Honbul: Flame of the Soul

If the aftermath of the first kiss had been a tsunami, the aftermath of the second was the exact opposite.

Normally, Jaegyeom fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. But tonight, he tossed and turned for hours, unable to drift off properly. He almost wished he could lose consciousness the way he had last time. Instead, the second kiss left him with a miserable bout of insomnia, and only around dawn did he finally slip into a shallow sleep.

Even that didn’t last long.

Jaegyeom woke again in a haze.

The curtains were drawn, leaving the room dark enough that he couldn’t tell whether it was still dawn or already morning. Lying on his side, he slowly rolled onto his back and stared blankly at the familiar ceiling. His eyelids started to droop again.

What time is it... Should I get up...?

“You can sleep more. It’s still early.”

A low voice whispered beside him, impossibly gentle.

...Huh?

The drowsiness vanished instantly.

Jaegyeom’s eyes flew open. He jerked his head toward the voice.

Someone was lying next to him in his bed, head resting against the pillow beside his own.

It was Yoon Taehee.

The last traces of sleep disappeared from Jaegyeom completely.

“Wh-what the hell? You...”

Startled, Jaegyeom tried to sit up, but his body refused to move.

Flat on his back, all he could do was turn his head. It felt as though a massive stone were pinning him down. Strangely, though, it wasn’t unpleasant. If anything, it was comfortable. Warm. Heavy in a way that made him want to sink deeper into the mattress instead of fighting it.

The urge to move faded almost immediately.

Jaegyeom let the strength drain from his body and relaxed back into the bed.

“Why are you here?”

Taehee answered easily.

“Didn’t you bring me here?”

...Oh. Right.

The memory surfaced at once.

There had been a drinking party yesterday. Taehee had gotten drunk and fallen asleep, and no matter what Jaegyeom did, he wouldn’t wake up. In the end, with no other choice, Jaegyeom had dragged him back here to sleep.

Jaegyeom rolled his eyes.

“I almost left you on the street.”

“I wouldn’t have minded sleeping there.”

Jaegyeom frowned immediately.

“Hey. In weather like this, you could get a stroke sleeping outside.”

“A stroke?”

Still propped on one arm, Taehee lowered his face into it and laughed quietly.

“Why are you laughing? I’m serious.”

Trying to make him understand the danger, Jaegyeom launched into a story about someone he’d seen in a village a long time ago who had collapsed from a stroke. The conversation drifted further and further off track after that, wandering into unrelated subjects, but Taehee listened attentively the entire time.

The two of them lay side by side in the darkness, talking in low voices.

“Hey. By the way...”

Staring up at the ceiling, Jaegyeom spoke suddenly.

“Is this a dream?”

He turned his head toward Taehee again.

“...”

For a brief moment, Taehee said nothing. In the darkness, his half-lidded eyes rested on Jaegyeom’s face as though studying him.

“...No. It’s not.”

“Really.”

Jaegyeom nodded absently and closed his eyes again.

Silence settled over the room.

Then Taehee spoke.

“Why did you lie to me?”

Jaegyeom’s eyes snapped back open.

Taehee was still lying on his side, watching him.

“What? About what?”

“You said there wasn’t much to talk about with Seok Juryeon.”

Ah.

Right.

He’d brushed it off earlier, saying the private meeting with Seok Juryeon hadn’t been anything important.

Remembering that, Jaegyeom immediately felt wronged.

“How is that a lie? I just didn’t tell you. Keeping something to myself isn’t the same as lying. If you were me—”

He stopped abruptly.

“...”

In the middle of getting worked up, he’d practically admitted he had been hiding something.

Feeling vaguely guilty, Jaegyeom glanced sideways at Taehee.

A quiet laugh drifted through the dark.

Taehee didn’t press him. He just lay there, smiling to himself.

“...I just didn’t feel like talking about it earlier.”

After a long pause, Jaegyeom muttered the confession under his breath.

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t something good for you to hear.”

Taehee tilted his head slightly.

“And now?”

For some reason, it felt possible now.

Maybe it was because of the hour, or the darkness, or the strange softness hanging in the room. It felt as though some tightly shut door inside him had swung open. Like he could tell Taehee any secret at all.

***

Being left alone in a room with Seok Juryeon had been unexpectedly nerve-racking.

Jaegyeom had gone into the conversation tense from the start, worried she might have noticed something and planned to interrogate him. Even though it was their first meeting, he could tell immediately that she was not someone to underestimate.

Not knowing what she wanted made him even more uneasy.

“You’re eighteen, right?”

But when Seok Juryeon finally spoke, her opening words were unexpectedly ordinary.

“I should’ve met with you sooner, but I’ve been busy. So. How’s work in the Exorcism Unit? I heard you ran into an earthbound ghost during the newcomer rite.”

Until then, Seok Juryeon had seemed like the kind of superior who wouldn’t bleed even if someone stabbed her with a needle.

Cold steel.

But speaking to him one-on-one, something about her felt different. Her voice softened slightly, and her deep gaze examined him with careful attention.

There was a strange warmth to her.

“I heard you saw a deer during the exam. Are there other gifted people in your family?”

Jaegyeom hesitated before giving a small shake of his head.

The question felt uncomfortably close to probing his background. He found himself recalling the details written in the forged records Taehee had prepared for him.

“So you’re an awl.”

Fortunately, Seok Juryeon didn’t pry any further.

“A rare talent that suddenly appears out of nowhere. That’s what people call an awl.”

Jaegyeom had assumed she’d summoned him to ask about something important—how he knew classical Chinese, or how he recognized Bangsangsi.

Instead, the conversation remained unexpectedly mundane.

“How are things with your recommender?”

“...Pardon?”

“Chief Yoon.”

Caught off guard, Jaegyeom went silent for a moment.

He wanted to say every single day was exhausting, but obviously he couldn’t say that out loud.

After hesitating, he answered cautiously.

“He’s... kind. Gentle.”

The words were stolen almost directly from something Kang Ibin had once said.

It sounded believable enough, but for some reason Seok Juryeon didn’t respond immediately.

Expressionless, she simply stared at him for a long moment, making Jaegyeom wonder whether he’d said something wrong.

“...I’m glad to hear he’s been kind to you.”

Then, gazing somewhere past him toward the wall, she said quietly,

“People who are kind to everyone are usually the cruelest in the end.”

Jaegyeom looked back at her, puzzled.

More than anything, he didn’t understand why Seok Juryeon was telling him things like this.

Apparently the feeling was mutual.

As though she could read the confusion on his face, she added,

“Try to get along.”

It sounded indifferent. Almost lukewarm.

And in that moment, Jaegyeom finally understood.

Seok Juryeon cared deeply about Yoon Taehee.

The realization left him with a strange feeling he couldn’t quite describe.

The cold, steel-like Seok Juryeon was far more human than he’d expected.

That was the end of the conversation.

Seok Juryeon dismissed him with a quiet remark that he could leave now. Jaegyeom bowed and headed for the door.

Honestly, there really hadn’t been much worth reporting to Taehee, just like he’d said.

He opened the seminar room door.

“Ah. One more thing.”

Seok Juryeon stopped him before he could leave.

“The director is interested in you. Apparently she heard the rumor about the deer from the exam.”

Jaegyeom’s hand tightened around the doorknob.

“She’ll probably call for you soon, so make sure you greet her properly.”

The way she said it sounded casual. As though it were nothing important.

And Jaegyeom had wanted to treat it the same way.

***

“The director of the Office of Narye is interested in me.”

Jaegyeom spoke abruptly, recalling the conversation he’d had with Seok Juryeon in the seminar room.

He felt Taehee’s gaze settle on him.

Jaegyeom shut his eyes tightly and frowned.

“She said I’d probably get called in soon.”

Taehee stayed silent for a while.

“I wasn’t hiding it from you for some special reason.”

It sounded like an excuse, but it was true.

Things had just... happened that way.

Maybe he simply hadn’t wanted Taehee to worry. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to hand him something unpleasant to think about.

At some point without realizing it, Jaegyeom had started paying ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) attention to Taehee’s feelings.

“...I see.”

Only after a long silence did Taehee finally speak.

“Thanks for telling me.”

His voice was quiet. Soft.

Jaegyeom turned his head slightly.

His eyes had adjusted to the darkness by now, enough to make out the faint curve of Taehee’s smile.

Staring at him, Jaegyeom blurted out suddenly,

“You look better with your hair down.”

Taehee froze.

Then he stared straight at Jaegyeom.

“... ”

For once, he genuinely looked caught off guard.

As though he had no idea how to respond to a comment like that, he awkwardly brushed a hand over his face before muttering,

“...Thanks.”

“You should sleep more.”

Taehee pulled the blanket up over Jaegyeom before finally lowering himself properly onto the pillow.

Jaegyeom didn’t answer.

“... ”

He shifted his eyes sideways, secretly studying the man lying beside him with his eyes already closed.

The sharp line of his face looked almost sculpted in the dark.

Quietly, Jaegyeom pushed himself up onto one elbow.

Unlike before, his body moved freely now.

Leaning over him slightly, he stared down at Taehee from close range.

Sensing the gaze, Taehee slowly opened his eyes.

“What?”

Jaegyeom looked straight at him.

“Let’s kiss.”