Mu-ryeong's Spirit-Chapter 45: A Rainy Night (11)

Monday after the weekend was, for once, a day without rain. The sky remained a dull gray, and while the air was humid, not a single raindrop fell. Thanks to that, the back of the classroom—usually cluttered with abandoned umbrellas—was now clean and empty.

"So, in the end..."

Mu-ryeong sat perched on the windowsill, gazing at the flower bed near the new building in the distance. Though the view wasn't entirely clear, it was easy to tell that the area was barren, devoid of a single flower. As he absentmindedly swung his feet, Hwan-young spoke in a quiet voice.

"You didn’t tell them it wasn’t unrequited love?"

"Hmm..."

They had gathered in the second-year, class seven classroom after lunch. There wasn’t any particular reason—Mu-ryeong had simply been bored and dragged Hwan-young along. Seung-joo was busy studying for the final exams tomorrow, but he still raised his head, seemingly intrigued by the conversation.

"If I told them, it might just leave another regret behind."

Last Friday, the spirit that had possessed a student had finally passed on. It had been an easier resolution than expected, and as always, the moment of departure had been hollow. After making sure the unconscious student was safely placed near the new building’s entrance, Mu-ryeong had simply stood there, staring blankly at the rising sun.

"Imagine how much heavier the regret would be if they knew the feelings had been mutual."

There is nothing as lingering as unfulfilled love. If someone who had only wanted to confess found out that their feelings had been returned all along, it could spark a fresh wave of resentment. Some might say it was cruel, but to Mu-ryeong, it had been the best choice.

"Sometimes, secrets are necessary."

He said this with a grin, and Seung-joo nodded in agreement. Hwan-young, too, didn’t refute it, simply shifting his gaze away. There was a reason people said ignorance was bliss.

As they idly chatted about trivial things, their homeroom teacher entered the classroom. He was looking for students to run an errand to the new building, and without hesitation, he picked Mu-ryeong and Hwan-young—Mu-ryeong because he had made eye contact, and Hwan-young simply because he looked strong.

"There’s quite a lot to carry... Can you manage?"

In the faculty office, two large boxes were filled to the brim with textbooks. The teacher, seemingly surprised by the weight, turned away, saying he would call for more help. But Mu-ryeong effortlessly lifted one of the boxes without hesitation.

"I’m strong, so I’ll be fine."

His face beamed with an easy smile, showing no signs of struggle. In truth, this much weight wasn’t even close to being a burden for him. The same went for Hwan-young, who simply picked up the other box with both hands.

"You kids really have the energy of youth..."

Well, not that it had anything to do with youth specifically, but there was no need to point that out.

"Do we just drop these off at the new building?"

"Yes, take them to the third-year faculty office."

Side by side, the two left the faculty office and headed toward the new building. Mu-ryeong led the way, while Hwan-young followed just half a step behind.

Even during that short walk across the bridge between buildings, over a dozen students greeted Mu-ryeong.

"Oh, Mu-ryeong, running an errand?"

"Long time no see, Mu-ryeong!"

And when they arrived at the third-year faculty office, Mu-ryeong even exchanged friendly greetings with teachers he had never attended a single class with.

After dropping off the textbooks, he received a handful of snacks in return. With a bright expression, he turned to Hwan-young, who was still standing stiffly.

"Here, they said we should share."

"..."

The snacks were nothing special—individually wrapped coffee cookies and fruit-flavored caramels. Since Hwan-young made no move to take them, Mu-ryeong took it upon himself to stuff the treats into both of his pants pockets. Then, without warning, he grabbed Hwan-young’s wrist and waved at the teachers.

"See you later, teachers!"

Hwan-young remained silent as he was practically dragged out into the hallway. Only after the faculty office door clicked shut behind them did he finally mutter under his breath.

"...That’s interesting."

"What is?"

Mu-ryeong tilted his head, but Hwan-young simply shook his head, dismissing it.

Just as they were about to return to the main building, Mu-ryeong suddenly remembered something and lightly shook Hwan-young’s arm.

"Wait, let’s stop by third-year, class one for a second."

Unlike the older buildings, the new classrooms had modern facilities fitting their recent construction. Instead of blackboards with chalk or board markers, the rooms had digital pens and a single button for erasing. A projector was installed in the center, and the desks and chairs were sleek and pristine white.

"Wow, this place is nice."

Mu-ryeong looked around in awe. It wasn’t his first time in the new building, but seeing it in the daylight gave him a different impression. The building, which had seemed eerie in the dark, now looked vibrant and full of life. It was fascinating.

"We’ll be using this next year, too."

"Probably."

"They really did a good /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ job designing it."

But what was the point of making it look so polished? Accidents kept happening here. Who would believe this land was filled with yin energy?

Then again, if the place looked creepy, the number of students suffering from anxiety would probably be even worse.

"Oh? Kim Mu-ryeong?"

As Mu-ryeong peeked his head into class one’s doorway, a student sitting near the front recognized him. Mu-ryeong immediately smiled in response.

"Hey, senior! I’m here." freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

"Oh, you’re here?"

The student had sharp yet soft features, giving him a gentle impression. He was the one who had approached Mu-ryeong for help with his sleepwalking. The moment he saw Mu-ryeong, he stood up with a relieved expression.

"I was waiting for you, actually."

It sounded as if they had arranged to meet in advance. While Hwan-young’s eyes twitched slightly, the student rummaged through his bag and stepped forward, handing something to Mu-ryeong.

"Would something like this work?"

The item he offered was a small glass marble, something from his childhood. It had swirling sky-blue patterns inside, and the way it caught the light made it shimmer beautifully. Mu-ryeong glanced at his hands, confirming that the scars from before were no longer there, and then smiled broadly, dimples forming on his cheeks.

"Yes! It’s perfect."

‘Senior, wake up.’

On the morning the spirit had finally passed on, Mu-ryeong had shaken the student awake in front of the new building. The moment he realized he was still at school, he let out a sigh—but when he heard what Mu-ryeong said next, his eyes widened in disbelief.

‘The job is done.’

‘...’

‘Starting tomorrow, you’ll wake up at home.’

The student had struggled to believe it. So Mu-ryeong had told him to wait and see for himself, and if nothing strange happened over the weekend, to bring the promised payment on Monday. That’s why, while running an errand at the new building, he had taken the chance to drop by.

"Thanks. That really takes a load off my shoulders."

His expression was entirely different from when he had first approached Mu-ryeong for help. This time, his face looked refreshed, and his eyes were filled with trust. Mu-ryeong watched him for a moment before gently taking his hand. Instead of the marble, he placed a few of the snacks he had received from the faculty office in his palm.

"Stress comes from feeling down more often than you’d think."

"Huh?"

The student blinked in confusion as Mu-ryeong spoke calmly, still holding his hand. His fingers were loosely interwoven with Mu-ryeong’s, the warmth of human touch spreading between them.

"When you’re feeling low, eat something sweet. And try to keep yourself distracted."

"..."

"And if anything like this happens again, come find me. Next time, I’ll help you for free."

The student stared at Mu-ryeong, eyes blinking blankly, as if processing what had just been said. His gaze remained fixed on Mu-ryeong’s clear expression. Just as Mu-ryeong was about to say something more, Hwan-young abruptly grabbed the back of his collar and tugged.

"Lunch break is almost over."

The way Mu-ryeong was yanked backward made him look like a small animal being carried off by its mother. He flailed slightly before looking up at Hwan-young with wide, bewildered eyes.

"Why there of all places?"

"..."

Realizing what he had done, Hwan-young let go of Mu-ryeong’s collar, his face flickering with brief regret. Then, in a barely audible mumble, he muttered, "...Sorry."

Mu-ryeong, unfazed, simply grinned as if nothing had happened.

"Well, we’ll be heading out now."

With no lingering attachments, they turned away from the third-year classroom. Mu-ryeong gave a quick bow as a farewell, while Hwan-young didn’t spare the student another glance.

The student remained still until, belatedly, he called out.

"Uh, hey!"

"Yes?"

Mu-ryeong turned back, waiting patiently. The student hesitated, rolling his eyes as if searching for the right words. After a brief pause, he scratched the back of his head and asked awkwardly,

"It’s nothing major, but... do you even know my name?"

Mu-ryeong blinked at him, then let his gaze drop to the student’s chest. A nametag, stitched onto his uniform in a different color than Mu-ryeong’s own, was clearly visible. After a moment, Mu-ryeong met his eyes again and spoke in an even, quiet tone.

"Yoon Ye-jun, senior?"

"..."

Ye-jun averted his gaze, covering his mouth with his hand. His brows furrowed slightly, the hint of embarrassment apparent in his expression. Clearing his throat, he muttered in an indifferent voice,

"Just call me ‘hyung.’ Calling me ‘senior’ sounds so stiff."

"Alright then, Ye-jun hyung."

Mu-ryeong, having spent his whole life calling people ‘hyung,’ found it far more natural than ‘senior.’ Without a second thought, he corrected himself, and from behind, Hwan-young let out a quiet, amused scoff.

"Seriously..." he muttered under his breath.

"Well then, we’re really leaving now."

This time, Ye-jun didn’t call them back. He simply watched their backs as they walked away, pressing his lips together and biting down on them slightly.

A few more days remained until the rainy season would come to an end.

At least until then, his sleepwalking wouldn’t return to haunt him.