A Clear, Bright Spirit
Two days after Yu-won's hospital visit, Yu-yeong sat staring blankly at her laptop screen.
“Ah.”
It was footage of Yu-won performing on stage. Apparently filmed just that morning — and there, hooked at the waist of the dancing Yu-won, was the black ball cap.
Just as Cha-mu had said, it wouldn't be passed down for generations, but it looked like it would hold for at least a few years.
I took this from you. I'm sorry. I wanted to give it back.
“Whoa! Actually, I was just about to ask for it back, you know. I really treasure this one.”
“Really?”
“Yes, a fan gave it to me right when I started getting popular, and…”
As he spoke, Yu-won turned the cap inside out to show her. Embroidered there was his birth flower and his name. You could call it childish, maybe, but Yu-won treasured that cap with complete sincerity.
“It's not machine-made — the fan embroidered it by hand. Isn't that incredible? That's why it's my absolute favorite.”
At his words, Yu-yeong felt a genuine pang of remorse — not only had she worn someone's most precious cap, she'd thrown it into the street afterward.
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't be. Thank you for returning it, noona.”
Yu-won said it with a face full of honest delight.
Yu-yeong found herself thinking that she hoped the yeong-ga could see him like this, right now.
If she'd seen it with her own eyes, she would have left truly, truly happy.
She watched the video for a long while before closing the laptop with a smile on her face. The bruise hadn't fully settled yet, and every twitch of her lips made her whole face throb — but somehow, her heart felt lighter.
That afternoon, Cha-mu appeared before Yu-yeong again.
She was keeping watch over the hospital room alone after Seul-a had stepped out when Cha-mu slipped in without a sound.
He carried the scent of wet earth and forest, layered under a deep, distinctive fragrance.
“D-did you go to the mountains? You smell like a mountain.”
Cha-mu didn't answer her question. Instead, he stared for a long time at the bruise settling into her cheek, his gaze as sharp as ever.
“Do you need a road manager?”
“I'm sorry?”
“I asked if you need one.”
Yu-yeong caught what he meant. He was offering to help her. He was telling her, plainly, that he would stay by her side. She nodded.
“My name.”
“Teacher Lee Cha-mu.”
“Not your teacher.”
“…Oh.”
“Just call me by my name. Banmal's fine. Whatever you like.”
“…”
“I don't know how far I'll be able to help you.”
“I — I just…”
“At the very least, I won't let useless things take over your body. That's bad for you, and just as bad for the yeong-ga trying to take it.”
Cha-mu reasoned that this matter wasn't a bond between Yu-yeong and himself alone — that it wasn't kindness meant solely for her. Not for Yu-yeong, he told himself, but for the stray spirits trying to crawl inside her body. For the ones who would commit sins over a fleeting craving and fall into hell for it — he framed his help as being for them.
“I'm not a baksu-mudang. But it's true that I serve gods.”
“Oh.”
“I perform exorcisms, and I see yeong-ga. To put it simply… I see ghosts too.”
“That must have been so hard for you…”
Huh.
At that artless remark, Cha-mu's breath caught for an instant. He'd just told her he saw ghosts, same as she did — and her response was that must have been hard? For a moment, the words simply wouldn't come.
A gentle, half-grown child.
That was how Cha-mu saw Yu-yeong.
“I haven't seen all that much, though… Then, oppa — you see everything?”
Oppa.
At that word, Cha-mu let out a rough, involuntary exhale.
What was he supposed to do with this hopelessly naive nature of hers? No wonder spirits wandered in and out of her like it was nothing.
“I'd guess it's been less exhausting for me than it is for you.”
“…”
“I perform rites, I exorcise spirits, I help yeong-ga ascend. But whether I can send that thing residing inside you to the beyond — I honestly can't say.”
Cha-mu knew with perfect clarity what he could do, and what he couldn't. And he never made empty promises.
“I just want to be a little more comfortable, like I've been these past few days.”
“If you go around with me, you definitely won't be tormented by that kind of yeong-ga anymore.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“B-but last time you said you couldn't help me. So why this time—”
“I never said I couldn't help you. I said you weren't what I needed.”
“…”
“My goal was never you. It's the yeong-ga trying to force their way into your body — I aim to send them to ascension.”
Cha-mu made it unmistakably clear to her. Not for your sake — his goal was to let the yeong-ga who tried to claim her ascend quietly, without staining themselves with sin.
By helping those spirits ascend and washing away their karmic debt, he hoped his ancestors who had already crossed into the beyond might find some ease. That was all he wanted.
“…”
“Ask me anything you're curious about.”
Yu-yeong couldn't absorb everything Cha-mu told her. He'd invited her to ask more questions, but none came to her. So she simply shook her head.
“Whatever the reason, it's all fine. And… if there's ever something I can help you with, I'd like to do it.”
“Good.”
His answer was far too short, far too flat. But to Yu-yeong, this attitude was actually far more comfortable. If he'd been a loud, dramatic sort of person, she would have been constantly reading his moods, walking on eggshells.
“If we're going to get along, there are a few rules.”
“Yes, yes!”
“Don't go to dark, unsettling places with bad energy. Not without reason.”
“Oh.”
“You seem to visit hospitals often.”
“Ah, my grandmother is in a care facility…”
“You'll go there with me.”
Cha-mu didn't bother to explain, but she had a fair idea of the reason. Yu-yeong nodded along, and Cha-mu reached into his pocket and drew out a piece of red silk cloth.
He laid it across her knees and unfolded it, revealing a five-colored thread bracelet woven within.
“Wow.”
It was genuinely beautiful — Yu-yeong couldn't take her eyes off it.
Cha-mu watched her for a moment, then slipped the bracelet he'd woven with his own hands onto her left wrist.
“With this, you'll be fine for a while, even when I'm not around.”
“Oh.”
“Keep it on during shoots too, if you can.”
“…”
“I can't do anything about whatever stays inside you, but the yeong-ga that circle around you trying to pry their way in won't be able to come near.”
“…The friend inside me seems incredibly strong.”
At her words, Cha-mu stared at her blankly for a moment before nodding. She wasn't wrong. That thing — so formless he couldn't even make out its shape — was clearly no ordinary yeong-ga.
Something immense. Or something special.
And that special something revealed no presence at all except when she was acting. Ordinarily, when beings like it encountered another of their kind — someone like him — they'd bare themselves and bristle with hostility. Whether it was even residing inside her was impossible to tell; it was that quiet.
For a moment he'd even wondered if it might be schizophrenia or dissociative identity disorder, but Cha-mu could see it plainly: Yu-yeong's vessel was shattered, and pure, clean energy leaked out through the cracks. That was what drew the stray spirits to her — they came to scavenge what spilled from her.
“Well, it doesn't seem to be a malicious demon, so we'll take our time and figure it out.”
It was all he could say. Whatever crouched inside her, if it were a demon whose aim was to steal her body completely, it would have seized her long ago. At least, that wasn't how it looked to Cha-mu's eyes.
Yu-yeong nodded at his words.
“This is, it's my first time.”
“…”
“Having someone who understands my situation.”
At her confession, the crease between Cha-mu's brows deepened slightly. He could understand it. With her temperament, there was no way she'd ever gone to a shaman's shrine, and it was obvious she'd never been able to bare her circumstances to anyone close to her either.
“It feels like a miracle. So…”
“…”
Cha-mu started to say something, then pressed his mouth shut. If the thing dwelling in your body were evil, you'd be dead by now — you'd have dropped dead long ago. He swallowed the words before they could escape.
“Oh, but — that child, um…”
“Yes?”
“Wh-where did she go?”
“To my house.”
As he said it, Cha-mu pictured the child sprawled on the main floor of his home. For three days straight she'd sung nothing but grapes, grapes, raving about how delicious the grapes she'd eaten inside Yu-yeong's body were.
Remembering it almost made him laugh.
“She's the one who helped me. Otherwise I couldn't have made it up here at all.”
“Could you tell her thank you, for me—”
“Tell her yourself.”
“…”
“I'll bring her by sometime.”
At his careless answer, Yu-yeong nodded. Then she looked up at him, studying his face.
She couldn't see the child clearly the way Cha-mu could, but she had a rough guess as to who it was.
“That girl — she's the one in the yellow dress, right?”
“Yes.”
“I saw her at my grandmother's hospital… She probably attached herself to me there.”
“Ah.”
Only now did Cha-mu remember the smell of antiseptic that had clung to the child's mouth.
“That would explain it. She did smell like a hospital.”
“I didn't know she was a… a yeong-ga. She came up and talked to me, so I just assumed she'd come with her parents.”
“A yeong-ga with no sins appears vivid and clear.”
“Oh…”
“Die carrying enough sin, and even the spirit grows blurry.”
At Cha-mu's explanation, Yu-yeong finally recalled the child's face in the hospital corridor. The girl who had told her not to cry had been vivid and clear — so pure it was hard to believe she was a ghost at all.