Unrequited Love Thresher-Chapter 6: So It Wasn’t Longing

Ha Giyeon spent the entire morning focused on lectures and studying.

He worked hard using the practice books and online courses he’d bought with his part-time wages, but without anyone to ask questions, it was hard to make real progress. He knew if he asked his parents, they’d just hand him a credit card and tell him to sign up for any cram school he wanted. But he couldn’t owe them anything more.

Just the fact that they’d raised him and let him live here had already cost a fortune—if he added more debt on top of that, he’d never repay it in his lifetime. So the only option was to rely on self-study, poring over explanations on his own.

Knock knock.

At the sound of someone knocking, Giyeon pulled out his earbuds.

“Sorry to interrupt your studying.”

“No, it’s okay. I just finished.”

The housekeeper came in holding a plastic-wrapped school uniform.

“Your ordered uniform just arrived. Try it on and see if it fits.”

“Ah, thank you.”

“It’s lunchtime—do you want anything to eat?”

“Oh, I’m actually heading out soon, so I don’t need lunch.”

“Going without meals isn’t good for you... I’ll at least set out some cake. Make sure to eat before you go.”

She reminded him firmly not to skip meals before leaving the room.

She seems more familiar now.

Unlike before, the housekeeper spoke with him more, smiled at him—maybe that’s why he felt a bit more comfortable living here now. Giyeon pulled the plastic off the uniform lying on the bed.

“Same as before, huh.”

The pants pooled on the floor, and the blazer and shirt were far too long, covering his hands completely.

Anyone could see it wasn’t his size. It would probably fit his brother.

Must’ve been that guy again.

Kim Seunghyun—his father’s secretary.

Technically, he was more like a family servant. He’d been hired back when Giyeon was in elementary school, and though he’d treated Giyeon politely at first, he eventually began ignoring him.

“Oh, that? I forgot. I’ve been busy.”

“When am I supposed to go buy that? So annoying...”

“I’ll get it if I remember. Or you can go buy it yourself.”

Even when Giyeon made requests, Kim would usually dismiss him with subtle annoyance. Sometimes he would cave if the father was nearby, but he had never once gotten Giyeon proper clothes. While the family’s clothes were bought from department stores, Giyeon’s were worn-out or obviously secondhand, collars stretched, stained. And yet, he’d stayed silent.

Don’t # Nоvеlight # cause trouble. Just keep quiet.

What was the point of speaking up when no one would listen?

“Exchange it? Just wear it. It’s not even that big. School uniforms are supposed to be roomy.”

“But this is too big...”

“Then take it to a dry cleaner or something. I’ve got errands from ma’am to run, and I can’t delay them just for you.”

Not knowing where the uniform had come from or how to exchange it, Giyeon had awkwardly altered it himself. The dry cleaner had even said it would’ve been better to just buy a new one.

So now, though he’d received the same uniform as before, something felt different.

“Glad I applied in advance.”

A few weeks ago, he’d signed up to get a hand-me-down uniform. These days people didn’t really keep or pass down uniforms, so he hadn’t expected much. But apparently one person had donated one in the right size, so he planned to check it out.

If it doesn’t fit... I’ll just buy one.

He had enough saved up now to afford it. It just felt wasteful for something he’d only wear for three years.

Not that I’ll even get to wear it that long...

He placed the large gym clothes and the uniform into a shopping bag and stepped out of the room.

I should eat that cake before I go.

As he headed downstairs, Giyeon softened his footsteps upon hearing faint game sounds coming from the living room.

They’re here again.

His brother and the others had started coming over often now. Even on days without work, he’d leave the house or head to the library just to avoid them.

“...!”

His eyes lit up when he saw the tiramisu on the kitchen table. He liked most desserts, but tiramisu was one of his absolute favorites.

Just a bit more... just a little extra...

Dohoon didn’t even like tiramisu anyway, so Giyeon cut himself a slightly bigger slice and moved it to a plate.

That’s when—

“Giyeon.”

He flinched and turned around in shock.

It was Kwon Jongseok.

“You’re home today?”

He suddenly felt like a thief caught mid-heist, stealing cake that wasn’t his.

“Yeah... I’m heading out soon.”

“Where to?”

“Oh, just... somewhere.”

He mumbled evasively. Jongseok had never cared about his whereabouts before, so this question caught him off guard.

“I heard you and Dohoon had a fight lately, so you’ve been avoiding him. He’s kind of hurt, you know.”

“Huh?”

A fight?

The words didn’t make sense. Giyeon tilted his head in confusion. But Jongseok, not noticing, glanced at the tiramisu and smiled.

“Take that and apologize to Dohoon. I’ll help smooth things over.”

“No...”

What would I even be apologizing for?

Before he could ask, Jongseok had already taken him by the hand and led him into the living room.

“Tch.”

Leaning against the couch, Dohoon purposely avoided looking at him, even after seeing him.

“Giyeon says he has something to say.”

“Something to say, huh? Must’ve gone crying to you.”

“What did he do this time that pissed you off again?”

Choi Mujin scoffed, shaking his head. Dohoon looked away in disgust, and Jongseok kept nudging Giyeon toward an apology.

“......”

In the middle of it all, Giyeon’s mind slowly quieted—growing cold, clear.

None of them noticed.

“Go on, Giyeon. Say it.”

“Jongseok hyung.”

His voice was calm, steady.

“What exactly am I apologizing for?”

It wasn’t an accusation. It was a sincere question. Jongseok looked momentarily taken aback, but then smiled, as always, trying to soothe him.

“You’re mad? I just thought you two had fought and I’d help patch things up.”

“I’ve never fought with him. Not once.”

It was true.

Dohoon had lashed out countless times, but Giyeon had never once yelled back—at him or at anyone. He had always taken the blame.

In this house, whenever anything went wrong, it was always his fault. That’s why all these suppressed emotions were finally surfacing now.

“And if he’s angry... why is that my fault?”

Resentment. Regret. Bitterness. All of it, finally taking shape.

“I don’t understand why I should be the one apologizing.”

For the first time, he was telling the truth. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted an answer. Why had everything always been pinned on him?

“Ha Giyeon...”

Dohoon stood from the couch and slowly approached him, sensing something was wrong.

But Mujin cut in.

“Whatever happened, it’s obviously your fault. Who else pisses him off like you do?”

“Shut up, Choi Mujin. Ha Giyeon, you—”

“Giyeon, are you upset because I told you to apologize? I just thought it’d be hard for you to say it first, so I helped. Don’t be mad.”

“...Ah.”

So that’s all it was.

To them, he was someone they could lash out at, trample on, ignore at will. A joke. A scapegoat.

The red in his eyes had long since faded to something cold.

...I feel sick.

He didn’t want to be here anymore.

He turned abruptly to leave.

Grab.

“Hey—!”

CRASH!

Dohoon had grabbed his shoulder too roughly, causing the tiramisu to smear all over his clothes. Whipped cream and cocoa powder covered his shirt and pants, and the plate shattered on the floor.

“......”

“...Oh.”

Even Dohoon looked genuinely startled for once. Giyeon stood in silence, expressionless, staring down at the mess.

The room fell silent.

Then—

“Pfft—ahahahaha!”

“Pff...!”

Mujin and Jongseok burst into laughter. Of course they did. Watching Giyeon get humiliated was always funny to them.

“Hey...”

But not to Dohoon. Not this time.

Because this time, Giyeon’s face—stained, tired, hollow—wasn’t one of embarrassment. It wasn’t forced shame.

It was pure exhaustion. Disgust. Done with everything.

“Ha Giyeon...”

Even as Dohoon reached toward him, Giyeon looked sick of it.

“Oh no, the plate—are you two okay?”

The housekeeper, just coming in through the front door, rushed over in alarm.

“Sorry. I dropped it by accident...”

“It’s fine. More importantly, you need to clean up and change.”

Still apologizing, Giyeon left the room without looking back.

“Giyeon, wait a sec—”

Dohoon called after him, but he didn’t respond. Upstairs, Giyeon changed clothes in the second-floor bathroom. As he stared at the whipped cream smeared across his black shirt, he laughed bitterly.

“Still the same. I haven’t changed at all...”

If he was being honest, seeing his brothers again had made his heart race. He’d been excited. Happy.

People would probably call him pathetic, but he had grown up beside them, from childhood into adulthood. They’d teased and hurt him—but they were part of his memories. His first loves.

So he’d missed them.

But...

Maybe it wasn’t longing after all.

Maybe to them, the time they’d spent together had never been anything worth remembering.

“...Haha.”

He didn’t expect to feel like this again after coming back.

He still hadn’t escaped the past. He still flinched at small sounds in his sleep. He still blocked his door with a chair. Still fell asleep clutching his phone.

He still lived in that goshiwon, in his mind.

To feel longing while standing in front of the people he once called family...

Then what was I feeling all that time?

...Maybe it wasn’t longing at all.

***

For once, Ha Dohoon threw the others out of the house.

“Get lost.”

“The hell’s your problem? I even helped you patch things up with your brother.”

“Giyeon’s just being stubborn now. He’ll have no choice but to talk to us at school.”

“Still not leaving?”

Only when Dohoon hurled a glass at the floor did they finally shut up and leave, clicking their tongues in annoyance.

Now alone, he stared at the whipped cream still on his hand before heading upstairs.

“...Ha.”

Stopping in front of Giyeon’s door, he couldn’t bring himself to barge in like usual. He just stood there.

He had always taken Giyeon’s apologies for granted.

Because from the very beginning, that’s how it had always been.

But when he saw the empty, lifeless look in Giyeon’s eyes today—he realized something was wrong.

Why... have I always... expected him to apologize?

He couldn’t get that whipped-cream-covered figure out of his head.

“...Shit.”

No helping it now.

He pulled out his phone from his pocket and made a call.