SMFC | Chapter 22

It wasn’t that failing to find Lee Soo bothered Haeon; truly, it didn’t. The problem, if there was one, lay in the tiny sliver of hope he couldn’t help but carry each time he walked toward Lee Soo’s door. He’ll be here today. And every time he wasn’t, disappointment inevitably followed, no matter how prepared Haeon thought he was.

It was ridiculous, he knew, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Haeon rubbed his cheeks a couple of times, trying to shake off the lingering tension, and licked his chapped lips—a bad habit that left them ragged and raw. The faint taste of blood hit his tongue, and though it wasn’t much, it felt heavy, as though his mouth were full of it. He shuddered, instinctively healing the small wound, and knocked on the door.

There was no answer. Haeon wrestled down the disappointment and reasoned with himself: Just knock one more time. If no one answers, I’ll leave. His second knock came softer, his face slightly crestfallen, but still, no voice answered.

Suppressing a sigh, Haeon turned to leave, only to hear a familiar voice laced with curiosity.

“Healer Haeon?”

The simple call had an almost magical effect. Like a cat reacting to its long-absent owner, Haeon spun around in a hurry, his heart leaping with joy. But as soon as he met Lee Soo’s wide, blinking eyes, he smoothed his expression, trying to appear composed.

“Hunter Ryu Leesoo. I don’t know if you heard, but… I’ve been trying to find you for treatment.”

Haeon mumbled the words, almost like an excuse, before Lee Soo could even ask why he was there. Lee Soo, ever kind, replied warmly, “Is that so?”

The casual response flustered Haeon, who instinctively bit his already damaged lip before quickly remembering his resolve not to do so. He released his lip, but when his eyes met Lee Soo’s, he felt like a child caught in the act of sneaking glances. Embarrassed, his eyes darted around nervously.

Lee Soo, amused by the shy display, chuckled softly as he opened the door wider.

“The spirits told me,” he began. “Dahyun, Sian, Dajeong, and Daul mentioned running into you here often. They said you’ve been visiting frequently, so I thought I should come find you. Looks like we didn’t miss each other this time.”

The warmth in Lee Soo’s voice, so familiar yet always heartening, made Haeon nod, unable to fully hide his happiness.

“…That’s a relief.”

“You know,” Lee Soo continued as he lightly tapped the drawn-back blackout curtains, “this might happen again, so… would you like a spare key? I don’t mind giving you one if you’re okay with it. There’s nothing too important in the room, anyway.”

Sitting quietly at the table, Haeon mulled over the unexpected offer. If he had asked for a spare key first, it might’ve seemed inappropriate. But since Lee Soo brought it up, there was no harm in accepting, right? Once he reached that conclusion, Haeon nodded without hesitation.

“I’ll handle it carefully,” he said, his voice calm yet carrying a note of subdued delight that made Lee Soo pause mid-motion.

Turning to close the largest curtain, Lee Soo glanced back at Haeon, sunlight streaming through the open windows and onto the healer’s pale skin. The light made Haeon’s translucent complexion shimmer softly, and as Lee Soo’s gaze traveled upward, he saw something else—soft, pink-tinged cheeks that seemed to carry a subtle warmth.

The sunlight caressed Haeon’s face, drawing out a brilliance that left Lee Soo momentarily stunned. His eyes lingered too long, tracing the glow etched across Haeon’s cheekbones and into his eyes, where the light formed a delicate, shimmering line. It was a sight Lee Soo felt he wasn’t meant to witness, an ethereal beauty that left his heart pounding.

Quickly, Lee Soo pulled the curtains shut, hiding both the sunlight and his flustered expression. But his restless heartbeat refused to calm. Even as they discussed treatments, his chest stirred repeatedly, the sensation growing with every passing moment.

No book had ever described Haeon like this. If any of those dry, emotionless pages had captured this version of him, countless readers would have fallen in love. Lee Soo couldn’t help but think, If only someone had warned me.

***

Lee Soo cast a wary glance at Haeon, who clung to his side with an air of quiet determination, sporting a slightly haughty expression as if guarding him from the world. Ever since Lee Soo’s schedule began to ease up, Haeon seemed to have taken it as an invitation to stay close, using “treatment” as his constant excuse. While Haeon had always been by his side, even during busier times, his presence had become notably more intense.

The mere thought of Haeon often left Lee Soo’s mind in a jumble. The constant proximity made him worry he might snap at Haeon or make some mistake, so he kept his guard up, sharpening his composure as a defense.

As much as they were sticking together, Lee Soo noted how strange it was that Haeon avoided any physical contact. Pondering this, Lee Soo rubbed his temples. Ever since he had inhabited this body, headaches had been a regular companion, so he paid little mind to the dull ache. Still, the faint fever nagged at him.

Taking medicine seemed like a hassle, but ignoring it was equally annoying. Frowning, Lee Soo rubbed his forehead, and Haeon, who had been reviewing a chart nearby, carefully touched Lee Soo’s forehead.

“You have a slight fever. Who just sits still with a healer next to them when they’re not feeling well?”

“You seemed busy. I didn’t want to bother you over something so minor… It’s not a big deal.”

“Hunter Ryu Leesoo’s condition isn’t something I can dismiss as minor. Even a slight fever could be serious for you. If you’re in pain, speak up. If you want to live longer, trust your healer.”

Haeon’s calm voice carried a quiet authority that left Lee Soo awkwardly chuckling and nodding. Trying to avoid the healer’s intense gaze, Lee Soo turned his head and happened to catch sight of the calendar on the wall. The neatly stamped dates caught his eye, and the familiarity of today’s date made him tilt his head in thought.

If it wasn’t a special occasion, he wouldn’t have remembered it. Could it be something important? He racked his brain. Was it one of the main characters’ birthdays? But no, the author had never been kind enough to share such details about their characters.

Lee Soo’s momentary confusion made him blink a few times, which Haeon, seeing this, mistook as a sign of his fever. Clicking his tongue softly, Haeon placed a cool hand on Lee Soo’s forehead and neck, gently soothing his skin. The sudden drop in temperature prompted Lee Soo to glance at him.

“How does that feel now? A little better?”

“Ah, yes. Much better. Thank you for healing me and taking care of me.”

Lee Soo offered a simple but sincere expression of gratitude, trailing his fingers over his gradually cooling skin. Haeon, as if the brief thanks was more than enough, nodded with quiet satisfaction. After monitoring Lee Soo’s condition for another five minutes, confirming the fever had subsided, Haeon finally returned to his chart.

Lee Soo, intrigued by the almost mechanical speed at which Haeon flipped through the pages, watched curiously. His sharp eyes couldn’t help but drift to the pages, though not to read their content. The sheer amount of text alone was enough to make Lee Soo lean back, slightly overwhelmed.

“So, you speed-read. I knew that, but… wow, you’re faster than I thought. You just—ho-ro-rok—fly through it.”

At Lee Soo’s candid remark, Haeon paused, mouthing the word ho-ro-rok a few times before chuckling softly.

“That’s right, ho-ro-rok. I do read pretty fast. I’ve already gone through all this once before, though.”

The way Haeon emphasized the word ho-ro-rok felt like he was teasing, and Lee Soo squinted at him with a faintly annoyed expression. Haeon, unfazed, cocked an eyebrow as if to ask if there was a problem. Lowering the papers he held, he met Lee Soo’s gaze directly.

The two locked eyes for a while, the unspoken tension building until Lee Soo finally relented, breaking eye contact.

“Your eyes… are they from your maternal side of the family?”

“Probably. I think so. My hair, too,” Haeon replied calmly, effortlessly adapting to the awkward topic Lee Soo had hastily chosen to change the mood. Relieved that Haeon went along with it so easily, Lee Soo let out an inward sigh of relief, absentmindedly smoothing his own hair.

According to the novel, Lee Soo was an orphan with no way of knowing whether he resembled his mother or father more. Still, it was something he occasionally wondered about.

As Haeon gently ran his fingers through Lee Soo’s hair, his face thoughtful, he suddenly said, “Don’t you think the spirits might know?”

Lee Soo was surprised—not once, but twice. First, at how accurately Haeon seemed to read his thoughts, and second, at how comfortable he seemed using the word “spirits.” After a moment of hesitation, Lee Soo bit his lip and awkwardly called out.

“On? On, are you there?”

Of all the spirits, On was the most likely to answer such a casual question without overthinking it. Sure enough, a system notification popped up, announcing On’s summoning. Shortly after, On appeared out of thin air, holding a paintbrush as if he’d been interrupted mid-project.

[On: You called?]

“Yes. Do you happen to know if Ryu Leesoo’s hair and eye color come from his maternal side or his paternal side?”

[On: Ah, that’s what you were curious about? Hold on… Hmm… It’s been so long, my memory’s a bit hazy. But I’m pretty sure it’s all from his mother’s side.]

“Maternal side?”

[On: Yeah. Ryu Leesoo’s maternal family had black hair and golden eyes. Yeah, now I remember. It’s all maternal. Eyes, nose… Everything. I even remember joking that his mother must’ve had this kid on her own, without help from the father.]

On nodded as he spoke, and Haeon naturally began picturing a woman resembling Lee Soo. But no matter how hard he tried, he could only envision Lee Soo himself—no one else. The resemblance was so vivid that imagining anyone else seemed impossible.

As Haeon lightly licked his lips, baffled by his inability to conjure the image of anyone but Lee Soo, the latter observed him thoughtfully. Watching how close Haeon had grown to the spirits, Lee Soo decided he had to find a way to pair him with Jiwoo, the female protagonist.

What Haeon needed wasn’t a deeper bond with the spirits destined to vanish with Lee Soo. It was a lasting relationship with someone who could stay with him, someone like Jiwoo.

“…!”

While retracing the first meeting between Jiwoo and Haeon in his mind, Lee Soo suddenly remembered what was supposed to happen today. His eyes widened, and he shot to his feet in a burst of realization.