The dorm finally became peaceful once the imposing East Sea Imugi disappeared, leaving behind a profound silence that settled comfortably around them.
The previous tension, thick and almost palpable, had evaporated, replaced by a sense of calm.
Only then did Hakyung feel truly at ease, the lingering apprehension from the Imugi’s presence fully dissolving.
He allowed himself to lean into Muheon’s shoulder, seeking and finding comfort there, rubbing his forehead affectionately against the soft fabric of Muheon’s shirt.
He murmured a stream of sweet, adoring words, each one a testament to his immense relief and his rapidly growing comfort in Muheon’s presence.
Muheon’s expression, which had been unreadable and stoic moments before, softened considerably, a gentle warmth replacing its previous neutrality.
He found it immensely endearing and utterly delightful that Hakyung, despite being a grown man and certainly no helpless baby, could be so genuinely shy and openly affectionate, seeking solace and expressing his feelings with such uninhibited innocence.
It was a charming dichotomy, this blend of maturity and child-like sincerity, a quality in Hakyung that Muheon cherished deeply.
“Was it tough?”
Muheon asked, his voice was a low, gentle rumble that resonated in Hakyung’s ear.
He stroked Hakyung’s hair, his fingers tenderly threading through the strands, the simple, unspoken gesture conveying a depth of understanding and quiet concern.
Hakyung nodded in response, a faint blush creeping up his neck, a tell-tale sign of his bashfulness.
Now that he thought about it, with the immediate pressure of the Imugi gone, the intense, almost overwhelming atmosphere created by the East Sea Imugi was remarkably similar to the one he’d experienced with the boss’s Chinese friend he’d met back in Incheon.
He vividly recalled feeling utterly puzzled by the languid yet unexpectedly capricious way they spoke, an air of ancient power thinly veiled by polite, almost mundane conversation.
It was a strange mix of the ordinary and the extraordinary, leaving him with a sense of awe and slight bewilderment.
It seemed, then, that the boss himself was indeed a remarkably good-natured Imugi, or perhaps it was more accurate to say, he possessed a truly benevolent and kind Imugi personality, one that resonated deeply with Hakyung’s own gentle nature.
“Boss is the best!”
Hakyung exclaimed, his voice suddenly filled with genuine admiration, a spark of pure enthusiasm lighting his eyes.
He punctuated his heartfelt statement by giving Muheon a firm, enthusiastic thumbs-up, a gesture of utmost approval.
Receiving such unadulterated praise for doing practically nothing, at least from his perspective, felt, surprisingly, pretty good.
In fact, it felt more than just good; it felt absolutely great, a warm surge of satisfaction washing over him.
A warm, contented smile spread across Muheon’s face, mirroring Hakyung’s happiness, as he leaned down and gently kissed Hakyung’s lips.
The river dolphin, as Muheon affectionately thought of Hakyung, naturally responded to the tender touch, instinctively melting into the embrace.
Without hesitation, Hakyung wrapped his arms around Muheon’s neck, a silent invitation for more, and parted his lips slightly, deepening the connection between them.
Their sweet kiss, a moment suspended in time, oblivious to the world outside, lasted a long, languid while, filled with unspoken affection, growing intimacy, and a profound sense of shared peace.
It was only broken by the abrupt return of Gimsango, who had just come back after dutifully seeing Dokgojin off.
His sudden presence in the doorway, though entirely expected, nonetheless shattered the delicate bubble of their private moment, pulling them gently back to reality.
That evening, as the last rays of sunlight faded from the sky, casting long shadows across the room, Hakyung sat cross-legged on the floor of his room, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.
He was carefully examining the mysterious item Dokgojin had given him earlier that day.
It was a small, unassuming bottle, crafted from dark, opaque glass, yet it held a certain inexplicable gravitas, almost humming with an unseen energy.
“Is this really that good…?” he muttered to himself, his voice a whisper, barely audible in the quiet room.
Just by its color, a deep, enigmatic blue, and a peculiar, almost gelatinous viscosity that made it cling to the sides of the bottle, it seemed undeniably unusual, hinting at potent properties.
The liquid inside gleamed with an iridescent sheen that shifted subtly under the dim light, hinting at hidden properties, a secret held within its depths.
He knew, however, that appearances alone could be deceiving, and true quality often lay beyond the superficial.
The smell was also critically important, he reminded himself, his curiosity now fully piqued, a tingling sensation running through him.
With a deliberate, almost reverent gesture, as if handling something immensely precious, Hakyung carefully, slowly, opened the bottle, the gentle pop of the cork releasing whatever potent essence it contained into the air.
Sniff, sniff.
Hakyung’s nose twitched delicately as he inhaled the scent, his eyes closing in concentration, drawing the aroma deep into his lungs.
His lips then slightly parted, a look of profound surprise and delight spreading across his face, replacing his previous skepticism.
“The scent is amazing!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with an almost childlike wonder, tinged with disbelief.
Contrary to his initial worry that it might carry a pungent, unpleasant, or even fishy odor, the liquid in the bottle released a cool, refreshing scent that was unmistakably oceanic.
It was the distinct aroma of the sea, a scent he had vividly experienced during his previous visit to Muheon’s main residence, a memory that now brought a faint, contented smile to his lips, recalling the vast, calming expanse of the ocean.
Hakyung inhaled the scent a few more times, savoring it, allowing it to fill his senses.
A look of deep satisfaction settled on his features, transforming his earlier apprehension into pure contentment.
Lost in thought, completely absorbed by the discovery, he found himself rolling around on his bed, a newfound determination gripping him: he would definitely use this miraculous seaweed jelly this very week, no matter what.
It was at this precise moment of contented anticipation, as he planned his week around this newfound treasure, that his phone, lying neglected next to him on the bed, vibrated with a gentle hum, signaling an incoming call.
He glanced at the screen, a fleeting annoyance crossing his face, and saw the familiar name: Hajo.
“Oh, Hajo,” he mumbled, a mix of affection and slight exasperation coloring his tone.
The joy of the moment was briefly interrupted.
“Hyung!”
Hajo’s voice, bright and eager, almost too enthusiastic, rang through the speaker, cutting through Hakyung’s thoughts.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
Hakyung asked, sitting upright, his earlier reverie completely forgotten as Hajo launched into a rapid-fire, breathless explanation of why he had called.
Hajo had been looking into the special lectures that were scheduled to start next month and had discovered, to his delight, that he needed to register for them this week.
Hajo was relentless, his determination unwavering, refusing to back down from his insistence on attending an academy in Seoul, a dream he had harbored for a long time.
Hakyung, on the other hand, was deeply uncomfortable with the idea of his young brother studying alone in the sprawling, sometimes overwhelming, and often intimidating city of Seoul.
He also distinctly disliked the notion of his older brothers, who had their own lives, careers, and responsibilities, having to constantly look after Hajo, adding another burden to their already busy lives.
When Hakyung, ever the cautious and responsible older brother, suggested that Hajo think it over slowly, once more, perhaps reconsidering his options and weighing the pros and cons, Hajo’s voice was suddenly full of resentment, tinged with a childish whine, as he retorted, “But Hyung, you said before, didn’t you? That it’s better to try everything and regret it later! I’ll just go for a month, and if it’s too hard, I won’t go anymore. Really, okay?”
Those were the very words Hakyung had used, ironically, against himself now, to dissuade Hajo from going to a vocational high school immediately after graduation, as Hakyung himself had done, to get a job right away.
He had carefully convinced his brother, who was academically bright and excelled in studying, by saying, “Why think about learning a skill first when there’s a time for studying everything, for expanding your mind?”
Hakyung let out a short, exasperated sigh, a sound of profound regret, wishing intensely that he could reach back in time and give his past, old-fashioned, condescending self a solid smack on the head for such seemingly sage advice that had now come back to haunt him.
He couldn’t go back on his word now, not when Hajo was coming to pursue something he genuinely loved and was passionate about, something that could shape his future.
He simply couldn’t bring himself to stop him any longer.
Instead, Hakyung, resigned to the inevitable but still firm in his role as an older brother, sternly advised Hajo.
He rattled off a long, detailed list of rules and warnings: don’t be rude to anyone, always be respectful, don’t go anywhere else after the academy implying no mischievous detours or unauthorized excursions, and most importantly, focus diligently on his school studies, prioritize his education, and so on, a litany of brotherly admonishments.
Annoyed by his older brother’s endless nagging, Hajo, with a characteristic burst of impatience and a youthful desire for freedom, hung up arbitrarily, blurting out, “I get it!” before the line went dead.
“This, this brat…!”
Hakyung exclaimed, a mix of frustration and underlying affection in his voice.
But almost immediately, a slow, undeniable curve began to form on his lips as he glared, albeit affectionately, at his innocent phone, a smile spreading across his face despite himself.
Despite all the bother, despite the impending disruption to his well-laid plans for the seaweed jelly, he felt an undeniable surge of happiness that his brother was finally coming to Seoul, to be closer.
Tomorrow morning, while eating breakfast, he’d tell the boss that his brother was coming, and then…
“Ah!”
Hakyung suddenly cried out, a sound of utter devastation, the realization hitting him like a cold wave, and he dramatically flopped onto the floor, his earlier joy completely extinguished.
It was a sudden, crushing realization that had dawned upon him.
He had a powerful premonition that if his brother came this weekend, it would be incredibly difficult, if not utterly impossible, to use the precious seaweed jelly he had received as a gift from Dokgojin, his secret weapon. Indeed, the path of a big brother, he mused with a dramatic sigh, was truly long and arduous, filled with unexpected sacrifices and constant compromises.
Muheon tilted his head slightly, observing Hakyung, who had been looking unusually sulky and withdrawn since morning.
His usual cheerful demeanor was replaced by a visible gloom.
Last night, his cheeks had been flushed with excitement, and he had seemed positively buoyant, brimming with anticipation, so Muheon worried that he might not be feeling well, perhaps even coming down with something.
“Why the long face? Are you sick?”
Muheon asked, his voice laced with genuine concern, reaching out a hand to gently check Hakyung’s forehead.
“No, not that… Oh, right. Boss, Hajo said he needs to register for the academy this week.”
Hakyung explained, though his tone still carried a faint echo of his earlier gloom, unable to fully shake off his disappointment.
“Really? Alright, I’ll send the kids,” Muheon replied, his response swift and accommodating, ever practical and efficient.
He didn’t need to ask who “the kids” were; it was understood.
“Thank you,” Hakyung mumbled, but unlike his polite words of gratitude, his expression remained as sour as if he had just bitten into something incredibly unpleasant, a bitter lemon perhaps.
The corners of his mouth were turned down, and his brow remained deeply furrowed, a clear sign of his internal struggle.
Muheon, picking up on the subtle dissonance between Hakyung’s words and his demeanor, a keen observer of Hakyung’s moods, lowered his head slightly and met Hakyung’s eyes, a silent question in his gaze, urging him to elaborate.
“But?” he prompted gently, knowing there was more to the story.
“Actually,” Hakyung began, no longer able to pretend otherwise when asked so directly, the words spilling out in a rush, a full confession of his dilemma and disappointment.
He reached into his pocket and carefully took out the small, intricately embroidered lucky pouch that he had kept with such reverence, just as Dokgojin had instructed him.
He presented it to Muheon, its soft fabric concealing its precious contents.
Muheon’s eyebrows raised, a flicker of surprise and recognition in his eyes.
He instantly recognized what was inside just by the distinctive look and feel of the pouch itself, its ancient origins evident.
“Where did you get this?”
Muheon asked, his tone betraying a hint of genuine curiosity, a rare spark in his usually composed demeanor.
“Dokgojin-nim gave it to me,” Hakyung replied, his voice still a little subdued, still lamenting his impending loss of private time.
“That guy?”
Muheon let out a hollow, almost disbelieving laugh, a sound of wry amusement.
He didn’t care about the item himself, as he had no personal need or use for it, but he knew its immense significance.
It was an item that had never been taken outside the East Sea, a closely guarded secret, deeply protected and coveted by many Imugis for generations, a symbol of immense power and heritage.
To simply give it to the river dolphin he had just met, a human, no less…
Muheon mused, a whimsical thought crossing his mind, a slight quirk of his lips.
Did Dokgojin give it because he treats Hakyung like a beloved, perhaps slightly eccentric, grandson?
Muheon concluded silently that Dokgojin must truly be getting old, if he was so easily parting with such a priceless treasure, a sign of his growing fondness for Hakyung.
“You received something good,” Muheon remarked, his tone confirming the immense value and significance of the gift, a subtle nod to Dokgojin’s unexpected generosity.