SMFC | Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Is there anything more foolish than arguing with the dead? Hoping he wouldn’t become the fool to make that mistake, Yoo Haeon rose from the bed to tidy Lee Soo’s messy hair, ruffled from his restless tossing.

As Haeon quietly moved, Mu, who had been silently watching him, spoke in a low, somber tone.

“Do whatever Lee Soo says. That’s the only way for you to survive.”

The weight of Mu’s words was starkly different from their earlier casual conversation. Startled, Haeon turned to look at him, but Mu had already vanished, leaving nothing behind but the lingering echo of his warning.

If it weren’t for the faint smell of blood, rotting corpses, and the sharp undertone of spices lingering in the air, Yoo Haeon might have dismissed it all as a dream. The way Mu had vanished so suddenly left behind an eerie sense of unreality.

Thinking how arbitrary and cryptic Mu had been, Haeon carefully adjusted Lee Soo’s position to ensure his head wasn’t resting uncomfortably. But as he moved, he froze.

Do whatever Lee Soo says… and that’s your only way to survive?
It wasn’t just advice—it felt like a warning. As if defying Lee Soo would directly lead to Haeon’s demise.

Haeon ran his tongue across his lips, lowering his gaze in thought. He felt both resentful and exasperated by Mu, who had left him with nothing but more questions. Yet, imagining himself dutifully following Lee Soo’s requests oddly soothed that irritation. Somehow, the idea of helping Lee Soo made it easier to forgive the cryptic spirit.

Chuckling quietly at his own thoughts, Haeon was startled by a small whimper from Lee Soo. He stiffened, worried he might’ve woken him. But after a moment of watching closely, he realized it was just a sleep reflex, a soft baby-like movement in slumber.

Relieved, Haeon murmured, “Thank goodness,” before hesitating briefly. Then, with a tentative motion, he patted Lee Soo’s chest. Beneath his sensitive fingertips, the faint vibrations of life—steady and warm—reassured him that Lee Soo was alive and well.

What began as an awkward, uneven rhythm gradually grew more natural with each gentle pat. Over time, Haeon’s movements became smooth, instinctive, and full of quiet care.

Lee Soo, blissfully unaware of who was patting him, simply pursed his lips and slept soundly. Breathing softly, his sleeping form was calm and peaceful—quite the contrast to the lively and talkative Lee Soo when awake. Though Yoo Haeon didn’t dislike this quiet version, he much preferred the Lee Soo who spoke softly beside him, who found joy in the smallest things and tapped his feet excitedly at the simplest pleasures.

As he gazed at the sleeping Lee Soo, Haeon found himself thinking about his preferences and chuckled without realizing it. For a while, he filled the empty room with idle murmurs, talking nonsense to the oblivious Lee Soo. Then, it hit him—he’d been smiling.

Startled by the realization that he had laughed without noticing, Haeon touched his lips, his gaze naturally drifting back to Lee Soo. The one person who was always keenly aware of Haeon’s rare smiles was none other than Lee Soo himself. Even in his sleep, it seemed like Lee Soo could tell, as a faint, lopsided grin appeared on his face.

Looking at that gentle smile with his own clear eyes, Haeon muttered softly, “What’s so amusing? Or… could it be that Hunter Ryu Leesoo likes me too?”

Yoo Haeon lightly touched Lee Soo’s pale nose, careful not to disturb his sleep, before leaning halfway onto the bed and gazing at his peaceful face. Now that he thought about it, Lee Soo’s fair complexion reminded him somewhat of Mu’s ethereal hue.

The way Lee Soo made baby-like sleep movements, or how he remained deeply asleep once he drifted off, only reinforced the comparison. Watching these childlike behaviors, Haeon couldn’t help but let out soft, airy chuckles, his amusement flowing freely as long as Lee Soo remained asleep.

The room was wrapped in stillness, shielded by layers of thick blackout curtains that allowed no light or sound to seep in. There wasn’t even a ticking clock to break the silence, only the faint glow of an electronic display.

Aside from Lee Soo’s gentle breathing, the space was deathly quiet. The silence almost became oppressive until Lee Soo let out a soft sigh and slowly opened his eyes. His long, dark lashes lifted like curtains, revealing golden irises that instantly widened in surprise at the sight of Haeon.

Those eyes seemed to ask, What’s going on? Amused, Haeon spoke in a calm, measured tone, “At first, I came to see if you’d made a decision. Somehow, we ended up taking turns sleeping on the bed.”

The matter-of-fact tone belied the absurdity of the statement, causing Lee Soo to furrow his brows briefly in confusion. Sure, even Haeon could accidentally fall asleep in someone else’s bed if he was tired enough. But… watching me sleep? That doesn’t seem like him.

Blinking slowly, still trying to process the situation, Lee Soo found himself gently pulled upright by Haeon, who grasped his wrist with surprising softness. Though Lee Soo was only halfway awake, he instinctively supported himself as Haeon helped him sit up.

Still cocooned in the blanket, Lee Soo sat dazed on the edge of the bed. Haeon, noticing his tousled hair, patiently reached out and smoothed it down. His voice, quiet yet firm, broke the silence.

“So? Your answer? I only wanted a response to my offer to help extend your lifespan. And now… I don’t even know how many hours have passed waiting for it.”

His words carried a subtle mix of expectation and weariness, making Lee Soo, still wrapped in his blanket, blink in startled realization.

“Ah… an answer. Right, I need to answer,” Lee Soo said, snapping out of his daze. “Alright, please do it. But if my vitality doesn’t recover as quickly as expected, I’ll have to ask the spirits to gather stray vitality wandering around.”

Lee Soo’s tone was unusually stern, a stark contrast to his earlier blank expression. Inside, though, he nervously fidgeted, worried that Haeon might refuse. Fortunately, Haeon nodded without hesitation.

“Let’s do that. Honestly, I was ready to be satisfied as long as Hunter Ryu Leesoo agreed to listen to me.”

Haeon’s slow, deliberate words brought a small smile to Lee Soo’s lips. He rubbed his still-sleepy eyes and mumbled, “Healer Haeon, you’re so stubborn. I never imagined you’d avoid me for days like that.”

His voice held a faint hint of exasperation, as if he was still recovering from the ordeal. Haeon only gave a wry look, as if to say, Look who’s talking. Recognizing the irony, Lee Soo chuckled softly.

“Do you always make baby-like movements in your sleep?”

Haeon suddenly asked, his hand still casually fiddling with Lee Soo’s hair. The unexpected question made Lee Soo blink in surprise, tilting his head slightly. Unsure, he gave a vague shrug, which Haeon took as a sign to drop the topic. Turning his gaze toward the curtain-shielded window, Haeon spoke again.

“If the curtains feel too stifling, you can pull them back. I usually only sleep in this room, so I keep them closed all the time.”

Lee Soo, meanwhile, tied his loosened hair into a quick bun with the hair tie on his wrist, his movements unhurried. Haeon, watching him with a quiet intensity, responded softly, “There’s no need. I’m fine with it.”

As Lee Soo casually adjusted his hair, Haeon murmured in a near-whisper, “Thank you for agreeing.”

“Aren’t I the one who should be thanking you?” Lee Soo replied with a slight smile. “After all, you’re giving up half your vitality for my sake.”

“To us healers, granting six months to someone who was supposed to die is not losing ‘half’—it’s only losing half. We don’t think of it as a loss.”

He paused, then added in a calm yet firm voice, “If I’m okay with it, then it’s okay. You don’t need to thank me. Hunter Ryu Leesoo, just focus on finding a way to survive. I’m not someone who says things I don’t mean.”

Haeon’s steady gaze seemed to pierce through Lee Soo as if to say, You know that better than anyone. Faced with those unwavering eyes, Lee Soo bit his lip.

Haeon gave him no chance to argue, which was both frustrating and endearing. In the end, every decision Haeon made was for Lee Soo’s sake, and he couldn’t help but feel grateful.

“Still, thank you,” Lee Soo said softly, his sincerity shining through.

Lee Soo scrunched up his nose in displeasure, as though annoyed by the conflicting emotions swirling within him. Even though Haeon had told him he didn’t need to say thank you, Lee Soo couldn’t ignore the gratitude he felt. With just the right amount of sincerity to avoid making it a burden, he softly expressed his thanks.

Haeon chuckled at this, his laughter filling the quiet room.

“It’s strange. When I’m with you, Hunter Ryu Leesoo, I feel more at ease than I do with anyone else.”

His slow, quiet voice carried a confession that Lee Soo hadn’t expected in the slightest. He froze for a moment, visibly startled, before his drowsiness vanished completely. Looking at Haeon with wide, clear eyes, Lee Soo finally responded.

“Me too! I feel the same way! I really like being with you, Healer Haeon.”

His gaze, which had wavered with uncertainty moments before, settled fully on Haeon. To feel a sense of salvation just from a single look—it was an almost absurd notion. Yet, Lee Soo had no other word to describe what he saw in those eyes.

“Salvation” was the most precious and meaningful word he knew.

Once again, Haeon gave the most valuable thing he had to Lee Soo without hesitation.

***

Despite the murmurs from others who criticized Lee Soo’s powers as disrespectful to the dead or even excessively cruel, those same people often worked him to the bone when it suited their needs. Because of this, nearly two weeks passed during which Haeon and Lee Soo barely saw each other.

Whenever Haeon knocked on Lee Soo’s door, it was usually one of the spirits who answered, saying Lee Soo wasn’t there. The four spirits, who often followed Lee Soo around like shadows, would take turns opening the door, giving Haeon odd, ambiguous looks but little else.

Frustrated, Haeon even lashed out at Eve, accusing her of overworking Lee Soo. But Eve only laughed and refused to give him a straight answer. After about ten visits to the guild leader’s office, Eve finally offered a single, infuriating comment.

“Oh, Hunter Ryu Leesoo? That’s all stuff the adults worked out among themselves. Our precious little baby is just watching the grown-ups work hard, earn money, and keep their promises~. And learning how to be a good little kid while they’re at it!”

Looking back, it was obvious that her words weren’t meant to explain anything but to rile him up. The memory of Eve’s smug, teasing face made Haeon furrow his brows as he strode down the hallway, heading toward Lee Soo’s room—a place he now found more familiar than his own assigned quarters.

Walking briskly without hesitation, Haeon still worried internally. What if Lee Soo isn’t there again today? For most of his life, not having close friends in the guild had never bothered him. But now, it irritated him that there was no one he could rely on to tell him whether or not Lee Soo had been called away.

The thought lingered, making him quicken his pace.