Unrequited Love Thresher-Chapter 1: Regret and Return

My Crush Is Completely, Utterly Screwed.

Every single one of them.

What even is a crush, anyway? It’s a one-sided affair—love that blooms in the void between people.

And all of mine? All of my crushes had one thing in common.

They were all my brother’s friends.

My brother was the kind of person who looked like he’d stepped out of a drama—or maybe an idol group. He had the looks, the brains, and the kind of effortless talent that made people seethe with envy. Every time he went out, he came back with a stack of business cards. No joke, even our parents casually asked if he’d ever considered becoming an actor.

He was one of those people who didn’t have to try. He aced his classes, crushed it in sports, drew like a pro, played instruments like he was born with them. He’d pick something up once and somehow know it better than people who studied for years.

...Not that I’m here to brag about him.

The point is, for whatever reason—maybe like attracts like—he had really hot friends. Stunning, model-tier guys he’d bring home without warning. I still remember the first time he brought two of them over after starting elementary school. I was so shocked I thought my brain short-circuited.

“You’re Dohoon’s little brother?”

“You’re kinda cute.”

“You look nothing like him.”

They stared at me. I just stood there, mouth half open like an idiot.

Were they... trying to debut as an idol group or something?

I was so shaken I just stood there for ages. Only when they’d left did I snap back to reality.

That was the moment I realized it.

I’m a hopeless sucker for beautiful people.

But to be fair, it wasn’t just about their looks. Sure, I was attracted at first because they were hot, but that wasn't the end of it. What really hit me were the things they did—the way they treated me.

It was my brother, Ha Dohoon, who dragged me out into the world when I couldn’t fit in with kids my age. It was his friend, Kwon Jongseok, who picked me up when I fell and wiped my tears. And it was Choi Mujin who saved me when I was on the verge of being bullied.

Jongseok-hyung, with that soft smile and warm hand reaching out. Mujin-hyung, who acted tough and ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ spoke rough but secretly looked out for me. And of course, my brother—the person I admired the most in the world.

Like a duckling trailing after its mother, I followed them around everywhere.

“Dohoon, your little brother’s here again.”

“Ugh... what a pain.”

“Leave him. It’s funny.”

They thought I was annoying, always chasing after them, begging to play.

I mean, I get it. They were two years older. Playing with some clingy little kid wasn’t exactly thrilling.

Eventually, they started avoiding me—hiding, running away. But then something shifted. They decided to play along... their way.

They started pulling pranks.

And not even clever ones.

Like making me the seeker in hide-and-seek and then just going home. Or spraying me with water guns so it looked like I pissed myself, and telling everyone in the neighborhood. Or burying stuff in the sand and pretending they lost it so I’d dig for it.

One time it was marbles. Yeah. That one hurt.

They thought I was a pain in the ass. Sometimes they’d play with me out of pity, but it always turned back into teasing.

But no matter what they did, I couldn’t hate them.

I loved how they smiled at me. How their hands ruffled my hair.

So, even after getting into the same high school, I kept chasing them. Seeing them in the hallway made my heart race. I was desperate for just one word.

It didn’t take long after that for me to realize how I felt.

My first confession.

I’d been holding it in ever since freshman year. Finally, I spat it out.

“I think you’ve got the wrong idea, Giyeon. I’ve never seen you that way. And I never will.”

He shot me down—hard.

I guess I was the idiot for mistaking his casual touches for something more. To him, I was just a kid. A little brother.

After that, Kwon Jongseok said we should just keep things friendly. And I agreed, even though it killed me inside.

My second confession.

I swore I wouldn’t confess again. But feelings don’t just die when you tell them to.

Things got awkward with Jongseok-hyung after that, so I started gravitating toward Choi Mujin.

He’d always scowl and tell me not to cling to him, but still made room beside him. He even helped me hide from Jongseok once.

He was rough, but the little glimpses of kindness... they were nice. Really nice. Even after he graduated, he’d drop by to see me sometimes.

It took me a year to get over Jongseok.

But by senior year, I fell again—like a dumbass.

A few months before graduation, when there was talk I might study abroad like my brother, I panicked. I clung to Mujin and confessed.

“Fuck... what the hell... Don’t say creepy shit like that. Get lost.”

Another brutal rejection.

And this time, before I even had time to cry about it, something worse happened.

I got kicked out of the house the moment I graduated.

Just like some soap opera trainwreck, I was told I wasn’t even their real son.

I mean—what? Are you serious?

I didn’t even get the full story. I was just thrown out.

College? No chance.

Dumped by my family.

Thrown out of the house.

Every crush I’d ever had ended in flames.

I spent a whole month in a tiny goshiwon, totally out of it, before I snapped and enlisted in the army. I had no money, nowhere to stay. I felt like if I didn’t move, if I didn’t do something, I was going to die.

After getting discharged, I pulled myself together and started working—any job I could find. Construction. Factories. Logistics centers.

But sometimes, my mind would wander.

Back to those days I spent hopelessly in love.

If I’d spent that time studying instead.

If I’d thought about making money.

If I’d planned anything about my future.

God, what a waste.

I finally understood just how fucking precious that time had been—how stupid I was for wasting it on crushes that were never going to happen.

On my twenty-ninth birthday, I stuck a wooden chopstick into an expired convenience store pastry like a makeshift candle and made a wish.

That if I ever got another chance—I’d never live like that again.

“Fwoo—.”

I blew out the flame and bit into the dry-ass bread.

And then, I went back in time.

What, from eating bread?

No. I got hit by a car. Dead. Instant.

Woke up in the winter of my third year of middle school.

Right before my first confession.

Chapter 1: Regret and Return

I can’t say I never thought about dying.

After getting kicked out of the house, it crossed my mind... more than once. Honestly, it was almost a daily thing.

But still—thinking about it and actually dying are two different things. I never imagined I’d go out like that. So fast. So stupid. A death that felt more empty than tragic.

And the last thought I had before it happened?

“I don’t even have a family anymore... What’s going to happen to my body?”

No one to hold a funeral. No one to claim the corpse.

Regret, helplessness, fear—they all bled out of me along with the warmth of my blood, cooling as they spilled out onto the road.

...That should’ve been the end.

“Is this real...?”

Ha Giyeon stared into the mirror and ran his fingers over his reflection for the hundredth time.

That face—baby-smooth, barely past puberty—was unmistakably his. But way younger.

The moment he opened his eyes, he’d frozen. He stayed that way for hours, paralyzed. He tried pulling his hair out to wake himself up, but all he got was a sore scalp.

“There’s no way...”

He could still feel the cold asphalt beneath him. That definitely wasn’t a dream. No fucking way.

He grabbed his phone from the desk. It was the same model he used back in middle school. Clunky and small, awkward in his hand. He powered it on and started frantically googling.

“I died. I’m sure I died, but now I’m awake and—ugh...”

He stopped mid-sentence, realizing how ridiculous this was. What was he expecting Google to say?

The search results were about what you’d expect: “Delusional Disorder,” “Eighth Grader Syndrome,” “Awaken Your Inner Dragon”—pure crap.

It all felt like some half-baked webtoon plot. freewёbnoνel.com

“Wait...”

Dozens of titles from novelkisss and webtoons flashed through his head.

“I Regressed Into an S-Class Hero,” “Possessed by a Chaebol’s Son,” “The Child Actor Returns...”

Regression. Reincarnation. Possession. Time travel.

He used to binge-read regression novels. Especially after getting kicked out of the house. Living alone, empty inside, he’d turn on dramas or scroll through novelkisss just to shut his brain off and forget about them.

Back then, everyone was obsessed with the whole “regress-restart-rebuild” genre—where a loser gets a second shot at life and makes it big.

Giyeon loved that idea. The fantasy of fixing your mistakes, rewriting your past.

Because he had mistakes he wanted to fix, too.

He used to envy those protagonists.

Now?

“Ha...”

He was one of them.

He couldn’t stop himself from grinning like an idiot. His lips curled up, trembling with excitement.

The past—and now, his new future.

He’d come back.

Right back to the place that would become his personal hell.

****

Giyeon sat down at his desk and started pulling together everything he could remember.

There were two events that wrecked his life: two confessions.

The first one happened in the winter of his first year of high school.

But right now? He was just about to start high school.

“That was close...”

If he’d come back any later, he would’ve landed after that confession—and right into the awkward mess that followed.

He flipped through the calendar on his desk, checking for the start of the new school year. March 4th was circled.

[Hwaguk High School Entrance Day!]

“...”

He’d even gone and highlighted it with multiple colors.

Looking back at last year’s calendar, he saw tons of notes about hanging out with his brother’s friends. Their birthdays were marked. Big stars and hearts.

His own birthday? Not even a dot.

He tore the calendar down, crumpled it, and dumped it in the trash. Then he opened the calendar app on his phone and typed in the school entrance date.

“No way I can transfer, huh...”

Not like his parents would listen anyway.

Getting tangled up with his brother and his friends again? Yeah, no thanks.

“Oh...”

He suddenly remembered something Ha Dohoon, his brother, had told him right before starting high school:

“Don’t talk to me at school. It’s embarrassing.”

Even after hearing that, Giyeon had waved and smiled at his brother every time they crossed paths.

He was ignored, mocked, and even shoulder-checked in the hallway.

“People talked shit behind my back for trying to act close with them...”

Looking back, he wondered if his brother had always known he wasn’t really family. Maybe his parents felt it too—he’d never once felt truly cared for.

They looked at him like he was a stranger.

Three years from now, it would all come out: he wasn’t their biological son. And they’d kick him out.

“I’ve gotta start studying. Like, hardcore.”

Before the regression, he hadn’t cared about school at all.

His parents didn’t give a damn about his grades. He was too busy tailing his brother around like a lost dog to bother with studying.

But after getting kicked out? Every time he worked some shitty, back-breaking job, he missed school like hell.

He even tried studying for college entrance exams. Got serious about it.

Then he died.

“Money comes first, though.”

That was the first thing he learned after being thrown out.

What matters in this world—what keeps you alive—is money.

He’d never worked a part-time job before, so when he finally did, he got yelled at. A lot. Fired from more than a few gigs for screwing things up.

He only got used to working after being knocked down a few hundred times.

“I’ll start saving. Get a part-time job...”

And invest in Bitcoin.

During his old labor jobs, he used to hear middle-aged guys talk endlessly about stocks and crypto.

He never tried investing himself, but he knew enough to recognize good timing when he saw it.

“Gotta start small with Bitcoin...”

He needed to rack up as much cash as possible before getting kicked out again. Who knew how much of the future would change?

Time was ticking.

“Haa...”

Now that he’d set his plan, he finally looked around his room. It was familiar but not... comforting.

His brother’s room had been decorated carefully by their parents. Every little detail chosen with care.

His own room? Thrown together by their dad’s secretary. It looked like an afterthought.

“Well... better than a goshiwon, I guess.”

At least it had four walls and a ceiling.

He stood up and stepped outside.

“Was it always this fancy?”

The wallpaper was a classic European design. The floor was shiny white marble. He headed downstairs, and a massive crystal chandelier glimmered above the living room.

He’d lived here his whole life... and yet it felt like a stranger’s house.

“...Guess I used to live pretty well.”

He checked the time. It was already 5:30 in the morning. The sky was turning gray.

He made his way to the kitchen.

It was already lit. Chopping sounds, water boiling—someone was up early.

A middle-aged woman turned at the sound of footsteps.

The housekeeper.

“Oh! You're up early, Giyeon.”

“Ah... yeah. I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

He rubbed his neck awkwardly, trying to smile.

She smiled back gently.

“Would you like some tea?”

“Um... Could I maybe have breakfast instead?”

“Already?”

“Just something simple. Like some soup with rice... or rice with soy sauce or pepper paste. I’m starving.”

Her eyes widened.

A boy raised in a mansion asking for rice with soy sauce? She thought she misheard.

She was already prepping a twelve-dish Korean breakfast, but this... this surprised her more.

Even more surprising:

“Not eating with the family?”

Ha Giyeon had always waited for them.

Even when his parents and Dohoon skipped meals because they were “too busy,” Giyeon would wait, every time. The housekeeper always felt bad seeing him eat alone like that.

“It’s fine. Doesn’t matter if I wait—they never come.”

“...”

“If it’s too much trouble, I can just take something quick to my room.”

He didn’t want to be a bother. Bread would’ve been fine. Anything to fill his stomach.

“No way! Sit at the table. Just ten minutes.”

She practically pushed him into a chair and moved like a well-oiled machine.

Giyeon sat still, watching her.

“She’s faster than the school cafeteria ladies...”

Her knife skills were crazy. It was kind of mesmerizing.

More than that, her presence made him feel warm. Familiar.

He knew she felt bad for him. They didn’t talk much, but he’d never forgotten the last meal she gave him before he left the house for good.

He’d tried to sneak out at dawn, too ashamed to face anyone.

But she’d stopped him. With the gentlest touch.

“Giyeon, eat before you go.”

She was the only warmth in that freezing morning.

“You can’t do anything on an empty stomach.”

She’d fed him a full meal, packed a lunch, and then hugged him as he rolled his suitcase out the front gate.

“Giyeon... Make sure you eat well. And be healthy, no matter where you end up.”

She was the only person who had ever said his name with real kindness. Not his mom. Not his dad. Just her.

He hadn’t forgotten that moment—not even right before he died.

“These are leftovers from yesterday, but I heated them up.”

Tamago-yaki, seasoned tofu, steaming galbijjim, and beef radish soup.

The second he saw that soup, his throat tightened. It was the exact dish she’d made for him that day.

“It’s just a quick breakfast, but tell me if you want anything else, okay?”

“Thank you...”

He took a spoonful of soup.

It had been so long since he’d tasted something warm—something real.

Not convenience store kimbap. Not cheap ramen. Real food. Made with care.

And for the life of him, he couldn’t understand how he never appreciated this before.

“...”

“Giyeon...?”

He couldn’t stop crying as he ate, and the housekeeper rushed to wipe his tears.

“Oh no, you’ll choke—slow down.”

“Y-Yeah... Thank you...”

Tears streamed down his cheeks, but he kept eating.

Just having a chance to eat her food again...

It made him so damn happy.