave a polite nod before walking past. He was likely heading toward the annex via the sky bridge.
“Were you waiting for me?”
Mu-ryeong smiled, narrowing his eyes playfully. At that, Hwan-young flinched almost imperceptibly before turning his head away. Then, taking a single step down the stairs, he spoke curtly.
“You said you were giving me candy.”
Oh, right. That was true. He had promised to give Hwan-young candy before they got sidetracked and ended up in front of Classroom 7.
Did he really wait all this time just for that?
“So, you do like candy.”
Hwan-young had insisted earlier that he didn’t need any, but maybe he actually did like it. Since he had been left waiting, Mu-ryeong figured he’d give him extra as an apology.
As Mu-ryeong entertained this thought, Hwan-young, after a brief pause, added another remark.
“...You asked for my number.”
“Oh, right. I still need that.”
Mu-ryeong grinned and followed Hwan-young down the stairs. Despite all his protests and standoffish demeanor, Hwan-young always ended up going along with whatever Mu-ryeong wanted.
Not only had he let himself be dragged along earlier, but now he had actually waited. How considerate.
“Sorry, I didn’t expect something to come up.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
With that, Hwan-young fell silent as they descended to the second floor. Every now and then, he glanced back, checking that Mu-ryeong was following.
Then, just as Mu-ryeong reached the last step, Hwan-young suddenly stopped and turned toward him.
“Are you staying over at that third-year’s house tonight?”
“...Huh?”
Mu-ryeong blinked, momentarily caught off guard.
It was so unexpected that he actually stopped mid-step. Of all things, why would he be staying at that guy’s house?
“Why would I do that?”
Since Mu-ryeong was standing on a step above, they were about the same height. No—Hwan-young was just a fraction taller.
Hwan-young, looking perplexed, asked again.
“...Didn’t he make a request?”
“Yeah, he did.”
“Then?”
The response was so firm, so matter-of-fact, that Mu-ryeong almost accepted it without question. Almost.
But even though the logic was completely missing, he understood what Hwan-young was implying.
“I don’t always stay over at someone’s house when they make a request.”
It seemed that Hwan-young assumed Mu-ryeong would be staying over—just like he had done at his house.
“You were just a special case. If I randomly asked to sleep over, most people would think I was crazy and turn me away.”
“......”
Hwan-young simply stared at him, his expression unreadable. It was as if he was asking: And you knew that, yet you still did it?
Mu-ryeong quickly realized the contradiction in his own words and let out an awkward laugh.
“...Well, you still let me stay.”
At the end of the day, whether it was the person asking or the person agreeing—it wasn’t all that different.
“But, yeah, I guess it would’ve been easier if I had asked. Worst case, he’d just say no.”
Given how desperate that third-year seemed, maybe he would have agreed. That way, Mu-ryeong could have dealt with everything right away, as soon as night fell.
“Seriously, why didn’t I think of that...?”
Just as he was considering whether to go back and ask—
“No.”
Hwan-young’s voice was firm, decisive.
It was the kind of absolute rejection Mu-ryeong hadn’t expected. It was even sterner than when Mu-heun trained Seolgi. Even when Seolgi tried to snatch food off the floor, Mu-heun wasn’t this strict.
“...Why not?”
“You’ll get a weird reputation.”
“...Hmm. That’s true.”
Mu-ryeong nodded without argument.
Hwan-young wasn’t wrong. If Seung-joo had been there, he would have said the same thing—except in much harsher words. Something along the lines of: “Do you want people to start calling you a creep?”
By the time they returned to the classroom, the warning bell had already rung. Most of the students were seated, save for a few still lingering outside.
Mu-ryeong led Hwan-young all the way to his desk, not letting him wait by the back door.
As they walked in, some students glanced at them, but neither of them paid much attention.
Seung-joo, who had been memorizing English vocabulary, scowled at the sight and asked,
“Did you seriously go all the way to Class 3 just to bring him back?”
“No, we ran into each other on the way.”
Seung-joo looked skeptical, as if that explanation made no sense.
But Mu-ryeong ignored him and rummaged through his desk. Soon, he pulled out a handful of lollipops and held them out.
“What flavor do you want?”
“...Why do you have so many?”
Hwan-young looked at the pile in disbelief. There were at least ten in Mu-ryeong’s hand—and even more left in his desk.
“The class president brings them sometimes and hands them out.”
“The class president always brings a whole jar of these, and whatever’s left ends up in Kim Mu-ryeong’s desk. His stash is basically public property.”
As Seung-joo said this, he casually rummaged through Mu-ryeong’s desk, pulled out a lime-flavored lollipop, and peeled off the wrapper before popping it into his mouth. The crunching sound of him biting straight into it made Mu-ryeong’s eye twitch.
“That must hurt....”
“Says the guy who could probably chew through a rock.”
It was true. Mu-ryeong had never tested it, but if he wanted to, he probably could bite through one. He chuckled to himself and turned to Hwan-young, holding out his handful of candy.
“Anyway, what flavor do you like? If you can’t decide, I’ll just give you all of them.”
“No... just one is fine.”
“Then how about grape?”
Mu-ryeong set the rest down on his desk and picked out a grape-flavored one to offer him. He almost started unwrapping it for him but hesitated after checking the time. Seung-joo might have been the type to crunch on lollipops, but Mu-ryeong figured Hwan-young wouldn’t appreciate being handed an unwrapped one.
Then, in his usual calm voice, Hwan-young asked,
“You don’t like grape flavor?”
“...Huh?”
Their eyes met in midair—Hwan-young’s black pupils reflecting pure curiosity. Just as Mu-ryeong opened his mouth to respond, Seung-joo beat him to it, answering matter-of-factly.
“It’s actually his favorite.”
Hwan-young’s eyebrow quirked up. It was a look he gave whenever something didn’t make sense to him. Instead of taking the grape candy Mu-ryeong was offering, he grabbed a random one from the pile on the desk.
“Then you eat that one. Why do you keep giving me things you like?”
Now it was Mu-ryeong’s turn to look confused. He tilted his head slightly, blinking.
“Well, wouldn’t I rather give you something I like than something I don’t?”
He had simply picked the best flavor for Hwan-young because it was his favorite. If he found it delicious, wouldn’t Hwan-young like it too? If he had preferred strawberry instead, he wouldn’t have hesitated to give that instead.
“You should eat the things you like.”
“He’s got a point.”
Seung-joo agreed with Hwan-young, while only Mu-ryeong shrugged and set the grape candy back on his desk.
“Give me your phone. I’ll put my number in.”
Mu-ryeong saved the number Hwan-young entered and, just for fun, immediately sent a message.
Hwan-young pulled out his phone from his pocket, checked the notification, and let out a small breath, almost like a laugh. ‘It’s me, Mu-ryeong!’ The five characters in the message somehow seemed amusing to him.
“Wow. And I didn’t even get an offer to exchange numbers.”
Seung-joo tilted his head back, the lollipop stick bobbing slightly in his mouth. He gnawed on the end irritably—probably a sign of how much exam prep was draining him.
Hwan-young, unfazed, responded flatly.
“Ask Kim Mu-ryeong if you need it.”
“Like hell I would. And don’t you dare give it to me even if I ask.”
They were both completely serious, so Hwan-young didn’t ask twice. He simply pocketed his phone and turned as if to leave for his classroom.
But just before he exited, he suddenly paused and, in a quieter voice, said,
“Thanks for the candy.”
“......”
Before Mu-ryeong could even react, Hwan-young had already slipped out of the room.
Mu-ryeong clutched his chest dramatically and collapsed into his chair, overwhelmed by something he couldn’t quite put into words. His lips parted, and with a deep sense of satisfaction, he murmured,
“I think I finally get why people feel so proud when they befriend a stray cat.”
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“...Wait. You’re not talking about him, are you? You do realize that’s an insult to actual cats, right?”
Seung-joo scoffed.
“With that build? He’s not a cat—he’s at least a leopard. No, maybe even a lion.”
The fact that he equated size to the key difference said a lot about how burnt out Seung-joo was from studying.
“So, how long is this request going to take?”
Mu-ryeong paused mid-motion while pulling out his next class’s textbook. He narrowed his eyes slightly, calculating.
“At the shortest, two days... at the longest, a week.”
“That long? Must be tricky.”
If Mu-ryeong estimated up to a week, then it meant the situation wasn’t simple. Normally, he resolved things within a day. Whatever this was, it could get complicated.
Seung-joo sighed, already dreading another stretch of sleepless nights and Mu-ryeong running himself into exhaustion.
“It’s not difficult, but it’s going to be time-consuming.”
Mu-ryeong sorted through his thoughts, recalling the details of his conversation with the third-year earlier.
A sleepwalking disorder that started right after becoming a senior. Hands covered in scratches. Dreams of searching for something, though he had no memory of what. And most importantly—the faint, unsettling energy clinging to him.
“...He’s definitely possessed.”
Had Mu-ryeong not been paying close attention, he might have missed it. But because the student had personally come to him and because Mu-ryeong was actively looking for signs, he had noticed something off.
The energy tangled within his own spiritual presence was damp, heavy—undeniably the yin energy of the dead.