âDo you know him?â
âNoâ¦.â
Mu-ryeong shook his head with an uncertain expression. Not exactly someone I know. Even as he said it, there was something unsettled in his voice.
Just then, as if sensing their presence, the student slowly turned around.
âOh⦠were you about to go inside?â
He had a well-groomed appearance with a somewhat fragile aura. His height was similar to Seung-jooâs, and his build was solid and proportional. With an easy-going smile, he stepped aside slightly.
âSorry, go ahead.â
His composed demeanor, the way he casually spoke without honorifics, and the fact that his name tag was stitched in a different colorâeverything pointed to him being a third-year student. Seung-joo had already come to this conclusion when he started walking past him.
But thenâ
ââ¦Kim Mu-ryeong?â
The student said his name.
Seung-joo and Hwan-young turned their heads at the same time. Didnât you just say you didnât know him? Their gazes wordlessly questioned Mu-ryeong. However, Mu-ryeong, unfazed, simply nodded.
âAre you here for the request?â
ââ¦Oh, the request.â
Seung-joo immediately lost interest and walked into the classroom, while Hwan-young remained standing firmly behind Mu-ryeong. Even though Mu-ryeong had let go of his wrist, it didnât seem like he planned on leaving.
âUh, wellâ¦â
The student glanced between Mu-ryeong and Hwan-young with an awkward expression. Then, after scanning their surroundings as if making sure no one was listening, he cautiously asked:
âCould we⦠talk alone for a moment?â
***
They headed to an empty study room. Originally designated for high-achieving students, the room had been left vacant after night study sessions were abolished. Now, it was only opened during school breaks upon student request.
As soon as they entered, the student walked to the farthest corner of the room, away from the door. After motioning for Mu-ryeong to sit first, he dragged a chair close and took a seat next to him, his expression serious. The study desks had partitions like cubicles, ensuring that even if someone entered, they wouldnât immediately see the two of them.
âSoâ¦.â
Mu-ryeong didnât rush him, patiently waiting for him to continue. If someone who had never even spoken to him before sought him out, it was almost always for a request. And sure enough, the student lowered his voice and said:
âIâm here to make a request.â
Mu-ryeong nodded. He accepted requests from anyone, regardless of age or gender. Though it had been a while since his last one, he used to receive at least one per week.
âDo I⦠need to pay you?â
âNo, I donât take money.â
Most people already knew that. It seemed this senior hadnât heard about it.
âJust give me something oldâat least ten years old.â
ââ¦Ten years?â
âYeah. It could be an eraser, a worn-out pencil, or even a childhood toy. As long as itâs small, like something that fits in the palm of your hand.â
Mu-ryeong held up his hand as an example. His pale, delicate fingers had a few calluses scattered across them. The student, nodding seriously, hesitated before asking with visible concern:
ââ¦Youâll keep this a secret, right?â
That went without saying. Unless the client spoke about it first, Mu-ryeong never discussed requests with anyoneânot even Seung-joo.
âYeah, I wonât tell anyone.â
His clear, sincere smile didnât belong to someone who would spread rumors. At last, the student let out a relieved sigh, his previously tense shoulders relaxing. Finally meeting Mu-ryeongâs gaze, he slowly spoke.
âI have sleepwalking episodesâ¦.â
His problem was this: every night, he had the same dream. And whenever he woke up, he found himself at school.
His sleepwalking had worsened to the point that he had started visiting hospitals, but the doctors could only tell him that there was no clear cause or treatment.
âPeople with sleepwalking donât usually do complex actions, right? Thatâs why the hospital told me to tie my feet down when I sleep. But it doesnât help at all.â
Even when his family triple-locked the front door, he somehow managed to unlock all of them and leave. If they tied his legs, he untied them. And now, he even changed into his school uniform in his sleep.
âThis morning, I woke up lying in front of the annex.â
Every time he woke up, he was startled. On normal days, at least the weather had been clear. But today, with the rain, it had been a complete disaster. He had to run home, change clothes, and make it back before being marked late.
âWhen did this start?â
âSince I became a third-year. The hospital said it might be stress-related.â
âWhat kind of dreams do you have?â
âAh, well⦠Iâm always searching for something.â
âDo you remember what it is?â
âNo, not at all.â
Mu-ryeong exhaled lightly. His contemplative expression must have made the student anxious because his face grew tense, as if bracing for disappointment.
âIf itâs too difficult, you can just say soâ¦.â
Even as he spoke, his fingers fidgeted nervously. It was a habit, but Mu-ryeong noticed something concerningâhis hands were covered in small cuts and scrapes.
ââ¦How did you hurt your hands?â
The scattered wounds looked uncomfortable. Especially since hands were constantly in use, always being washed or exposed to water. Wouldnât they sting?
âOh, I mustâve hurt myself in my sleep again. I have no idea how, but when I woke up, my hands were covered in dirt.â
Changing clothes was one thing, but scrubbing the dirt off his hands that morning had been an ordeal. His fingernails had turned black, and even after three rounds of soap, the grime wouldnât completely wash away. To make matters worse, the cuts stung the entire time.
âBut this is nothing. Last time, I mustâve fallen or something because my knees were completely scraped up⦠The pain was bad enough, but whatâs even more annoying is not knowing how I got hurt in the first place.â
He kept rambling on, venting his frustrations. How guilty he felt every time the English teacher mentioned the ruined flower bed, how strange rumors had started spreading among the third years because of the mess.
His words spilled out effortlessly, until he caught sight of Mu-ryeongâs serious nod. That finally made him stop. He hadnât meant to go on a full rant, but for some reason, the atmosphere felt comfortable, and before he knew it, he had just kept talking.
âAnyway⦠itâs fine if you canât do anything. I mean, if even the doctors couldnât fix it, what could you possibly do?â
It had already been over three months since his sleepwalking started. And it was only getting worse. If this was really just stress-related, there was no clear solution. At this point, he wondered if the doctors were just using âstressâ as a polite way to say incurable condition.
âI only brought it up just in caseâ¦.â
It was a would be nice, but I wonât get my hopes up kind of thing. He didnât want to tell his friends and risk rumors spreading, but then he overheard talk about someone who was supposedly really good at solving weird problems.
So, he figured heâd try. At the very least, Mu-ryeong didnât seem like the type to gossip. If he said no, the student would drop it and move on.
âDonât feel pressured or anythiââ
âI can fix it.â
Mu-ryeongâs confident voice cut through his words. He flashed a bright, dimpled smile as he added:
âIâll take care of it.â
ââ¦..â
The student, caught off guard, found himself nodding without thinking. There was something so reassuring about the way Mu-ryeong said it. But before he could fully process it, Mu-ryeongâs expression suddenly changed, as if he had just remembered something.
âAh, but not right away. I need until next week. Is that okay?â
âOh, I mean⦠as long as it gets fixed, I donât care if it takes a month or two.â
That was his honest truth. If it meant he wouldnât have to fall asleep dreading where heâd wake up next, he didnât care how long it took.
âOne or two months would be too much for you to deal with.â
Mu-ryeong said it so casually, as if this was just another simple task. Then, he glanced at the clock on the wall. There were about ten minutes left in the lunch break.
âDo you have anything else to tell me?â@@novelbin@@
ââ¦No, thatâs it.â
âAlright, then letâs go with that. You can give me the payment after everything is settled.â
Mu-ryeong grinned as he got up from his seat. The student followed, feeling almost dazed. Everything had moved so smoothly, so effortlesslyâlike he was under some kind of spell.
âOh, right.â
Just before leaving the study room, Mu-ryeong let out a soft hum of realization. Then, turning to the student, he asked, almost offhandedly:
âHave you ever had a dream about getting lost?â
ââ¦How do you know that?â
The studentâs eyes widened in shock. His voice came out slightly higher than usual, clearly caught off guard.
âAbout a month ago, I had a dream where I was lost, just wandering in circles. And when I woke up, I was in my classroom. It scared the hell out of me.â
That time, he had felt utterly disoriented. He had gone to bed at home, but when he opened his eyes, he was slumped over his desk in the classroom.
And the strangest part? He had changed into his uniform in his sleep, his bag full of workbooks neatly placed beside him.
Thankfully, he hadnât experienced anything like it again since.
âThatâs crazy⦠How did you know? Do you have some kind of psychic ability?â
âSomething like that.â
Mu-ryeong nodded, not bothering to correct him. Whether it was an exorcist or a psychic, to the average person, they all seemed the same anyway. It was easier to let him think that.
âIâll come find you in Class 1 once everythingâs settled.â
âOh, yeah. Butâ¦â
The student started to say something, but Mu-ryeong had already opened the door and stepped out.
Left alone for a moment, the student hesitated, then awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. Under his breath, he murmured something Mu-ryeong wouldnât hear.
ââ¦I never told him I was in Class 1.â