Unrequited Love Thresher-Chapter 21: Viciously Hateful

“Huff...”

Lee Mihyun shot upright in bed. Her hands groped hastily beside her in the darkness that filled her vision.

Click.

The light of the bedside lamp gradually came on. As ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) the furniture surrounding the bed came into view, only then did she let out a breath.

“Ha...”

Cold sweat clung to her skin, and the hands clutching the blanket were trembling. With fingers still quivering, she barely managed to pour herself a glass of water from the cup on the nightstand and drank it slowly. The cool liquid sliding down her throat helped clear her mind a little.

“What the...”

A blurry landscape—

A woman holding something tightly in her arms.

That was all she could remember.

Why she had such a dream, whether it was even a nightmare—none of it made any sense. Why was her body shaking, why did her heart pound like it might burst? She had no answers. Lee Mihyun stepped into the bathroom to wash away the clammy sweat clinging to her body.

“...!”

She gasped when she caught her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her face had gone ghostly pale, like she’d seen something terrifying. What on earth had that woman been holding that could frighten her this badly?

Trying to recall the dream made her head throb like it was about to split open.

“It’s just a dream...”

Lee Mihyun turned on the cold water in an attempt to wipe her thoughts clean.

After finishing her shower, she looked out the window at the still-dark sky and checked the time.

5 a.m.

Woken at an odd hour, any hope of falling back asleep had slipped away.

She threw on a robe and stepped out of her room.

Rather than fall back into that disturbing dream, she decided she’d rather have some tea and read a book. As she walked to the kitchen, she saw the housekeeper already up, chopping vegetables. Startled slightly by her presence, the housekeeper looked up and greeted her.

“Did you sleep well, madam?”

“...”

Mihyun gave a small nod and glanced around the kitchen.

“Do you need something?”

“...Does that boy usually eat breakfast this early?”

The housekeeper paused, not immediately understanding who she meant, but quickly realized Mihyun was referring to Ha Giyeon and shook her head.

“Madam, Master Giyeon hasn’t returned home.”

“...He hasn’t come home?”

“No, ma’am. The door was locked last night, and he didn’t come back in.”

Lee Mihyun’s previously composed expression stiffened. Her widened eyes shook in disbelief.

She had assumed, of course, that Giyeon had come home. Even if she had locked the door, Ha Dohoon was home—surely he would’ve let him in. She thought they’d contacted each other. But now she was being told that he had checked the locked door and just turned back?

Where on earth could he have gone that night?

“Are you all right, madam? You look...”

“Don’t mind me. Go back to your work.”

Mihyun staggered slightly as she left the kitchen.

She was heading back to her room to retrieve her phone, but suddenly stopped in her tracks. Turning toward the staircase leading to the second floor, she changed direction and climbed up. She couldn’t believe Giyeon hadn’t come home—she needed to see it for herself.

Standing in the upstairs hallway, she stared blankly at the row of doors.

‘Which one was his room...?’

She couldn’t quite remember where Ha Giyeon’s room was. She knew, of course, that Dohoon’s room was the one right by the stairs—but Giyeon’s? She had no idea. She rarely ever came upstairs in the first place, and beyond that, she had no real interest in the boy. That she didn’t know wasn’t surprising. When the rooms were being decorated, she had chosen the furniture, wallpaper, and accessories for Dohoon’s room herself.

But Giyeon’s room had been left entirely to someone else.

Standing idly in the hallway, she felt the lack of interest she'd shown toward Giyeon laid bare.

She moved again.

Past Dohoon’s room stood three more doors in a row.

One of them had to be Giyeon’s.

One was the bathroom. Another, a storage room.

“This one...?”

She guessed the room next to Dohoon’s must be Giyeon’s.

But it was the bathroom.

Confident the next one was the right room, she opened the door—only to find a cluttered storage space full of furniture and miscellaneous items.

“Then...”

Her gaze turned to the last door at the very end of the hallway.

She’d assumed it wasn’t his, since it was so far down.

Her hand gripped the doorknob. She was sure now this had to be his room, but strangely, she couldn’t bring herself to open it. Maybe she should just turn back. She was about to release the knob when the image of the woman from her dream flashed through her mind—her hand pushing open a metal door.

Unconsciously, Mihyun twisted the knob firmly.

Click. The door opened, and she stepped inside.

A room so old she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been there.

What caught her attention wasn’t the furniture—but the coldness in the air.

“The draft...”

The air was noticeably colder than in her own bedroom or the living room. Mihyun walked toward the window near the bed. A chilly breeze was seeping in through the window frame.

“Was the construction done poorly...?”

She pulled the curtain shut to block the cold wind. Then she turned and slowly looked around the room. She had come in a few times when Giyeon was very young, so it wasn’t entirely unfamiliar.

No—actually, it was exactly the same.

“Why hasn’t the furniture changed...?”

Never mind that the layout and design were dreadful—the furniture itself was worn and shabby.

‘...I thought he bought them himself.’

The surface of the wooden desk was scratched and broken, and the chair looked far too small for Giyeon’s current size. She wondered if he didn’t sit at the desk much and she simply hadn’t noticed, but that couldn’t be right—there were books and workbooks neatly stacked on top of it.

“He’s... studying?”

She had never once checked his grades, so she didn’t know. As she skimmed a workbook, something caught her eye.

“...?”

The desk drawer wasn’t fully closed—something was sticking out of it.

A bankbook, with a seal beside it. It looked like it had gotten caught in the drawer.

“Leaving something like this out...”

Even if it was their house, with staff coming and going, this seemed far too careless.

She reached to push the bankbook back into the drawer.

“....”

But then her gaze lingered on it.

Both Giyeon and Dohoon used the credit cards provided by her husband and herself. There was no reason for either of them to deposit or withdraw money from a personal account. And yet, this bankbook had clearly been taken out recently.

Just as Mihyun was about to open it—

Knock knock.

A soft knock, followed by the housekeeper appearing at Giyeon’s open door.

“Madam, Secretary Lee says he needs to speak with you regarding today’s schedule.”

“...Understood.”

She put the bankbook back in the drawer and left Ha Giyeon’s room.

***

Not only had he walked to school with Son Suhyeon, but by sheer coincidence, they ended up running into each other again in the cafeteria and having lunch together. Before either of them realized it, they were chatting comfortably. The conversation had started with cheap deals on KuX, shifted to recommendations for daily necessities, and now had drifted into the topic of online lectures.

“The math lectures in this one are good. The explanations are detailed, and they don’t rush through the material.”

“Send me the link.”

“I’ll send it now.”

Son Suhyeon got some solid recommendations for lectures and workbooks, and Ha Giyeon found out about sites where he could buy household items cheaply. His grades hadn’t ever been bad to begin with, but because he’d gone a year without studying at all, he had to start fresh—starting with finding the right lectures and books.

Surprisingly, Giyeon was a big help to Son Suhyeon. Before the regression, he’d already prepared for the college entrance exam, and among his older “brothers,” the one with the best grades, Kwon Jongseok, had reviewed a lot of lectures and materials—Giyeon had seen them all.

“Sunbae, I’ll head to my class now.”

Walking in the opposite direction, Ha Giyeon gave a small wave. Son Suhyeon, a little awkwardly, lifted his hand in response.

“...See you later.”

Then he quickly walked off.

Watching his figure disappear into the distance, Giyeon felt an odd tickle lingering in his fingertips where he’d waved.

‘...He must’ve meant the café when he said “see you later.”’

Just like before the regression, building relationships was hard after coming back. He’d gone through too much. The idea of comfortably talking to someone, spending time with someone, was something he just couldn’t imagine—it felt suffocating. But once he’d actually talked with Suhyeon, he felt like maybe he understood what peace was.

It was like he’d finally come up for air after being dragged under for so long.

For once, he found himself looking forward to going to work.

On his way to class, he started up the stairs—only to notice a strange number of students bounding up them.

“...?”

He wondered vaguely if they were playing tag or something and kept walking down the hallway.

“Ha Giyeon.”

A voice called his name from behind.

Before even turning around, Giyeon’s mind was already trying to figure out who would call him.

‘Suhyeon-sunbae just left... a teacher? No, maybe it’s someone with the same name.’

Surely he wasn’t the only “Ha Giyeon” in the whole school.

He tried to come up with all kinds of excuses—truthfully, he was in denial. The voice had been far too familiar.

He started walking again.

“Hey.”

Maybe even more familiar than his name.

His head turned instinctively—and at the end of his gaze stood Ha Dohoon, Choi Mujin, and Kwon Jongseok.

“You just gonna stand there like an idiot when someone calls you?”

“Wait, wha...”

He couldn’t finish the sentence.

Did his brother really just speak to him? In the middle of the hallway, with students passing by?

Giyeon’s eyes darted around. Students were clustered near the snack shop, and now their gazes were turning toward him and his brothers.

‘Are they fucking insane?’

A curse almost slipped out. The kind the factory ajusshi and ajumma used to mutter under their breath—he could practically feel them on his tongue.

“Heading to the snack shop?”

“What, you just ate lunch and you’re already going for snacks?”

They grinned, one corner of their mouths twitching like they were joking around. Gone was the contempt from before the regression—the way they used to treat him like something dirty.

His lips clamped shut. He didn’t react.

Ha Dohoon’s face twisted in annoyance.

“Ha Giyeon. Answer me.”

“...I was just going to class... sir.”

He finally came to his senses and spoke. Swallowing down his instinct to use banmal, he awkwardly forced out polite speech. If he didn’t do at least this much, they might take it as a sign they were close enough to speak informally.

Using honorifics was the only way to draw a clear line—that they were just seniors and juniors, nothing more.

“What the hell? What’s with the formal speech all of a sudden?”

“Ugh, hearing you talk like that to your own brother is so cringey.”

“Giyeon, just talk like you normally do. Use banmal.”

And just like that, they crushed that boundary too.

Why were they acting like this all of a sudden? The question filled Giyeon’s mind as he looked at their faces—and in that moment, he realized.

The corners of their mouths trembled.

It was the expression they always made when they were toying with him. That mockery they could never fully hide.

‘They’re doing this on purpose...’

Just like in childhood—when he asked them not to do something, they would do it more, laughing as they pushed his boundaries. They couldn’t even hide how much fun they were having now.

Ha Giyeon looked at their faces and felt one thing:

They were viciously, unbearably hateful.