Unrequited Love Thresher-Chapter 44: What I’m Hoping For

“Thank you for the meal.”

“All right. Come again next time.”

With a polite bow to the old woman, Ha Giyeon stepped out of the shop alongside Son Suhyeon. He held a frozen soda-flavored ice bar in one hand. As the cold ice spread over his sore tongue, the pain subsided.

Walking down the alley, Suhyeon turned and looked at Giyeon.

‘There’s still time left...’

There were still more than three hours before his café shift began. Since they had agreed to eat lunch and then part ways, they were supposed to say goodbye now. But for some reason... he didn’t want to let him go. To be honest, Suhyeon wanted to stay with Ha Giyeon a little longer. He didn’t want to go home and sit there in silence.

He just wanted... to spend a little more time with him.

“There’s a park if we go up the hill—wanna check it out?”

The words came out impulsively. It was a place only he had ever gone to...

Giyeon blinked wide-eyed with the ice pop still in his mouth.

“A park?”

“We can go walk it off... but if you don’t feel like it, that’s fine...”

“I want to go!”

Giyeon answered too quickly, worried Suhyeon might take back the offer. Then he hastily covered his mouth. He’d gotten too excited and shouted. The suggestion had come just as he’d been wondering where to go instead of heading home—and it made him so genuinely happy.

Suhyeon smiled like he was pleased and started walking ahead. Giyeon, face burning with embarrassment, ducked his head and followed behind him. If they walked up the sloped alley past Suhyeon’s house, there was a path that led to the park. The hill was rough and steep, so it wasn’t easy going.

At least—not for Ha Giyeon.

“Hff... Huff...”

Panting heavily and bending at the waist, Giyeon stumbled, and Suhyeon, who had been walking ahead, turned back and held out a hand.

“Grab on.”

“N-no, I’m okay!”

“You’re wobbling—come on.”

Suhyeon took hold of his wrist and led him up the path. Giyeon flinched and tried to pull away, but the warmth of Suhyeon’s touch made him loosen up. He quietly followed alongside him.

Once again, Giyeon was reminded how awful his stamina was. He glanced over at Suhyeon, who hadn’t even broken a sweat. Giyeon felt like a child being led by the hand of their parent.

At the top of the slope was a flat dirt clearing, with rusted jungle bars, dirty benches, and a railing overlooking the city skyline.

“Phew...”

“Your stamina’s really bad.” frёewebηovel.cѳm

Watching Giyeon stagger on his thin legs, Suhyeon couldn’t help but think he looked like a small animal. His wrist seemed like it might snap with even the slightest pressure. For all his warmth, Giyeon’s body was so cold.

“Wow...”

Giyeon’s eyes sparkled as he approached the railing, drawn to the view beyond it. The moment he moved, Suhyeon let go of his wrist. He watched Giyeon’s back with faint reluctance, opening and closing his hand once.

Giyeon leaned against the railing, taking in the cityscape as the fresh wind and blue sky opened up before him.

‘It’s so small...’

So small. Just like back then.

He knew this park and this view well. Only after arriving did he realize—this was the place he used to visit often before he regressed. Back then, there hadn’t been any benches or fitness equipment. Maybe because it was always deserted, it had eventually been dismantled. He never thought he’d see this scenery again. Though there was a trail up here, the dense grass and trees always gave the place an eerie, secluded feel.

The fact that Son Suhyeon knew this place too—

If he had come here earlier, maybe they would have crossed paths once. That lingering what-if and sense of regret made the corners of Giyeon’s lips lift gently.

“......”

Suhyeon was completely captivated by that pure smile. Everything else faded from view. He saw nothing but Ha Giyeon. Suhyeon’s fingers twitched slightly.

He wanted it. That untouched, untainted smile full of innocence. Maybe—he wanted Ha Giyeon himself.

“Sunbae...?”

“...Huh?”

Only when their eyes met did Suhyeon snap out of it. He quickly turned his gaze away from those hazel-colored eyes.

“Do you come here often, Sunbae?”

“...Sometimes. When I feel like exercising. Or when I want to walk.”

He said “sometimes,” but in truth, he came here quite a lot. On days when work was too tiring, when life itself felt too heavy—he would stand by this railing and look out over the city. The sprawling cityscapes looked endlessly small, and the people who tormented him were nowhere to be seen.

The place I feared... is really this small.

Just watching the view for a while calmed his heart, made him think of tomorrow’s rising sun. Bringing Giyeon to this secret place that no one else came to—it wasn’t just a whim. Lately, Giyeon always looked exhausted. Whether from exams or something else, he looked like someone standing right at the edge of a railing. That’s why Suhyeon had brought him here. Hoping—just for a moment, just a little—that he could shake off whatever was weighing on him.

Watching Giyeon smile quietly, Suhyeon was glad he had.

“Thank you, Sunbae. Honestly... I’ve been really tired lately.”

“Could be just because of exams... or was there something else?”

“Uh, well...”

There was a lot. Starting with the marks on his neck—then Nam Taekyung, his brothers, his parents. The only reason he hadn’t crumbled yet was because of Son Suhyeon. If he’d failed his exams too, he’d probably be somewhere resenting his life right now. He couldn’t say all that to Suhyeon.

When Giyeon glanced away uncomfortably, Suhyeon watched him for a moment, then finally spoke.

“When I get overwhelmed, I come up here. When the loneliness of being alone suddenly hits me.”

Those words carried weight. And Giyeon could feel it. Suhyeon had never once spoken about his family.

Why he lived alone, where his parents were—he had never brought it up, and Giyeon had never asked. From the moment he first stepped into Suhyeon’s home, he’d noticed. The café owner avoided family-related topics when talking to Suhyeon. Suhyeon himself looked like someone completely used to living alone.

That side of him resembled Giyeon’s pre-regression self, so he had intentionally pretended not to notice. He never expected Suhyeon to bring it up first like this.

If they were this close... maybe it was okay for him to talk too.

Giyeon opened his lips to speak—then froze.

‘What if he despises me...?’

He’d told a few people his story in the past. At first, they’d comforted him with sympathetic faces. But over time, their true emotions surfaced—mockery, contempt, superiority.

He didn’t believe Suhyeon was that kind of person... but tearing down a wall so carefully built wasn’t easy.

In the end, Ha Giyeon kept his mouth shut and lowered his head. Suhyeon looked at him quietly, then reached over and gently ruffled his hair.

“Next time we come here, tell me. Whatever it was that made it so hard.”

“...!”

He sounded like someone who would always be there. Ha Giyeon found himself wishing—someday, he could tell him everything.

That if it was Son Suhyeon... maybe it would be okay.

***

“...I don’t want to go in.”

Giyeon stared at his house, now growing closer in the distance, his eyes slightly glazed. Midterms were over, he’d eaten tteokbokki with Suhyeon, and his café shift had gone smoothly. It had been a perfect day—if not for this place.

This house had never been comfortable, but lately, it had grown even more suffocating. Ever since his mother and brother burst into his room, even the space where he could barely breathe had begun to feel terrifying. After Dohoon strangled him, he’d stopped showing up in the living room after Giyeon’s shifts—but now, their mother hovered between the kitchen and living room instead.

At first, he thought it was a coincidence, but after four times, he was sure.

Even when he did encounter her, she didn’t do anything. Giyeon would bow his head and greet her, and she would give him a scornful once-over.

Her gaze was burdensome—but at least she didn’t speak. That had been a relief.

Until yesterday.

As Giyeon stepped into the entryway and confirmed no one was in the living room, he moved quickly toward the ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) stairs. But just as he started climbing, a voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Are you planning to keep behaving like this?”

His mother had come near the stairs without him noticing. She looked at him coldly as she spoke. Giyeon couldn’t move. He wanted to go to his room, but now that they’d made eye contact, he couldn’t ignore her.

Besides—she was the one who’d spoken first.

He turned and bowed his head, but Lee Mihyun only looked at him with the same disapproving eyes.

“Did you apologize to Dohoon?”

“......”

“Don’t stand there in silence. Answer properly.”

“...No.”

Of course he hadn’t. He had no reason to. His brother was the one who came into his room and choked him—so what did he have to apologize for? His mother had mentioned confiscating his card, but he didn’t care. He hadn’t used that card once since regressing.

He was living off his part-time wages now. He had no intention of using anything from this house except for his room.

With his head bowed, he waited for whatever words would follow.

“...Haah.”

He flinched at the sound of her sigh. He couldn’t help but tremble when left alone with her. The last time they’d had a one-on-one conversation was right before she kicked him out.

“You really weren’t it. I lost my real son and kept you all this time...”

“The whole time you were in this house, I...”

“Get out. Right now.”

The fragments of memory were about to continue, but Giyeon shut them down. Just then, her voice returned, stringing those same kinds of words together.

“Don’t you think you’re not even worthy of being raised?”

“......”

“If you think we’ll keep you around just because you’re our son, you’re making a huge mistake.”

“You don’t have to keep me.”

The words came out before he could stop them. He surprised even himself—but he didn’t regret it. She’d never once “kept” him—so how could she say something like that now?

“If I bother you, then lock the door like before, or tell me to leave. I’ll go quietly.”

“You...”

His mother couldn’t finish her sentence. She looked at him, visibly shaken by what he’d said.

Ha Giyeon turned and fled to his room, shut the door, and let out a long breath with his eyes tightly closed.

He’d said it.

Now, if she told him to leave, he could go anytime. No—he had to go.

Even if he had to live in a gosiwon, at least he wouldn’t rot away in this house. At least there, he wouldn’t have to watch every move he made.

Maybe...

Maybe he was hoping for it.

That they’d kick him out.