Mu-ryeong stared at the teddy bear sitting on the junior’s desk. The worn-out plush, stripped of all its accessories, looked eerily similar to one Seolgi used to play with. The frayed edges, the careful mending—despite its battered state, it hadn’t been thrown away.It wasn’t hard to guess who had played with that teddy bear, or why the junior couldn’t bring themselves to discard it. And beyond that, Mu-ryeong couldn’t forget what the junior had said to him earlier."I just… sometimes, I wish souls were real."“……”Careful not to step on Min-ji, Mu-ryeong slowly approached the bed. The small, fragile creature before him lacked even the faintest trace of resentment—the kind that usually clung to the dead. When Mu-ryeong got closer, the puppy lifted its head and tilted it to the side, gazing at him curiously.Gently, Mu-ryeong extended the back of his hand toward its snout. The puppy sniffed at it, its nose twitching with innocent curiosity. Slowly, Mu-ryeong stroked under its chin, then lifted its small body into his hands."Good boy."Its long tail swayed back and forth. As he cradled the puppy in his arms, it eagerly licked his cheek. The sensation was both cool and uncanny—like all spirits without a shell.The junior, whose sobs had quieted as the puppy’s energy faded, still sniffled but no longer shed tears. Their tear-streaked face was pitiful to look at.***When Mu-ryeong stepped out of the room, someone was standing just outside the door. Holding the puppy in his arms, he blinked up at the figure—a tall person in a slightly undersized tracksuit, watching him with an unreadable expression."…What’s with the dog?"It was Ki Hwan-young."……"Mu-ryeong wasn’t startled. Just a little caught off guard. He was used to things suddenly appearing, but it was rare for them to be people."Didn’t you go to sleep?" he asked, tilting his head.Hwan-young had been completely silent. Mu-ryeong hadn’t noticed his presence at all. He’d assumed he was asleep, but now here he was, awake as if nothing had happened."…I was just going to the bathroom.""Ah."Mu-ryeong nodded absently and adjusted his hold on the puppy. Even with the arrival of a stranger, the spirit in his arms remained perfectly calm.It was hard to believe such a gentle soul had been haunting its owner all this time. The way things had played out was nothing but tragic."…Usually, spirits linger because they have unfinished business," Mu-ryeong murmured.The words tumbled out abruptly, without context. His chest felt tight—like something was gnawing at him from the inside, and if he didn’t voice it, he might choke on it. Of course, he’d pull himself together soon enough, but at this moment, he needed to let it out."They drift through this world until their sorrow festers. If they let it consume them… they turn into vengeful spirits.""……"Hwan-young listened without a ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) word. When Mu-ryeong moved toward the living room, he followed quietly. Mu-ryeong sank down in front of the table, placing the puppy gently on his lap."But animals don’t work that way."The puppy blinked up at him with round, glossy eyes—black as polished stones, impossibly endearing. Even its well-groomed fur hinted at how deeply it had been loved."Animals never become vengeful spirits."Not just the ones who had lived happy lives, but even those who had died unjustly. No matter what happened, they never harbored hatred. They weren’t driven by anger—only fear.The puppy wriggled out of Mu-ryeong’s lap and trotted toward Hwan-young. It wagged its tail, attempting to jump into his arms. But Hwan-young, wrapped in his own spiritual energy, gently pushed it away. The puppy barked—a small, indignant "Woof!"—before scampering over to the couch, pawing at the floor beneath it."…Was it the family dog?" Hwan-young asked, scanning the room. There were no other obvious signs, but the scuffs on the couch, the frayed cushions—small traces of a pet that had once lived here—were undeniable.Mu-ryeong took a deep breath, then smiled faintly as if nothing was wrong."You remember what I told you earlier, right?""……""The cycle of grief."Mu-ryeong recalled how the puppy had licked its owner’s face, its ears and tail drooping, whimpering in distress—how it had fidgeted anxiously, desperate to help but unsure how."Spirits often respond to human emotions," he continued. "If someone is sad, angry, or full of despair, they’re drawn to that negativity.""……"The junior must have spent years grieving the loss of their beloved family member. Their sorrow had been strong enough to keep the puppy from crossing the Rainbow Bridge."They must have cried every day. Thinking about it, mourning it. And that kept the puppy from moving on."In the end, it was only out of concern. The puppy’s only lingering attachment had been its owner’s sadness. It had only wanted to stay because its owner seemed to need it."It must’ve been so confused. Its owner cried every night, but no matter how much it licked their face, they didn’t react. It begged them to play, but they never looked its way."The puppy trotted back over to Mu-ryeong, lowering its front half into a playful stance. Its tail wagged, its bright eyes filled with excitement. Spirits didn’t realize they were dead. This one, too, still believed it was alive."But… no matter how weak they are, spirits are still spirits…"Spiritual energy, by nature, had a negative impact on the living. Shell-less souls unknowingly drained life from those around them."If it lay on top of them while they slept, of course they’d feel like they were being crushed."The junior had no spiritual energy of their own, but that didn’t mean they were immune. They weren’t a target, but once they caught a spirit’s attention, they were just as vulnerable. Just like how Seung-joo—completely devoid of spiritual energy—had still ended up with a broken wrist because of a vengeful spirit."…So, what do we do?""There are two ways."It was the same thing he had told the junior in the self-study room. Mu-ryeong lowered his gaze, stroking the puppy curled up on his lap."I can use my power to keep it away."With Mu-ryeong’s spiritual energy, hiding a person from a weak soul like this wasn’t difficult. If the puppy couldn’t get close, the junior wouldn’t experience sleep paralysis anymore. Eventually, their sadness would fade, and the puppy would naturally pass on.Of course, that meant the puppy would spend days whimpering, unable to comfort its owner."Or, they could stop grieving."Mu-ryeong gestured toward the junior’s room with a tilt of his chin. Hwan-young said nothing, merely watching the spirit nestled in Mu-ryeong’s arms. For a moment, something close to helplessness flickered in those dark eyes."Using force…"Hwan-young hesitated before locking eyes with Mu-ryeong. Seeing the unspoken question in his gaze, Mu-ryeong gave a slight nod, silently encouraging him to continue. Hwan-young’s tightly pressed lips parted slightly."…Doesn’t seem like something you’d want to do."Though his words were indirect, he was clearly advising against it. Even the way he spoke—blunt yet hesitant—was just like him. Mu-ryeong already understood exactly who Hwan-young was empathizing with."Yeah. I won’t use force."A bright smile crossed Mu-ryeong’s face, as if he had already shaken off the weight of his emotions. The puppy bit at his collar playfully before rolling onto its back, wagging its tail."I told you, didn’t I? As long as the emotional wound is healed, everything will be fine."Mu-ryeong recalled the way the junior had kept muttering apologies through their tears—apologies that didn’t seem to have any real meaning. More than guilt, it had been the expression of regret and unresolved longing."I’ll talk to them when they wake up."Coming to terms with the death of a loved one was painful, but Mu-ryeong knew that death wasn’t the end. That was why, even when his father passed away, he had been able to recover before too long. It was also why exorcists—who dealt with death constantly—never feared it."How long do dogs live?"Hwan-young asked the question while staring at the small spirit. Perhaps still upset about being pushed away earlier, the puppy didn’t even attempt to approach him again. That, at least, was a relief."If they’re lucky, about fifteen years."Mu-ryeong answered lightly, but his lips curled into a slow, subdued smile. Dimples appeared in his fair cheeks, but despite the smile, there was something bitter about it."That’s so short, isn’t it?""……"There was no response. But Mu-ryeong could tell from the silence that Hwan-young agreed.Softly, in his youthful voice, Mu-ryeong murmured,"Sometimes, I wish I could share my lifespan with them."The lives of small creatures were unbearably brief—too short for them to fully experience happiness. The more precious they were, the more fleeting they seemed."Do you really see ghosts, oppa?"Perhaps, back then, the junior hadn’t been hoping for a denial. Maybe when they wished for souls to exist, they had been thinking of this—this small, precious spirit.What had only been a guess before now felt like certainty. Mu-ryeong knew the answer he had to give.The two of them remained in the living room, speaking in hushed voices until dawn. Mu-ryeong played with the puppy throughout the night, and by the time the first light touched the sky, the small spirit had vanished. No doubt, when night fell again, it would return to comfort its owner."Looks like you stayed up all night too."Mu-ryeong yawned widely, stretching as he glanced toward the brightening sky outside the living room window. Watching him, Hwan-young turned his head slightly and let out a small yawn as well. Mu-ryeong blinked sleepily before pushing himself to his feet."Let’s get some sleep. We can manage at least two hours."Without a word, Hwan-young followed his lead. Then, as if he had just remembered something, he suddenly spoke—his tone reminiscent of that rainy night when he had waited for the goblin with Mu-ryeong."…Were you planning to stay up alone?"Something about the way he asked made Mu-ryeong wrinkle his nose slightly as he turned to look at him. It made his chest feel oddly ticklish."I wasn’t planning on staying up all night, but…" Mu-ryeong started, but before he could finish, Hwan-young cut in lightly,"Next time, call me.""……""Don’t do it alone."Before Mu-ryeong could respond, Hwan-young turned and disappeared into his room.The words he left behind lingered in Mu-ryeong’s ears—strangely warm, strangely soft.

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