Unrequited Love Thresher-Chapter 5: Lee Mihyun’s Gaze

Lee Mihyun—wife of Ha Ilwoo, and mother of Ha Dohoon.

She was the picture of elegance, like a chaebol wife in a movie or drama. Raised in a wealthy household, she’d once worked as a news anchor. After going on a formal match date at the right time, she married Ha Ilwoo. Though it was a marriage based on mutual benefit rather than love, she found it satisfactory. Love and happiness were never things that interested her anyway.

Her happiness came from maintaining her career and public image.

That satisfaction only grew after she gave birth to Dohoon. A beautiful and intelligent child who resembled both herself and Ha Ilwoo perfectly.

But Ha Giyeon... was not the same.

Unlike her planned first pregnancy, Giyeon had not been expected. Her morning sickness was brutal, and the labor even worse. People say that the child you bear through pain becomes the one you cherish the most.

For her, it was the opposite.

Giyeon looked nothing like her or her husband—neither in appearance, temperament, nor intelligence. She felt no affection. In fact, something about him repelled her. Unlike Dohoon, whom she personally raised and cherished, Giyeon was left to a babysitter. She gave him no attention.

"Mom..."

Yet the boy had persistently followed her around, as if begging for affection. He would bring her tea or coffee, constantly entering her room. She found it irritating and eventually snapped.

"Didn’t I tell you not to do that?! Are you pretending not to understand me?!"

She’d had a headache and couldn’t even remember what she’d said. All she remembered was that the child had stopped coming into her room after that—and she was glad. She figured it was for the best. Even without her attention, he was growing up in a good environment. There wouldn’t be any problems.

That is... until he disappeared from sight.

At some point, Ha Giyeon stopped showing up at the breakfast table. She ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) hadn’t cared whether he ate or not, but strangely, she found herself glancing at the empty seat he used to occupy. Or more precisely, she started noticing because of Dohoon’s increasing irritation.

"Did he... eat breakfast?"

Whenever she asked the housekeeper, the answer was always the same: he’d eaten early.

It was only a passing curiosity, and soon she stopped caring again. But then Dohoon dragged Giyeon back to the breakfast table. She found it odd—why was her eldest son acting this way? But more than that, she disliked how Giyeon barely touched his food. Whether he had no appetite or just felt sick, she didn’t like the sight of it.

Normally, she would have ignored it.

But this time, she blurted it out without thinking.

"If you’re not going to eat, just stop. It’s unpleasant to watch."

“Yes, ma’am.”

Scrape. His chair slid back. Almost as if he’d been waiting for that permission, Ha Giyeon stood up and walked right out.

Lee Mihyun stared blankly at the spot where he’d been sitting, her meal forgotten. That wasn’t the reaction she had expected.

"I’m sorry..."

He should’ve lowered his head and shoveled food into his mouth—just like always.

“...!”

By the time she came to her senses, even Ha Ilwoo couldn’t hide his surprise. Giyeon had never left the table just because of a few words.

“What the hell—”

Dohoon shot to his feet, ready to follow after him.

“Sit down.”

But Ha Ilwoo, now wearing a stern expression, cut in coldly.

“Ha Dohoon.”

“....”

Dohoon clenched his jaw and sat back down. The breakfast resumed as if nothing had happened, but for some reason, Lee Mihyun found she no longer had an appetite.

***

Not long after Ha Giyeon returned to his room, heavy footsteps thudded up the stairs—and then slam, the door burst open.

“Hey.”

As expected, it was Ha Dohoon, his face stiff with frustration. Giyeon sighed quietly and closed the workbook he’d been solving. Rising from his seat, he looked at his brother.

“What?”

With a mild expression and a slight tilt of the head, Giyeon asked innocently. Dohoon scoffed.

“Are you out of your damn mind? You just storm out of the breakfast table like that?”

“Mom said I could stop eating if I didn’t want to. Staying there would've just made things awkward.”

Giyeon answered clearly and calmly. Dohoon ran a hand through his hair in disbelief.

“I let you come to the table and this is how you act?”

“......”

At those words, something twinged painfully in Giyeon’s chest, and he instinctively hunched forward. He touched his sternum, but of course, there was nothing there. Still, the realization hit him.

So even now... I’m someone who needs permission just to eat with them.

He had always known. But hearing it spoken aloud made it sting.

“Hyung.”

Giyeon raised his eyes and looked at Dohoon directly.

Dohoon’s brow lifted slightly at the unwavering stare—like he was waiting for a confession, or maybe an apology.

“From now on, you don’t need to invite me to meals with our parents.”

“What?”

“They don’t like eating with me anyway.”

For a moment, Dohoon’s mind went completely blank. Deep down, he knew it. Knew that their parents were especially cold toward Giyeon—dismissive, even. And yet, he’d always brushed it off, told himself it wasn’t a big deal.

He assumed Giyeon didn’t understand it.

Or rather, he assumed he couldn’t understand it.

“There’s no reason for me to be at the table.”

But that wasn’t true. Giyeon had understood all along. And still, he had kept showing up.

“Why wouldn’t you be? You’re—”

Family. He’d meant to say. But the word caught in his throat.

Calling Giyeon family felt strange.

Dohoon shut his mouth. After a beat, he tried another angle.

“Why are you acting like this all of a sudden? You’ve been weird lately.”

“...This isn’t weird. This is how I should’ve been from the start.”

From the start? What does that even mean?

Dohoon opened his mouth to ask, but Giyeon had already taken a step back. He rubbed his temple like he had a headache and gestured toward the door. ƒreewebɳovel.com

“I’m going to sleep more... can you leave?”

“You—”

But before Dohoon could finish, Giyeon turned his back to him.

Unable to say a word, Dohoon clenched his teeth, slammed the door, and left.

Giyeon sighed, walked to his bed, and lay down. He didn’t want to waste a single drop more of emotion. He shut his eyes tight and refused to feel anything else.

***

After that day, Ha Dohoon began treating Ha Giyeon like he was invisible.

Well... maybe not completely invisible.

At first, he simply ignored Giyeon whenever they crossed paths. But over time, it escalated—he started glaring, clicking his tongue, or deliberately bumping shoulders when passing by. As if daring him to talk, as if demanding an apology.

Typical for someone that age.

If he bumped into him, Giyeon just sidestepped. If he glared, he stayed out longer. After everything he’d gone through before regression—hell, nearly went through war—this sort of thing didn’t even make him flinch.

At least he’s not locking me in a room and beating me.

Back when he worked in that factory, the supervisor once punched him for two hours straight in a warehouse because he moved too slowly. Compared to that, Ha Dohoon’s tantrums were almost cute. Besides, it was honestly a relief that he was being ignored.

“Ha, fuck...”

But apparently, Ha Dohoon didn’t feel the same.

Ever since that incident, he hadn’t been able to focus on a single thing. Soccer, video games, even meals—nothing worked. Out of nowhere, Giyeon’s words and expressions would float to the surface of his mind, driving him crazy.

When he used to think of Ha Giyeon, the image that came to mind was always that same dopey face with drooping eyebrows and a sheepish smile.

“This is how I should’ve been from the start.”

But now, it was the face that looked him dead in the eye, tired and annoyed, telling him to leave. It wasn’t a performance. It wasn’t dramatics. It was the expression you make toward someone you couldn’t care less about.

Dohoon had stormed out of the room after that exchange, but no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t figure out why Giyeon was acting this way. Only one explanation came to mind:

“He just wants attention. That’s all.”

He’d probably just taken it too far.

That thought made Dohoon bristle with irritation. If you wanted attention, fine—but there’s a limit. Know when to stop. He’d even given Giyeon a chance to apologize. If he’d just come out and said, “Sorry. I just wanted someone to notice me,” he might’ve forgiven him.

So now he was waiting in the living room. But the one who was supposed to show up—Ha Giyeon—was nowhere to be seen. Instead, the useless duo showed up.

“What are you doing?” Choi Mujin and Kwon Jongseok approached the sofa where Dohoon sat.

“Why are you two even here?”

“To play games.”

“Games, my ass.”

Dohoon scoffed as Mujin grabbed a controller. The guy had way more games than him at home anyway.

“And you? Why are you here?” he asked Jongseok.

“Also to play games.”

Bullshit. He doesn’t even play games.

It was obvious. They were here to see Giyeon, not to play anything. No matter how much they claimed he was annoying, there was no one better to kill time with when bored.

Step. Step.

“...!”

The moment they heard footsteps on the stairs, the three of them instinctively turned their heads like meerkats.

But it was only the housekeeper.

Dohoon groaned and turned away.

“Got my hopes up for nothing...”

“What’s up with you, Dohoon? You waiting for your brother or something?”

“What kind of bullshit is that.”

“If you guys fought, maybe try cutting Giyeon some slack.”

“Slack? Don’t start with that forgiveness crap.”

He grumbled and tightened his grip on the game controller.

Jongseok sighed and shook his head at Dohoon’s reaction. He didn’t know exactly what had gone down, but lately, any mention of Giyeon seemed to set Dohoon off. The guy had even started throwing things or grabbing people by the collar—things he never used to do. His temper lately was on par with Mujin’s.

What the hell did Giyeon do this time?

He must’ve broken something or said something offensive. Jongseok remembered the time Giyeon accidentally broke one of Dohoon’s belongings and got hit so hard he bled. He’d barely managed to stop Dohoon back then.

Probably something like that again.

It must’ve been serious if it was lasting this long—maybe he hadn’t apologized yet.

“Giyeon’s holding out longer than usual this time,” Jongseok muttered.

At that, Dohoon gritted his teeth and angrily mashed the gamepad buttons.

A while later, as the others were immersed in the game, Jongseok caught a movement in the corner of his eye and turned.

There was Ha Giyeon, walking quietly into the kitchen.

Mujin remained focused on the game. Dohoon’s gaze, however, sharpened and zeroed in on the direction of the kitchen like a predator.

Guess I’ll have to step in.

If Giyeon stayed like that, it would be boring—and he wouldn’t be able to tease or use him either. Better to get him to apologize and put an end to this nonsense.

Jongseok stood up and followed him into the kitchen.