Seong-ah's breath trembled as she held his hands. She realized something strange, something terrifying yet miraculous—when her skin touched his, the eyes that looked back at her were truly Gyeonwoo's. But the moment she let go, the darkness would return, twisting him back into the spirit's control.
Her grip tightened.
"I won't let go…" she whispered, more to herself than to him.
Later that night—
The door to Seong-ah's home creaked open. She guided Gyeonwoo inside, their wrists bound together with a strip of white cloth she had quickly tied. His presence was heavy, uncertain, but the warmth of her touch kept his breathing steady.
From the inner room, her mother—the revered Mother Goddess—looked up. Her sharp eyes immediately caught sight of the cloth binding them. Her brows furrowed, her tone both stern and bewildered.
"What… is this?" she demanded, pointing at the strip that clung to their wrists. The air in the room thickened with her authority.
Seong-ah swallowed, her voice shaking. "Mom, actually… it's—"
Before she could explain, Gyeonwoo dipped his head awkwardly, his voice respectful yet laced with unease.
"Hello."
The Mother Goddess's gaze flickered, narrowing on him. She sensed the shadow within, the spirit clinging beneath his skin. Her lips tightened.
Seong-ah stepped forward, clutching the cloth as if it were the only lifeline. "I had no choice. If I let go, he changes. This… this is the only way I can keep him—keep Gyeonwoo—here with me."
The Mother Goddess's eyes shifted from her daughter's desperate face to Gyeonwoo's conflicted one. Silence hung heavy, only the faint sound of their breaths filling the space.
Finally, she exhaled, her voice low and edged with warning.
"Seong-ah… do you understand what you've done? That cloth is no ordinary bond. You've tethered his soul to yours."
Seong-ah's fingers shook, but she didn't release him. Instead, she raised her chin with quiet determination.
"I know. And I'll bear it. If that's what it takes to protect him."
Gyeonwoo turned to look at her, his eyes wide, his lips parting as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. For the first time, the spirit inside him fell utterly silent.
The night air thickened inside Seong-ah's house. Gyeonwoo sat tied firmly to a chair in the center, a long rope looped around his chest and wrists, the white cloth between him and Seong-ah glowing faintly as if resisting the spirit's pull.
Around him, the Mother Goddess, Do Ryeong, and Grandma arranged bowls of herbs, rice, and salt. The smell of incense curled through the air.
"Hold his shoulders, Seong-ah," the Mother Goddess commanded, her voice steady and firm.
"Yes, mother," Seong-ah whispered, pressing her trembling hands onto Gyeonwoo's shoulders. His breathing was uneven, sweat beading on his forehead.
Grandma began sprinkling rice in slow, rhythmic circles. The Mother Goddess muttered chants under her breath, her voice deep and commanding. Do Ryeong, dressed flamboyantly as usual, exaggerated his every movement as he waved bells and fans with dramatic flair.
At first, Gyeonwoo winced and groaned—but then, Seong-ah's grip slipped.
The instant her hands lifted away—
His head jerked up. His eyes darkened, flashing with cruel mischief. A wide smirk spread across his lips. The evil spirit had returned.
"Ahhh—finally! What's this, huh?" He looked around, mocking. "Bloody shaman witches! Trying to kick me out of this fun body? How boring."
He sneered at Grandma's stern glare, then turned to Do Ryeong—who happened to be swaying his hips while sprinkling powder with the elegance of a drama queen.
The spirit froze. Then burst out laughing.
"What the hell—ARE you even a woman?!"
Do Ryeong gasped, clutching his fan to his chest dramatically. "Excuse me?!" he shrieked, his voice higher than usual. "I happen to be BEAUTIFUL in both worlds!"
The spirit tilted his head, smirking. "Beautiful? You look like a chicken trying to wear silk."
Even Grandma couldn't stop a small cough of laughter. Seong-ah bit her lip, holding Gyeonwoo's arm tighter.
Do Ryeong fumed, stamping his foot. "How dare you insult my aura! Spirits like you should be honored to be in my presence!" He flicked his fan furiously, nearly hitting Gyeonwoo in the face.
The spirit only leaned back in the chair, grinning wickedly. "Tch. This is fun. Keep dancing, 'Miss Half-and-Half.'"
Mother Goddess slammed her palm on the table, silencing everyone. "ENOUGH. Stop bickering. This isn't a performance!"
Do Ryeong pouted dramatically but obeyed. The ritual resumed—though the spirit still chuckled under his breath, eyes glinting with mischief every time Do Ryeong moved flamboyantly.
---
The leaves swished again and again, droplets flying like little arrows of light. At first, the spirit leaned back, laughing, his bound body jerking in mock joy.
"Bath time with the witches!" he sang in a mocking tone, wiggling his shoulders as if enjoying the splashes. "Do you also scrub backs? Maybe sing me a lullaby?"
Do Ryeong's jaw tightened, veins pulsing in his temple. "Mock all you want, ghost. This water is blessed. It will burn your corruption away."
"Burn?" The spirit smirked, arching an eyebrow. "I only feel tickled." He licked a drop of water that slid down his jaw, eyes glinting. "Mmm… tastes like mountain spring. Are you sure it's holy?"
Seong-ah's fingers trembled on his shoulders. She pressed harder, trying to ground him, her voice low. "Don't fight this, Gyeonwoo… please…"
At her touch, for a flicker of a second, the mocking eyes softened—like the real Gyeonwoo peeking through. But as she loosened her grip in surprise, the spirit surged back, his laughter louder.
"Ahhh, so that's the trick!" He snapped his head toward her, teeth flashing. "When you touch me, he wakes up. When you let go, I'm free. Hah… you're the chain, little shaman."
Mother Goddess, who had been quietly chanting under her breath, lifted her gaze sharply. "Do not let go of him, Seong-ah. Your bond is his anchor."
The spirit groaned, jerking violently against the ropes now, his playful demeanor beginning to crack. The chair legs scraped loudly against the wooden floor. The laughter that once rang smooth now came in bursts, guttural and strained.
"Stop it… stop this!" His voice deepened, echoing unnaturally, rattling the bowls of rice on the altar. "I told you—I'm not an evil spirit! I am Gyeonwoo!"
"Liar!" Do Ryeong shouted, shaking the leaf so hard that a wave of water drenched the spirit's chest.
That time, the spirit hissed sharply, his skin steaming faintly where the drops landed. His smile collapsed into a grimace.
The room chilled instantly, the candle flames snapping tall and blue. Shadows curled like claws on the walls.
The spirit lowered his head, his wet hair veiling his face, his breaths heavy and uneven.
"…If you keep this up," he rasped, his voice now darker, layered with something inhuman, "I'll show you what I really am."
The air vibrated, the ropes straining as if about to tear.
Seong-ah's heart pounded. She held tighter to his shoulders, voice cracking. "No—stay! Gyeonwoo, hear me! Don't let him win!"
And for a split second, his hands—bound tightly in white cloth—shook violently… one twitching as though it wanted to reach for her.
The ritual circle was now littered with bowls—rice, sacred water, incense, and now… dough. Thick, sticky lumps of it slapped wetly against the spirit's shoulders and chest as Do Ryeong and the grandma flung them with determined precision.
The spirit blinked, then licked a piece that slid to the corner of his lips. His face lit up in exaggerated delight.
"Wow… chewy!" he exclaimed, smacking his lips. "Is this rice dough? You witches sure know how to treat a guest! First a nice bath, now snacks—what's next, a feast?"
Grandma glared, sweat dripping from her brow. "Stop mocking us, spirit! This is to bind you!"
"Bind me? Ha!" He leaned his head forward, catching another falling piece of dough with his tongue like a mischievous child. "Mmm, I'm starting to like this ritual. Do you have kimchi too?"
Do Ryeong nearly snapped the fan in his hand. "This isn't a restaurant!" he roared, shoving another clump of dough right onto the spirit's forehead.
The spirit grinned widely, crossing his eyes to look at the dough slowly sliding down between them. "Ohhh! A face mask too? You people are full service! Spa, food, and entertainment!"
Seong-ah tried not to, but her lips twitched. She pressed her hand tighter on his shoulder to keep him from jerking, whispering urgently. "Stop laughing… please, Gyeonwoo… just for once, stop."
For the briefest moment, the spirit's eyes softened again when he heard her voice—like Gyeonwoo was almost surfacing. But then Do Ryeong hurled another wad of sticky dough straight at his mouth.
"Mmph!" He blinked, chewing through it noisily, then gave a thumbs-up. "Not bad. Needs salt though."
Mother Goddess slammed her staff to the floor with a sharp thud, the room vibrating. "Enough of this nonsense! He's resisting the purification by mocking us. Double the offerings—make him choke on them if you must!"
The spirit's grin faltered just slightly at her voice—eyes flickering with something darker, something ancient.
"Careful, Goddess," he drawled, spitting out a piece of dough. "If you keep pushing, you'll regret what wakes up inside me."
The laughter returned, but lower, more guttural, rumbling in the air like thunder.
The shadows in the room deepened again, candles flickering wildly. The bowls rattled on the table.
Seong-ah's hand shook as she clutched him, whispering only for him, tears brimming. "No matter what you say… you're still Gyeonwoo. And I'll keep holding on."
For a split second—the grin slipped. His bound fists trembled as though trying to reach her, dough sliding from his jaw to the floor.
Seong-ah's arms locked tightly around his waist, her body trembling against his back. Tears wet the fabric of his shirt as she whispered,
"Don't run away, Gyeonwoo. It's enough… we're all exhausted from protecting you, and you just keep making it harder."
The spirit chuckled faintly, ready to mock her weakness—but the moment her cheek pressed against him and her fingers dug into his chest, something shifted.
His glowing, menacing eyes flickered once. Twice.
Then—like a candle flame suddenly extinguished—the spirit's smirk vanished. His entire body jerked forward, shuddering. The eerie aura that clung to him like a second skin dissolved into thin air.
Seong-ah gasped as the weight in her arms suddenly felt lighter, warmer. When she looked up, her tears blurred her vision—but through them, she saw his eyes.
Not glowing. Not cruel. Just… Gyeonwoo's eyes. Clear, human, confused.
"Seong-ah…?" His voice cracked, soft and startled, as if waking from a long dream.
Her lips parted, trembling. "Gyeonwoo…"
He turned his head slightly, meeting her gaze with disbelief. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and his hand shakily covered hers where it rested over his heartbeat. "It's… me. I'm… back."
Do Ryeong, the Mother Goddess, and Grandma froze mid-ritual. The rice in their hands scattered soundlessly to the floor, their chants dying on their lips as they watched in awe.
"It can't be…" Grandma whispered, her eyes wide. "The spirit withdrew… just from her touch?"
But Seong-ah didn't care about the astonished voices behind her. She only clung tighter, her tears flowing freely now. "You came back to me…" she whispered, smiling through her sobs.
And for the first time since the curse began, Gyeonwoo's arms wrapped around her, holding her just as tightly—his warmth proof that he was truly there.
Gyeonwoo's arms trembled as he held her, his voice unsteady.
"Seong-ah… what's happening to me? One moment I'm here… the next, it's like I'm watching someone else live inside my body. I can't control it…"
Seong-ah shook her head, clutching him tighter as if letting go would make him vanish again.
"You don't have to control it alone. As long as I'm here… I'll bring you back every time. Just—don't push me away."
His brows furrowed, guilt clouding his face. "I… hurt people, didn't I?"
Her lips quivered, but she gently shook her head. "It wasn't you. It was the spirit."
Do Ryeong stepped forward, arms folded, her sharp eyes glinting. "Yet, it was inside him. That spirit isn't leaving easily. He's clever, he's mocking us—and he's dangerous."
Gyeonwoo flinched at her words, lowering his head. "Dangerous… because of me."
"No." Seong-ah cupped his face, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Not because of you. Because of what's been forced on you. You're still Gyeonwoo. My Gyeonwoo."
His eyes widened at her words, his throat tightening. "…Your… Gyeonwoo?"
Her cheeks flushed, but she didn't look away. "I don't care if people call you cursed. I don't care if protecting you makes me unlucky. You're my first love, and I'll protect you—even if the world stands against it."
The room fell silent. The Mother Goddess exchanged a startled glance with Grandma, while Do Ryeong muttered under her breath, "That stubborn girl…"
For the first time, a faint, hesitant smile touched Gyeonwoo's lips. He swallowed hard. "…Seong-ah… you're really saying… you love me?"
Her grip on his face tightened, her tears shining like stars. "Yes. I love you, Gyeonwoo."
Behind them, a faint whisper echoed—low, mocking, and filled with resentment.
"Love? Hah. Let's see how long that lasts."
Gyeonwoo stiffened, realizing the spirit was still inside him… just quiet, biding its time.
Later that night, the Mother Goddess guided them toward Seong-ah's room. The faint smell of incense still lingered in the air, heavy and protective. As they stepped inside, the Goddess pulled out a long, white cloth and without hesitation tied Gyeonwoo's wrist firmly to Seong-ah's.
"There," she muttered, pulling the knot tight. "If he tries to slip away, you'll know instantly."
Gyeonwoo looked down at their bound hands, his ears turning red. "Is… this really necessary?"
The Mother Goddess narrowed her eyes, glaring at him like a hawk. "Absolutely. That spirit inside you is slippery. If you try something odd, boy—" she raised her fist threateningly, "—I'll beat the shit out of you, understand?"
Gyeonwoo flinched and nodded rapidly, "Y-yes, ma'am! I'll behave."
Seong-ah tried to stifle a laugh at his expression, her lips curling into a small smile. "You'd better listen. She doesn't bluff."
The Mother Goddess smirked in satisfaction and patted Seong-ah's head. "Good girl. Keep your eyes on him. Don't trust that sweet face too much."
As the Goddess closed the door behind her, silence filled the room. The candlelight flickered, casting warm shadows across their faces. Gyeonwoo shifted awkwardly, scratching his neck with his free hand.
"…This is… embarrassing," he muttered, avoiding her gaze.
Seong-ah tilted her head, her voice soft but teasing. "Embarrassing? Why? Afraid of being tied to me?"
His eyes widened slightly. "N-no! It's not that. It's just… this is the first time I've ever… uh… shared a room with a girl." His voice trailed off, low and uncertain.
Her cheeks warmed, but she didn't let go of his hand. "Then you'll just have to get used to it. Because until that spirit is gone… you're stuck with me, Gyeonwoo."
For a moment, he finally looked at her—really looked—and his chest tightened. The way her hair framed her face, the determination in her eyes, the warmth of her hand holding his… it was almost enough to make him forget the spirit lurking inside.
"…Seong-ah," he whispered, almost too softly, "thank you… for not giving up on me."
Outside Seong-ah's room, Do Ryeong had found the tiniest gap in the sliding door and was peeking through with all the subtlety of a nosy cat. His chin rested on his palm, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he watched the two young ones talking in low, soft voices.
"Aigoo~ look at him," Do Ryeong whispered dramatically. "That boy acts so cold in front of us, but with her? He's like a shy little rabbit."
The Mother Goddess, standing behind him, rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. "Tch. Shameless. They're tied together for safety, not romance. Don't start your nonsense."
But Do Ryeong snickered, pointing a finger toward the door crack. "Nonsense? Just look at how close they're sitting! He's practically leaning into her. Hah! He thinks he's subtle."
Grandma, sitting nearby and knitting calmly, tried to hide her smile. "Shh, lower your voice. If they hear you, it will embarrass them."
"Embarrass? That's the fun part!" Do Ryeong teased, chuckling. "Ah, young love. I knew it~ I told you Seong-ah's heart was already stolen."
The Mother Goddess crossed her arms, glaring down at him. "You're worse than a gossiping old lady."
Inside the room, completely unaware of the trio eavesdropping, Seong-ah and Gyeonwoo were still speaking softly.
"…It must have been lonely," Seong-ah said, her eyes searching his. "Carrying someone else inside you all this time."
Gyeonwoo gave a small nod, his voice husky. "I didn't realize how heavy it was until you… held my hand." He hesitated, glancing down at their wrists bound together by the white cloth. "…It feels like I can breathe again."
Her lips curved into a gentle smile. "Then keep breathing. As long as I'm here, I'll never let you suffocate."
Outside, Do Ryeong clasped his hands together like a swooning maiden. "Ooooh, did you hear that? She's confessing! She's totally confessing!"
The Mother Goddess smacked the back of his head. "Shut it before I tie you to the chair instead."
The incense smoke swirled thick in the air as the ritual began. The Mother Goddess sprinkled sacred rice in circles, Do Ryeong swung his bell with loud clinks, and Grandma muttered protective chants.
The spirit inside Gyeonwoo thrashed against the ropes, eyes glowing faintly, a twisted grin on his face.
"You pathetic witches!" he bellowed, straining forward. "Do you think a few grains of rice and mumbling words will scare me? I've seen blood rivers, I've walked battlefields where your gods never dared to step!"
He spat toward the floor, laughter rattling in his chest. "All this—" he jerked his chin at the talismans around him—"is nothing but paper toys!"
Do Ryeong's nostrils flared. "Toys? You dare mock the divine arts?!" He lifted his bell higher, shaking it violently.
But the spirit only laughed harder, voice cracking the air. "You're clowns dressed in holy rags! Look at you—ringing bells, sprinkling leaves. Do you want me to clap for your little play?"
The Mother Goddess slammed her staff down, her face tightening with anger. The candles flickered dangerously.
Before the spirit could hurl another insult, Seong-ah rushed forward, hands trembling as she grabbed his face between her palms.
"Stop it!" she cried. Her forehead pressed against his, her voice breaking. "Don't curse them—don't curse anyone! Gyeonwoo, listen to me… I know you're in there. Come back. Please…"
The moment her skin touched him, the change was immediate. His body jerked once, his laughter choking in his throat. His mocking gaze softened, the wild grin fading into confusion.
"Seong… ah?" His voice, now Gyeonwoo's own, cracked as though waking from a dream. His bound hands twitched against the ropes, aching to reach for her.
Everyone froze—the chanting stopped, the bells went still. Even the flames seemed to hold their breath.
The Mother Goddess exhaled, muttering under her breath, "So it's true… only her touch anchors him."
The whole night their hands stayed tied together. At first Gyeonwoo thought it would be unbearable, but when he woke up in the middle of the night and saw Seong-ah's face so close, soft hair falling across her cheek, his chest thumped loudly. He swallowed hard, quickly turning his gaze away, but the pounding of his heart refused to calm. Why does she look like this even while sleeping…
Morning light crept through the window. Seong-ah stirred, blinking sleepily. The first thing she noticed was the loosened knot around her wrist. Her heart skipped. She turned—only to find the space beside her empty.
Her eyes widened. "What the—?!" She shot up, frantically scanning the room. "No, no, no—don't tell me he—" She glanced at the open window, hair standing on end. "Shit. He escaped."
She grabbed her robe, muttering under her breath, "I swear if that idiot causes trouble again—"
Meanwhile…
At the small shrine house, Do Ryeong stormed in, looking for his ritual clothes. His face froze. The hanger was empty. His special hanbok was gone.
Cut to the street.
Gyeonwoo strutted down the lane in Do Ryeong's elegant, traditional outfit, the long sleeves flowing dramatically as if he were on a fashion runway. His chin was slightly raised, eyes sharp with mischief. Every step was exaggerated, full of flair. Villagers turned their heads, whispering.
"Isn't that the shaman's clothes…?"
"Why is that boy wearing it like he's in a fashion show?"
"He looks… weirdly good though."
Gyeonwoo smirked, flicking his sleeve back as if posing. "School, here I come. Today's stage is mine."
Behind him, Do Ryeong came running, hair half-tied, looking furious. "YAH! THAT'S MY HANBOK, YOU LITTLE—!"
The school gate was already buzzing with students when suddenly heads started to turn.
"Wha… what the heck—?"
"Isn't that… Gyeonwoo?!"
"Wait, what's he wearing?!"
There he was—striding through the gates in Do Ryeong's flowing hanbok, sleeves fluttering like banners in the wind, chin tilted proudly as though he were walking Paris Fashion Week instead of a high school yard. He even paused at the steps, giving a slow dramatic turn, letting the sunlight glint across the embroidered patterns.
The crowd broke into laughter.
"Pfft—he looks like a historical drama extra!"
"No, no, more like… a bride that ran away from her wedding!"
"Is he seriously wearing eyeliner?!"
Gyeonwoo smirked, clearly enjoying the attention. "Bow down, peasants. Today, I am not just a student—I am art."
Just then—
"GYEOONWOOOOO!"
A furious shout shook the schoolyard. Everyone turned just in time to see Seong-ah storming in, her wrist still tied loosely with the ritual cloth, hair flying, eyes blazing murder. Behind her, Do Ryeong was running, half out of breath, still shouting, "MY HANBOK! GIVE IT BACK!"
Gyeonwoo's confident stride faltered. His smirk wavered. "Uh-oh…"
Seong-ah marched straight toward him, students parting like the Red Sea. She grabbed his sleeve, yanking him down to her height. "You…!" She clenched her jaw, whispering through gritted teeth, "Do you enjoy making my life harder?!"
Gyeonwoo leaned in with his usual cheeky grin. "Honestly? A little."
Her fist clenched. For a second, everyone thought she'd punch him. Instead, she yanked him forward, tying her ritual cloth back around their wrists in front of the whole school. "You're not leaving my side. EVER."
The entire schoolyard gasped.
"Wait… are they… tied together?!"
"Omg, is this some new couple trend?"
"Seong-ah… tied herself to him?!?!"
Gyeonwoo just smirked, leaning close to her ear, teasing in a low voice only she could hear: "Guess we're officially dating now, huh?"
Her face flared red. "Shut up before I actually kill you."
Still hand-tied to Seong-ah, Gyeonwoo swaggered his way into the archery materials room, dragging her along. The smell of polished wood and resin filled the air, arrows neatly lined against the racks.
The coach, a tall, broad-shouldered man with sharp eyes, turned at the sound of footsteps—only to freeze when he saw the sight.
"…Gyeonwoo?" The coach blinked twice. "What in heaven's name are you wearing?!"
There he was, still in Do Ryeong's stolen hanbok, sleeves trailing, looking more like a nobleman from a historical drama than an athlete.
Gyeonwoo raised his chin. "I call it… elegance."
The coach sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. "Elegance won't help you draw a bow. Take that ridiculous thing off." He disappeared into the storage rack, returning with a folded special archery uniform—white satin fabric with thin, elegant blue lines running down the sleeves and chest, glowing faintly under the light.
"This is tradition. Discipline. Respect," the coach said, pressing the folded uniform into Gyeonwoo's hands. "Not whatever circus you're trying to put on."
Seong-ah eyed the uniform. It shimmered softly, almost unnaturally, as if it wasn't just cloth but something infused with energy. Her brows furrowed—this wasn't an ordinary sports uniform.
Gyeonwoo, however, was grinning. "Satin? Blue lines? Fancy. I'll look amazing."
The coach gave him a firm look. "It's not about looks. This uniform chooses who wears it. Only true archers with spirit can carry it. If you put it on lightly…" His eyes narrowed. "…it will reject you."
The room grew heavier at those words.
Gyeonwoo smirked, glancing at Seong-ah. "Reject me? Please. Clothes love me." He began slipping out of Do Ryeong's hanbok right then and there, completely unfazed by the stunned Seong-ah yanking on the ritual cloth, hissing: "Yaah! Not in front of people!!"
The coach coughed, turning away. "At least use the changing curtain, idiot."
But as Gyeonwoo touched the satin uniform, a strange chill ran through his body. For just a second—his reflection in the glass cabinet wasn't himself. It was the spirit inside him, smirking back with hungry eyes.
The training grounds echoed with the crisp snap of bowstrings. Sunlight poured in through the tall windows, highlighting the rows of targets at the far end. The coach's whistle pierced the air as students released their arrows one by one.
Among them stood Gyeonwoo, but something was different. His stance was sharper, more confident, his smirk wider. It wasn't Gyeonwoo—it was the evil spirit inside him, relishing the bow in his grip.
"Ahh… finally, something fun," the spirit muttered through his lips. He drew the bowstring with unnatural strength, the arrow whistling across the hall and piercing dead center on the target. Gasps broke out among the students.
"Unbelievable… first try?" the coach muttered in awe.
Meanwhile, outside the training hall, Seong-ah was pacing nervously, clutching the loose ritual cloth. "Where did he disappear now…? He's supposed to be with me!" Her eyes darted around until she spotted a familiar face—Jiho.
She rushed to him. "Jiho-ya! Did you see Gyeonwoo?"
Jiho blinked, scratching the back of his neck. "Why are you always asking about him the moment you see me? Can't you at least say hello first?"
Seong-ah shot him an impatient glare. "This isn't the time! Just tell me where he is."
Before Jiho could answer, a loud thunk! rang from inside the hall. Curious, Jiho stepped in—only to find Gyeonwoo in the middle of the archery line, drawing another bow with perfect ease, his aura radiating danger.
"Yah, Gyeonwoo! What are you—" Jiho called out, walking closer.
But Gyeonwoo's smirk darkened. Without warning, he spun, lifted his foot, and kicked Jiho square in the chest.
"Ugh!" Jiho groaned as he crashed onto the wooden floor, rolling until he hit the mats. The room gasped, students frozen in shock.
The spirit chuckled inside Gyeonwoo's voice. "Don't get in my way, kid."
Before anyone could react, he dropped the bow and bolted out of the hall, swift as a shadow.
Moments later, Seong-ah arrived, panting. Her eyes fell on Jiho sprawled on the ground, wincing in pain. "Jiho! Where is he?!" she demanded, crouching down.
Jiho clutched his side dramatically. "Aish… do you ever care about me? I'm lying here half-dead, and you're still asking about him?"
"Yaah!" Seong-ah snapped, slapping his arm lightly. "Stop exaggerating! Just tell me where he went!"
Jiho groaned louder, rolling his eyes. "Unbelievable. I get kicked into next week, and you're still chasing that lunatic."
Seong-ah's face tightened in worry. She glanced at the empty doorway where Gyeonwoo had run. This isn't just him anymore… it's the spirit taking over.