Jinwoong, who had been locked up in the holding cell for two full days, looked gaunt and hollowed out. The skin beneath his eyes was sunken and dark, and his lips were covered in dry, flaking patches.
“Let’s just take a taxi.”
As they stepped outside the police station, raindrops began to fall one by one from the overcast sky.
He knew there was a bus stop nearby with a direct route home, but right now everything felt like too much effort. Siyun dropped tiredly onto a seat at the taxi stand. Jinwoong, as if fully aware of his own guilt, couldn’t bring himself to look up and stood awkwardly beside him.
“Sit down.”
Siyun gestured.
“I’m sorry.”
Lips pressed tightly together, Jinwoong muttered in a small, deflated voice.
“I must have been out of my mind. How could I do that to you….”
Jinwoong buried his face in both hands.
“I don’t even know why I did it.”
He said it hadn’t been of his own will — and with trembling shoulders, Jinwoong choked up.
“Do you remember any of it?”
Jinwoong’s shoulders twitched.
“…Vaguely.”
His voice dropped even smaller. Siyun let out yet another sigh. Jinwoong flinched, then hurried to murmur another apology.
“I’m really sorry. I know there’s nothing I could say to make this right, even if I had ten mouths to speak with, but truly….”
Jinwoong roughly dragged his hand down his face.
The truth was, Siyun had planned to make sure Jinwoong could never set foot in a haunted house again — but it seemed there was no need to say it.
Jinwoong, voice cracking, said it himself.
“I’m never going near a haunted house again as long as I live.”
Even without fully understanding what had happened, it seemed he’d at least figured out that whatever had gone wrong with him was because of that place.
Siyun started to reach up to his aching throat, then stopped himself.
“Good that you know. For now, don’t think about anything — just rest. Do you have any idea how you look right now? You look like you could drop any second.”
The Possession was one thing, but the process of removing a Vengeful spirit was generally brutal — he’d need to keep a close eye on Jinwoong for a while.
Jinwoong nodded. After that, neither of them said anything. They kept their eyes stubbornly fixed straight ahead and let the silence stretch. Then Jinwoong carefully opened his mouth.
“Yesterday….”
Siyun flinched slightly. Somehow he had a feeling he knew what Jinwoong was about to say.
“I… did I say that… to you….”
“Forget it.”
Siyun answered with a deliberate air of indifference.
“I said forget it. That wasn’t you anyway.”
Jinwoong flinched.
“Oh? Right, yeah, that’s true….”
Another awkward silence settled between them. A few minutes passed like that.
“But hey.”
Jinwoong looked like he was about to say something, but just then a taxi arrived. Siyun jumped to his feet and waved it down.
“Huh? Aren’t you getting in?”
When Siyun pushed only Jinwoong into the stopped taxi, Jinwoong looked puzzled.
“I’ve got somewhere to stop by.”
“Oh — where are you going?”
With one hand resting on the car door, Siyun let his gaze drift into the air for a moment.
“Later… I’ll explain later.”
Seeing the resolute look on Siyun’s face, Jinwoong didn’t push further. Siyun handed the driver more than enough fare and said,
“Please take care of him.”
He’d been out of his mind since the haunted house — there was no way Jinwoong had his wallet or phone on him.
“Sorry.”
Jinwoong wilted again and lowered his head, and Siyun gave him a rough “it’s fine” before shutting the door. The taxi pulled away.
Siyun watched it go for a moment, then slowly turned around.
He walked toward a black sedan parked roughly ten meters away.
The deeply tinted window glided smoothly down, revealing Gyohyun inside with his legs crossed. He gave a cheerful little wave.
“Welcome.”
Siyun stood frozen for a moment, hesitating. Then, as though accepting there was no escaping it, he slowly walked over and got in.
The moment he got into the sedan, a strange atmosphere filled the car. He forced himself to hide the tension locked into his face and fixed his gaze on his knees. The tips of his fingers, curled into tight fists, trembled with a faint tingle.
Gyohyun, on the other hand, looked to be in a good mood. He lazily tapped his fingers against his knee, an unhurried smile playing at the corners of his mouth without pause.
Tap, tap.
The sound of thickening raindrops striking the car body was unusually sharp and clear. Siyun’s gaze drifted along the rivulets of rain sliding down the window, then stilled.
A persistent gaze bore into the back of his head. Siyun stubbornly kept his eyes on the car window.
“Juhyeong.”
“Yes, Managing Director.”
“Is there anywhere decent to eat around here?”
“Cheongmi is about fifteen minutes away.”
“Then let’s go there.”
Juhyeong glanced up. Without realizing it, Siyun’s head had already turned toward Gyohyun as well.
“Let’s get Cha Siyun something to eat. That’s alright, isn’t it?”
It sounded like a question, but refusing wasn’t really an option. Siyun silently gave a single nod.
Gyohyun looked straight into Siyun’s eyes and drew the corners of his mouth up slightly. Tap, tap — the sound of rain against the car grew even more distinct.
The car slid smoothly into the busy road.
Whether because of the rain, they arrived a little later than the fifteen minutes he’d mentioned. The restaurant was tucked at the far edge of a densely residential area.
If not for the small sign at the entrance that read Cheongmi, one might have walked right past it thinking it was an ordinary home — it had that kind of understated appearance.
“Managing Director, you’ve arrived.”
Somehow already aware of their arrival, a woman who appeared to be the owner stepped out to the entrance and bowed. She seemed to know Gyohyun well — without any further exchange, she led them inside.
“I wasn’t informed in advance, so I apologize — but are there any foods your companion particularly prefers or dislikes?”
Caught off guard by the sudden question, Siyun blinked with a faintly bewildered look.
“Nothing in particular….”
Siyun trailed off, and the owner asked again.
“Then might I ask whether you prefer meat or fish?”
“…Fish, I’d say, though I don’t dislike meat either.”
It’s just that grilling things is a hassle, so I don’t bother. The reason Siyun often ate sushi wasn’t only because of taste — it was also because there was no lingering smell and the cleanup was easy.
“Then a clear, light broth soup would suit you well.”
The owner read his palate with practiced ease and nodded.
“Something easy on the stomach, if you could.”
Gyohyun added.
Unlike the modest impression at the entrance, the interior was quite spacious. A large tree caught the eye beyond the garden, and following a neatly swept stone path, they arrived at another door. When the owner opened it, yet another world unfolded before them.
Along both walls of the corridor, landscape paintings and literati paintings hung at even intervals.
“Right this way.”
