UTPT Ch 21

A little past six in the morning, Yihyun’s eyes snapped open. He had completely adjusted to falling asleep around ten and waking up at six, so he woke up at the same time even without an alarm clock.

The cozy blanket was entirely different from the one in the annex. The thick cotton comforter there had been heavy, but it didn’t wrap around the body well, allowing cold air to seep in through the gaps. In contrast, this blanket enveloped him snugly, and since the air was warm anyway, he didn’t feel cold at all.

So winter could be this warm. The floor beneath his feet was warm as well.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Yihyun reached for the paper bag and took the tree branch in his hand. Should he call the divine spirit now? He had grown up in a family of fortune tellers and could actually see spirits and hear their voices, yet the whole process still felt awkward to him.

“…Spirit-nim.”

Nothing happened. Clutching the twig tightly with both hands, Yihyun called out once more, this time with his eyes closed.

“Spirit-nim.”

— Yeah.

“Whoa.”

— Why are you so surprised?

“You’re really the divine spirit, right?”

— I am.

“…It feels strange only hearing your voice.”

— It can’t be helped. I’m a spirit bound to this tree, so I can’t stray too far from it.

Yihyun vaguely recalled the spirit saying something like that before and simply nodded. The spirit couldn’t move freely but could use talismans as a medium to send other ghosts that had gathered around his body to wherever they needed to go. If that was the case, wouldn’t it be possible to do the same with his own soul? The thought crossed Yihyun’s mind for a moment, but it wasn’t something he could ask.

“You should’ve told me in advance…”

Then maybe it wouldn’t have been so embarrassing. Mumbling to himself, Yihyun blamed the divine spirit for making him show nothing but his shortcomings in front of Doyoon. Maybe it was actually a good thing that he had exposed everything from the start, so now there was nothing left to be ashamed of.

— It wouldn’t have changed anything even if I had told you in advance, so what’s the point?

“Still.”

— In just one day, you’ve started talking back more, huh?

Yihyun gasped, clamped his mouth shut, and glanced around warily. Just because the spirit was invisible didn’t mean he should be complaining like this when he normally wouldn’t.

— It’s too late. Did you really think I didn’t know you were already saying everything in your head?

“……”

— So, how is it out there?

“…There’s so much delicious food.”

A quiet chuckle echoed in the air. The jjajangmyeon and tangsuyuk he had eaten yesterday had been so delicious that it felt tragic to have only one stomach. Now he finally understood why people on TV always looked like they were enjoying jjajangmyeon and tangsuyuk so much.

“What about you, Spirit-nim?”

— It’s the same for me, as always.

“Because I’m not there…”

— You were like a thorn stuck under my fingernail. Now that you’re gone, it’s such a relief.

At the divine spirit’s words, Yihyun’s shoulders sagged slightly. Even in that household, the only one he had ever had anything resembling a conversation with was this spirit. And yet, hearing that even the spirit was glad he was gone made his heart feel overgrown with weeds.

— Your husband, by the way.

“…Doyoon-ssi?”

The word husband caught Yihyun off guard, and he quickly cupped his burning cheeks. He was a man, yet having a husband didn’t feel strange at all—it was odd even to himself.

— Yes.

“You said it was great fortune.”

— That’s true, but… there’s a bit of misfortune mixed in as well.

“…For whom? For Doyoon-ssi?”

— For both of you.

“What should I do, then?”

— Who knows? I only observe.

Misfortune mixed in? Yihyun bit down on his lip and got up, pacing around the room. The misfortune the divine spirit spoke of could mean many things—physical injury, emotional hardship, or even public humiliation.

However, unless it was something imminent, the spirit couldn’t see the details. That was why shamans existed—to interpret the misfortunes spirits saw, analyze the circumstances of those seeking a reading, and determine the most likely outcome.

If someone did physical labor, they would be warned to be cautious of accidents. If they struggled with relationships, they would be advised to guard their heart. If they were in the public eye, they would be told to beware of disgrace.

— It’s the kind of misfortune everyone has, so it’ll be fine.

“But…”

— It’s not like you’re going to become a shaman, so what does it matter?

At the spirit’s sharp remark, Yihyun’s shoulders slumped. Why was he always a burden to everyone, never of any real help? Maybe it would be better to learn shamanism. What if what Doyoon wanted was a fortune reading or a ritual to dispel misfortune?

— Anyway, I’ve decided to look after you for a bit, so… I’ll watch over your husband, too. If I see anything, I’ll let you know, so don’t worry too much.

“…Okay.”

— The real problem is that Lee Doyoon has the worst compatibility with everyone in your family, except for you.

“Then what should I do?”

— What do you mean, what should you do? You don’t match with them either. Just stick close to Lee Doyoon.

“Okay…”

— The family I’ve risked everything to protect for nearly a thousand years… Sigh… Everything that dies and disappears is bound to have no reason. A thousand years was long enough.

Muttering cryptically to himself, the spirit fell silent at the sound of a door clicking open.

Yihyun, who had been staring blankly into space while holding the twig, jumped in surprise.

“Were you already awake?”

“Ah… yes! I just woke up.”

“You wake up early.”

Realizing that Doyoon’s gaze had landed on the twig in his hand, Yihyun slowly moved his arm behind his back. He hoped Doyoon would let it slide, but that hope was immediately shattered.

“I’ve been wanting to ask—what is that tree branch?”

“Ah, this….”

“Yes, that.”

“…Someone told me to take it.”

“Who?”

He couldn’t exactly say “the divine spirit.” And if Doyoon asked who the spirit was, what would he even say? That it was a thousand-year-old ghost? Yihyun couldn’t outright refuse to answer, but since he couldn’t lie either, he had no choice but to press his lips shut.

“There’s no food in the house, so I was thinking of ordering fast food for delivery. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

Grateful that Doyoon had changed the subject, Yihyun nodded enthusiastically. He didn’t know what fast food was, but having lived on barely seasoned potatoes, sweet potatoes, and carrots, he doubted there was any food he wouldn’t find delicious.

“I’ll just choose what to get.”

“Okay.”

Besides, there hadn’t been a single thing Doyoon had given him so far that he disliked. Only after Doyoon, still wearing a slightly enigmatic expression, left the room and shut the door did Yihyun finally drop his tense shoulders and let out a heavy sigh.

He hid the tree branch under his pillow, tidied up the bed, and stepped outside. After a quick trip to the bathroom, he returned to find Doyoon hunched over a rectangular device, his expression serious even this early in the morning. Finding it hard to approach him, Yihyun quietly took a seat at the dining table.

Tap, tap. Doyoon’s fingers drummed on the table—long, straight fingers with prominent knuckles and large palms. Yihyun cautiously spread his own hand open for a moment before clenching it tightly.

Doyoon’s face was as handsome as the people on TV—no, even more so. Sometimes, Yihyun got so distracted just looking at him that he completely missed what he was saying. He already struggled to understand many words, so he needed to focus in order to grasp even a little more. Every time it happened, he wanted to knock himself on the head.

“Why are you sitting over there?”

“…Huh?”

“Come sit here. The dining chair is hard.”

As if spellbound, Yihyun stood up and moved next to Doyoon. The moment he settled onto the plush sofa, he caught a faintly sweet scent. Unconsciously flaring his nostrils to take in the smell, he suddenly became aware of Doyoon’s gaze sweeping over his exposed skin and instinctively tugged at his pajama sleeve.

“Your skin here is all dry.”

Doyoon casually pushed up the sleeve with his fingertips. From his wrist to his arm, Yihyun’s skin was pale, as if covered in ringworm.

“It’s the same on your legs.”

At Doyoon’s words, Yihyun rolled up his pant leg himself this time. From his ankle to his knee, his skin looked the same.

It had always been like this in winter, so he never thought it was a problem. But if Doyoon was pointing it out… did that mean other people didn’t have this issue? Then what exactly was this?

Could it be… dirt coming off? But he had scrubbed so hard in the bath yesterday. When he was a child, the nanny who cared for him until he was ten had despised anything dirty, so no matter how bitterly cold the winter was, she made sure he bathed every two or three days. If he refused, she would pour ice-cold water over him.

Then why was his skin like this? A sudden rush of blood flooded his face, as if it might burst at any moment.

“Maybe it’s because the house is dry.”

Doyoon went into the bedroom and returned with something in his hand, handing it to Yihyun.

“Put this on. It should help.”

“…It’s not dirt, right?”

“You would know that better than I would.”

“I scrubbed really hard yesterday….”

“Then it’s not.”

Yihyun’s voice even cracked with indignation. Firmly pressing down on the container Doyoon had given him, he squeezed out its contents before rolling up his sleeves and pant legs to spread it over his skin. Watching him apply it roughly, Doyoon scooped some of the cream into his own hand.

“Give me your arm.”

The sticky texture wasn’t particularly pleasant, but refusing Doyoon was impossible. Without a word, Yihyun stretched out his arm.