INV 86

Even during all of that, the yōkai—white and soft like a sticky rice cake—remained huddled, clinging tightly to the scruff of Kwon Yihyeon’s neck.

Thinking that even for a yōkai, it certainly knew how to recognize a means of survival, Gwak Deukcheon let out a hollow laugh in disbelief.

“Hey! You punk. Do you have any idea how much I’ve cared for and looked after you like a Bodhisattva! Even if I were to do something crazy, you should be at a point where you comply, thinking there must be some good intention hidden behind it—and yet you draw your sword against me?!”

“You’re recklessly swinging your blade first, so are you telling me to just stand there and take it? I can’t live like that. If you’re going to stab me with a sword, give me a reason!”

“If I give you a reason, will you stop blocking me?”

“If it’s a reason I can accept, then yes!”

At that, Gwak Deukcheon let out a sharp “Ha!” and finally began to sneer violently.

“That thing… it’s a yōkai that doesn’t exist in the Catalog of All Phantom Phenomena.”

Kwon Yihyeon did not understand those words at first.

However, a thunderous shout poured down.

“There is no such yōkai in this world! I said there isn’t!”

“…”

“And yet it follows you of all people? A yōkai that never even existed in this world follows the contractor of Jae Angshin, of all people?”

The agitated voice resonated as if striking his head. He could no longer pretend not to know. Ever since he realized he could use the abilities of those he came into contact with, Kwon Yihyeon had also begun to suspect that he might even be able to steal the power of “Jae Angshin.”

Therefore, this yōkai burrowing into his embrace might be proof that Kwon Yihyeon is a being capable of encroaching upon the power of “Calamity.”

“You… do you have the guts to handle this?”

At that moment, fluorescent green eyes, looking as if they would pierce through every forbidden taboo, sang of a murky unrest.

A terrible truth resembling a swamp, so kind it felt like it would suffocate him.

As if telling him to face it, not to look away.

As if telling him to look closely at the curse that had befallen him.

However, unlike his fierce gaze, the words flowing from Gwak Deukcheon were incredibly warm…

“If you can’t, then move aside. Just kill it. Escape. Look away. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“…But.”

Nevertheless, Kwon Yihyeon hesitated.

Is it okay to escape like this?

He didn’t know. He felt like he shouldn’t escape when he didn’t even know what he was escaping from. He didn’t know what he was supposed to know, but he felt as though there was something here that must never be forgotten.

It was then.

“That’s right, Kwon Yihyeon. You haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just that the yōkai was drawn to the scent of my body.”

A supple voice drifted in from somewhere along with a hint of laughter. It was Chacha. Chacha, he had come.

It was only that, yet for some unknown reason, Kwon Yihyeon wanted to cry.

Gwak Deukcheon still did not back down, however…

“Excuse me, but I am under the impression that just because there is a contract relationship, it doesn’t mean the affinity toward one’s own kind is shared.”

“Like I said, the contract isn’t the problem; it’s the body scent.”

“Could I ask for a further explanation?”

“We are in a relationship where we share our skin, aren’t we?”

“…So our scents mixed, and you’re saying the yōkai being tamed was just a happening that occurred because of that? Even the sudden appearance of a yōkai that wasn’t even in the Catalog of All Phantom Phenomena?”

“Exactly. That’s all it is.”

Chacha’s explanation was as simple as could be.

And the thing that dug fragrantly into the tip of his nose, as if to melt his brain, was none other than the scent of sweet osmanthus…

‘Why did Chacha become Jae Angshin?’

Since when did you start being called Jae Angshin…?

“Then, can I take my husband now?”

Ah, his head felt like it was tumbling around; he felt so terribly ecstatic he could almost vomit.

⋆˙⟡

When they decided to return home, Kwon Yihyeon was confused and wanted to walk. Chacha, knowing Kwon Yihyeon’s heart, did not move via sorcery. He gave Kwon Yihyeon the chance to stand up on his own feet and step into his own world.

In the evening when the sunset stretched out like blood, while crossing a red-stained pedestrian overpass on the way home, the two of them spoke.

“…Why are you called Jae Angshin? For what reason?”

Kwon Yihyeon was surprised at himself for being reluctant to call the name. Even the name Chacha left a scratchy sensation in his mouth. Even though he had decided to call him Chacha as a name from now on, he couldn’t understand why he felt such resistance.

“If there is a reason, what would change…?”

Chacha answered ambiguously and strangely. Kwon Yihyeon instinctively noticed that all truth dwelt within that answer. However, he could not verbalize anything. The clues Kwon Yihyeon held were too insufficient and the truth was too enormous. To the point where he couldn’t piece them together no matter how he tried.

Still, Kwon Yihyeon knew this much.

“Everything changes.”

The one thing he knew was that if there was a reason for Jae Angshin, everything would change.

“That’s a relief. Since there is nothing that will change.”

A terribly detached face, a suspicious yet sharp smile.

Chacha only smiled today as well. As always, with a bloodless, pale face, he took in the evening glow to his heart’s content.

He only pulled his blood-red lips into a slant.

And yet, Kwon Yihyeon discovered a difference in that same face.

‘If it’s nothing, why do you make that kind of expression…?’

Was he able to read this expression because Kwon Yihyeon had been obsessively observing Chacha all this time? Or if not, is the moment he ended up seeing “this expression” hiding somewhere in his mind that he cannot remember?

We do not know why Chacha became Jae Angshin. No one knows. That is why he asks.

‘If I come to know that, will I…’

Be allowed to love you?

A soft, bubbling emotion blooming at an untimely hour. A sentimental sunset. Brimming footsteps. Feelings like bubbles.

Something he hasn’t been able to name “love” yet.

Nevertheless, the person who cannot help but be his love is smiling.

“Haha…”

Kwon Yihyeon began to wish that all of this was a dream instead.

Because if it were a dream, he would never have to wake up.

⋆˙⟡

After returning home, they kissed and rolled around for a while. As if trying to fill a deficiency, Kwon Yihyeon craved Chacha. He clung to him, and he made Chacha cling to him.

A long while later, Kwon Yihyeon went into the bathroom to wash up.

While the sounds of water were heard, Chacha was looking down at the yōkai held in his palm.

Chacha had brought the yōkai, which had been shivering and sticking to Kwon Yihyeon, to their home.

Kwon Yihyeon likely took it as an intention to raise it, but unfortunately, Chacha had no such plan.

It wasn’t that he didn’t feel sorry for the yōkai. Rather, he pitied it more than anything else existing in this world.

A gaze so sorry it was sorrowful was aimed at the yōkai.

“Pitiable thing…”

However, just because he was pitiable, would Chacha’s essence cease to be a calamity?

The calamity opened his lips.

And he bowed his head.

“It won’t hurt.”

The next moment, the lamp flickered. The shadow of Jae Angshin swelled up, swallowing the yōkai. The window shook as if hit by a typhoon, and then everything became quiet. There isn’t even the sound of grass insects. Nothing can be heard. The sound of the yōkai whimpering is, no longer, there.

Chacha straightens his back. He looks down at his empty hand. There is no one there. Nothing.

However, behind the double doors.

“You saw it, right?”

“…”

“Kwon Yihyeon.”

There is. A person, there is. A person who can breathe and see ahead is holding his breath, frozen stiff.

Looking at him, the red eyes smile brightly.

Kwon Yihyeon, hidden behind the double doors, cannot take his hand away from where it covers his mouth. He can’t even breathe properly, yet he cannot run away. It feels like his legs are tied. What did I see? What on earth did I see? What did I.

‘Did you eat it?’

It must be an illusion. Kwon Yihyeon thinks paroxysmally. I must have seen it wrong. Why would Chacha do such a thing.

Chacha, the Chacha I know, is.

Jae Angshin…

“Oh dear. You must have been surprised.”

The calamity’s voice is extremely sweet. Perhaps it is steeped in pity. The lips that swallowed a living life are gently brushed by the scattering moonlight, shining faintly.

A detached attitude, as if he thinks nothing of what just happened. A face as if it’s no big deal. An aspect of worrying not for the dead yōkai, but only for Kwon Yihyeon who must have been shocked witnessing the sight.

Kwon Yihyeon felt a sense of horror at that very point instead.

If Chacha had felt guilty, or, if his heart had ached, Kwon Yihyeon would have asked Chacha for the reason.

But Chacha felt no remorse right now.

That very appearance—of considering only the emotions of the person he loves, like a monster wearing a human skin.

That is what makes Kwon Yihyeon’s blood run cold.

“There is still the night left.”

“…”

“Have sweet dreams.”

The lamp is extinguished, and the terribly lovely and alluring voice moves away.

What should I do? Should I catch him?

Do I have the right to catch him?

Kwon Yihyeon becomes unable to know anything anymore.