Mu-ryeong’s Spirit

As Mu-ryeong reached that thought, he slowed his steps slightly. The final wall Hwan-young had mentioned had one somewhat functional talisman attached to it. Mu-ryeong extended his arm behind Hwan-young, his hand coated with spiritual energy, and breathed power into the charm.

It was only a temporary fix—at best, it would last a single day. But for now, at least, nothing would be able to follow Hwan-young around this corner. It might not do much against stronger spirits, but for weaker, wandering ghosts, it would serve as a deterrent.

"Is this your house?"

"Yeah."

They passed the stone wall and stopped in front of a thin metal gate. The sun had already set, leaving the surroundings steeped in darkness. Hwan-young retrieved a key from the mailbox, unlocked the gate, and stepped inside.

The house they entered looked worn but cared for. Though the yard was overgrown with dried grass, and paint peeled off in patches, there were remnants of past maintenance efforts. Mu-ryeong thought that if it had been well-kept, it could have resembled a quaint guesthouse.

"Your house is pretty nice."

He wasn’t expecting a response, but Hwan-young didn’t even acknowledge the comment. He merely glanced at Mu-ryeong with an expression that read, What are you even talking about? Then, unlocking the front door, he pushed it open wide and jerked his chin toward the entrance.

"Get inside."

"…"

For some reason, Mu-ryeong felt a twinge of nervousness. Gripping his bag strap tightly, he slowly stepped forward.

From the moment the door opened, he could feel spiritual energy swirling inside. Not the presence of a malevolent spirit—this energy belonged to the living person standing right in front of him.

"…Huh."

Hadn’t he already said it before? Hwan-young’s spiritual energy was abnormally pure, strong enough that even Mu-ryeong felt refreshed just being near it.

But stepping into the house, he felt it tenfold.

His mind cleared instantly, the weight of exhaustion melting from his body. It felt like his entire condition had reset to its peak—even better than when he had briefly touched Hwan-young’s hand.

"This house is… seriously amazing…"

The remark was genuine, but Hwan-young once again looked at him like he was crazy. His expression suggested he was moments away from saying, What’s so great about this run-down house?

Mu-ryeong took a deep breath and neatly removed his shoes near the entrance.

"Should I put these in the shoe cabinet?"

"Do whatever you want."

The entrance was spacious enough that there wasn’t much need to tuck them away. Mu-ryeong took another step inside, scanning the interior.

The living room was furnished with a TV and a sofa, yet there was something oddly lifeless about it. Likely because the furniture was old and worn-out.

"Oh, right. Later, can I—"

He turned his head mid-sentence and immediately shut his mouth.

Hwan-young, who should have entered behind him, was still standing at the entrance.

Following his gaze, Mu-ryeong looked down and saw his own shoes, neatly placed.

"…Should I put them in the cabinet?"

He asked again, but Hwan-young didn’t answer. Instead, as he slowly removed his own sneakers, he simply repeated his earlier question.

"Finish what you were saying. 'Later, can I' what?"

"Oh… uh. I was going to ask if I could borrow some pajamas."

The two pairs of shoes, now placed side by side, looked strangely mismatched. One pair was significantly larger, the other comparatively smaller. If Seung-joo had been there, he would’ve patted Mu-ryeong’s head and said, ‘You’re still growing.’

"I can’t sleep in my uniform, after all."

Mu-ryeong tugged at the hem of his shirt as he spoke. He was wearing a T-shirt underneath, so the top wasn’t much of an issue, but he definitely needed to change his pants. It would be uncomfortable rolling around in his school uniform. If he could borrow a loose shirt as well, even better.

"Pajamas…"

Hwan-young muttered the word, dragging it out. His sharp eyes narrowed as he scanned Mu-ryeong up and down. Then, tilting his head slightly, he murmured in doubt.

"I don’t think I have anything that’ll fit you."

Not an untrue statement, but also not something that required such a serious expression.

"Anything is fine. If it’s too big, I’ll just fold it up."

Mu-ryeong offered a reasonable solution, but Hwan-young’s expression remained unconvinced. After a pause, he glanced back at his own shoes, then asked in a quiet, matter-of-fact tone:

"What about underwear?"

"…Uh. Are you offering to lend me some?"

That’s… a bit much.

"I have new ones. Just wear them and take them with you."

Mu-ryeong hadn’t even planned on borrowing any, but he decided to just accept it without argument. And while he was at it, he figured he might as well be a bit shameless—so he asked for an extra toothbrush too.

Hwan-young simply nodded without hesitation and headed inside.

"I’ll get you something to change into. Go take a shower first."

Mu-ryeong trailed behind him as he walked further in.

Unlike the lifeless living room, Hwan-young’s room actually looked lived in. There was a desk lined with study books, a wardrobe filled with uniforms and jackets, and a bed with a charger plugged in nearby—likely where he usually lay down.

"And for food, all I have is a convenience store meal—"

Mu-ryeong’s eyes locked onto something on the desk.

A photo frame.

Inside was a picture of two children.

Both of them looked exactly like Hwan-young.

The boy on the left? Ki Hwan-young.
The boy on the right? Also Ki Hwan-young.

"…Twins?"

Before he could process it any further—thud.

The frame was flipped over, face down.

A large hand had slammed it shut.

Mu-ryeong flinched, startled. Looking up, he met Hwan-young’s eyes.

His face was ice-cold.

"What are you doing?"

"…"

That was an overreaction.

Mu-ryeong had only looked at the frame because it was sitting there in plain sight.

“…Sorry, I won’t look.”

But still, he apologized without hesitation. If it was something Hwan-young didn’t want to show, then Mu-ryeong had no reason to pry.

Besides…

He’s dead.

The realization struck him instinctively. One of the boys in the photo was no longer alive.

The house held no trace of anyone else—only Mu-ryeong and Hwan-young’s presence. The entrance had only their two pairs of shoes, and nowhere inside suggested the existence of another resident. Even if the twins had shared everything, the sheer lack of presence was unnatural.

“That’s the change of clothes for me, right? I’ll take a quick shower. Where’s the bathroom?”

"…"

Mu-ryeong purposefully spoke in a lighthearted tone as he took the clothes from Hwan-young’s hand.@@novelbin@@

Hwan-young, despite the obvious wariness in his gaze, simply gave him directions to the bathroom. It was straight outside the room, to the right. With a nod, Mu-ryeong stepped out.

As soon as the door shut behind him, he covered his mouth, his expression troubled. His usually gentle eyes darkened in thought.

A dead twin. And Ki Hwan-young, whose spiritual power rivaled that of an exorcist.

“…I hope I’m wrong.”

But even as he whispered those words, his expression was filled with certainty.

***

By the time Mu-ryeong finished his shower, Hwan-young was sitting on the living room sofa. Judging by his casual attire and the towel draped around his neck, there was another bathroom elsewhere in the house.

Mu-ryeong’s gaze lingered on Hwan-young’s damp, black hair, before he calmly called his name.

"Ki Hwan-young."

"…"

A slight flinch.

His broad shoulders tensed visibly, a small motion but enough for Mu-ryeong to notice the startled reaction. When Hwan-young turned to look at him, Mu-ryeong gave an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, but… do you have any smaller clothes?"

From the moment he pulled the T-shirt over his head, Mu-ryeong had realized—Ah. This is basically a blanket.

"I don’t think tightening the waistband will fix this."

He had underestimated the size difference.

The sleeves were ridiculously long, and the neckline was so wide that even standing still, his collarbones were completely exposed. And the length? Even if he had borrowed his dad’s clothes, they wouldn’t have been this oversized.

The shirt was at least wearable, but the pants were a disaster. He had to fold the hems four times, tighten the elastic as much as possible, and still had to hold them up just to walk out of the bathroom.

If he let go for even a second, they’d drop right to the floor.

"Damn, you’re really tall…"

"Hah."

Hwan-young let out a short breathy laugh, almost like a scoff of disbelief.

"I told you nothing would fit you."

"Yeah, but I didn’t expect this level of difference."

He had known that there would be some size discrepancy. Hwan-young was tall—even for a model—while Mu-ryeong was still growing and on the shorter side.

What he hadn’t accounted for was how different their entire frames were.

"…Should I just not wear pants?"

They were both guys, after all. Just wearing underwear shouldn’t be a problem, right?

His shirt was long enough to cover things decently. The underwear was also slightly big, but at least it wouldn’t fall down.

"I’ll get you my middle school clothes."

Without hesitation, Hwan-young turned and walked into his room.

Mu-ryeong awkwardly hoisted his pants up again. Yeah… walking around without pants might’ve been too much.

The clothes Hwan-young returned with were his old middle school gym uniform—a white collared T-shirt and green shorts.

They were still a bit loose on Mu-ryeong but far better than before.

"How tall are you? Were you always this big since middle school?"

Hwan-young tossed his towel into a laundry basket before heading to the kitchen. He pulled two convenience store meals from the fridge and placed them in the microwave. As he tapped the buttons, he answered without much thought.

"I was 190 cm at my last check-up. I was tall even in middle school."

When Mu-ryeong muttered, "I’m jealous," Hwan-young’s expression twisted into an obvious grimace.

"Why do you keep following me around?"

"Ah."

Mu-ryeong, who had been lingering nearby, let out a small laugh.

Not a big grin, just enough that his dimple appeared in his cheek. At the same time, his hazel-brown eyes shifted subtly to the side.

"I just… felt bad sitting down while you’re preparing food."

"…"

Hwan-young’s expression quickly turned exasperated.

He looked at the microwave, his gaze unusually conflicted.

Just then, the timer beeped.

With a sigh, he jerked his chin toward the dining table.

"Just sit down. You’re distracting."

"Okay."

Mu-ryeong obediently sat at the table, waiting as Hwan-young placed the two meal trays in front of them.

Hwan-young sat across from him, setting out disposable chopsticks. But then, seeing Mu-ryeong still sitting quietly, he muttered with clear reluctance in his voice.