Unrequited Love Thresher-Chapter 40: Waiting for Tomorrow

Ha Giyeon stared at the floor, trying to calm the queasiness in his stomach.

There was no strength in his legs. He couldn’t breathe properly. The trembling wouldn’t stop. The world felt like it was spinning.

From the moment Ha Dohoon had grabbed his throat, his mind had half-shut down. Memories that had been buried deep—memories of trauma—began playing in his head like short, silent films.

A few years after he’d run away from home, he’d gotten a job at a factory introduced to him by a man from a construction site.

It was the kind of place where you moved like a machine, without pause. Lunchtime existed in name only. Even when he managed to eat, it was so rushed it left him nauseated, or barely felt like eating at all. He lost weight rapidly, but even while working himself to the bone, Ha Giyeon endured. Because that factory provided room and board.

The room was barely big enough to lie down in, but at least it didn’t have someone pounding on the door screaming to let them in, or rough panting from the next room over. He got beaten often for being too slow, but still, it was better than the goshiwon.

He clung to survival and kept working.

He was the only young worker there. All the others who started on the first day had quit by evening. The only one who stayed and worked like a madman was Giyeon.

At first, the team leader cussed him out and hit him. But over time, he stopped raising a hand. Sometimes, he even told others to watch and learn from him.

When Giyeon finally began adjusting to the job, an opportunity came.

"You work hard and do well—that's why I'm recommending you."

"Thank you...!"

It wasn’t a precarious position where he could be kicked out at any time—he was getting promoted to a full-time employee. A place of his own. Recognition from someone else.

Giyeon was so happy, he didn’t notice the fury behind those eyes watching him.

One night, after falling asleep early as usual, he woke up with a choking sensation. His breath was completely cut off, and his eyes flew open—

Only to meet a blood-red glare, eyes full of rage.

"Because of bastards like you, I—!"

"Ghhk...!"

The blurry figure choking him was a man from the factory. Someone who had occasionally talked to him. A kind, middle-aged man who had praised him for working hard and even given him drinks.

But not now.

That same hand that once offered him soda was now wrapped around his neck. The mouth that once spoke kindly now spat curses, screaming for him to die.

Just before he passed out, someone opened the door and shouted. The man was dragged away, his arms restrained.

And Giyeon sat in shock for a long time afterward.

It was only later that he found out: the “opportunity” he’d gotten wasn’t a new position—it had been the man’s.

The factory wanted someone younger and faster. They fired the older man to make room for Giyeon as a permanent worker.

And that realization—more than the terror of being choked—shattered him.

He had stolen someone’s place again.

Eventually, Ha Giyeon ran away from the factory, as if fleeing something. And once again, he found himself alone on the street. He got another job and lived on his own, but every night, he dreamed of being choked.

He’d open his eyes, gasping for breath, clutching his neck, always hearing that same phrase—“Give it back.”

Sometimes he’d wake up clawing at his throat. Other nights, he couldn’t sleep at all and just shivered in the dark.

After the regression, at least he no longer had a man like that in his past. He’d thought that, if he was careful, no one would come close enough to wrap their hands around his throat again.

But now, Ha Dohoon had choked him.

He couldn’t hear what Dohoon was saying. Instead, it felt like he was hearing the same cursed mutterings from that man in the factory—those words that always haunted him in his dreams.

“You stole my real son’s place.”

Giyeon fought to stay conscious.

At the very least—not in front of Ha Dohoon. He refused to collapse and look weak here.

Same for his mother. If she saw, she might throw him out even sooner than expected.

And then—then, someone would kill him.

“Ugh...”

Numb, Giyeon bit down on his tongue.

The sharp, metallic taste of blood flooded his mouth, and clarity slammed back in.

Through the underwater silence, his mother’s voice finally reached him.

“I never expected much from you anyway, but you never fail to disappoint.”

“......”

“I’m not even asking you to be half the son your brother is—just behave. Was that so hard? Who taught you to throw punches like that? What kind of ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) kids are you hanging around with that you’d even raise your hand to your own brother?”

There was a scab on Ha Dohoon’s lip. Giyeon had no idea she’d think he had done it. He almost tried to explain.

But he shut his mouth.

She wouldn’t listen anyway.

His parents only doted on Dohoon. That had always been obvious. So obvious it was boring.

What could you possibly expect from a child you’d never cared about? And what disappointment could there be?

All Giyeon felt now was monotony.

“Your card is confiscated for the time being. Until you apologize and your brother forgives you.”

Lee Mihyun clicked her tongue and left the room after looking him up and down.

Giyeon moved his legs, trying to sit up.

But he collapsed.

There was no strength in them. He loosened his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, but the tightness in his chest wouldn’t go away. He scratched at it with his nails—only to leave claw marks. It still didn’t ease the pressure.

He was going to lose it.

That voice, dripping with blame. That hand around his throat. That gaze full of contempt. The feeling of being trapped, with no way out.

How was this any different from the factory?

“...Ha.”

He honestly wanted to cry. He felt like if he could just cry, maybe he could stand back up.

But no tears came.

No matter how sad, how pathetic, how hopeless he felt—his eyes stayed dry, fixed vacantly on the floor.

Ridiculously, even now, he didn’t feel angry.

Instead, he blamed himself. For not being their real son. For existing in the place of someone else.

That’s why he’d been choked—just like before.

Why can’t I get out of this...

What was the point of clawing desperately to survive? Nothing ever changed. He’d be kicked out again, live his life chased by money, and die in vain.

Was there no place in this world for him?

If that’s the case...

And just then—

Bzzzz—his phone buzzed on the floor.

Ha Giyeon slowly rolled his eyes toward the flashing screen. The message app had popped up.

Son Suhyeon sunbae

Don’t walk to school tomorrow while staring at your vocab book again. Sleep well.

“...!”

His eyes flew open.

Suddenly, the numbness left his body. The bitter taste on his tongue, the burning ache in his throat—it all returned.

“Haah...”

Finally, he drew a breath.

He crawled over to his phone and clutched it to his chest like it was precious.

This time was different. This person proved that Ha Giyeon had changed. He greeted him. Checked in on him. Helped him when he was in trouble. Worried for him. Made him smile.

When Giyeon couldn’t even imagine tomorrow, this person showed it to him instead.

He moved his fingers and tapped the screen.

[Thank you. Sleep well, sunbae.]

He sent the message and slowly stood.

His legs, which had refused to move, finally listened.

Because he had to move. Son Suhyeon was waiting for his tomorrow.

First, he gathered the shopping bags and stacked them in the corner. Tomorrow, he’d ask the housekeeper to send them back to Choi Mujin’s house while he was at school.

“Ugh...”

He flinched as he peeled off his shirt—his neck burned where it scraped.

Standing in front of the mirror, he checked his reflection. His neck was red and swollen—anyone would know he’d been choked.

Guess I’ll wear a turtleneck tomorrow.

It was warm for a turtleneck, but he had no choice. Unless he wanted to advertise what happened, he’d have to cover it completely.

He considered applying ointment to reduce the swelling.

Was the first aid box in the living room?

Just thinking about going out there this late made him give up. No way was he facing the housekeeper—or his mother or brother—like this.

Maybe a cold compress...

As he turned toward the bathroom, he caught a glimpse of his arm in the mirror—and remembered the ointment Son Suhyeon had given him. He grabbed it from his bag.

A gift from Son Suhyeon.

Maybe he was overthinking it. But he decided to believe it was a gift—because believing that was the only way he could survive in this hellish place.

He applied the ointment to his neck.

The cool feeling soothed the burning pain.

He dabbed it on again. And again.

Hoping that like this ointment, his heart might cool toward them too.

***

Ha Giyeon spent the next week in a daze.

He had to deal with Nam Taekyung, return the clothes to Choi Mujin, and avoid his mother and Ha Dohoon.

Because of that, he couldn’t study properly for exams.

Nam Taekyung approached the moment Giyeon entered the classroom, complaining that he felt hurt, saying he wanted to get closer—hinting once again about coming over to his house.

Already mentally exhausted, Giyeon replied with firm finality.

“My parents are strict. They don’t like me bringing friends over.”

“Ah... Really?”

Taekyung looked taken aback, then lowered his brows in a sulky expression. His friends, standing behind him, muttered while avoiding Giyeon’s gaze.

“Yeah, like they’d wanna let lowlives into a fancy house~”

“Guess you gotta be filthy rich to be friends with Giyeon.”

“H-Hey, guys...”

Taekyung tried to hush them, stealing glances at Giyeon.

But Giyeon already understood. Their attitudes had clearly shifted. Probably because of what Mujin said in the classroom that day, when they went to the department store.

Words like “low-class” and “dirt-poor”—the kind meant to humiliate. freēwēbnovel.com

And now they were taking it out on him, who had stood silently beside Mujin.

Honestly, he wasn’t surprised. He’d expected this outcome. It wasn’t like he could avoid criticism forever.

In fact, he found it convenient. If Taekyung’s friends hated him, he’d finally have a reason to avoid Taekyung too. He could start pulling away.

Which left just one more problem—

[Choi Mujin-hyung]

Since Mujin kept calling nonstop, Giyeon finally picked up.