Unrequited Love Thresher-Chapter 38: Why the Hell

Ever since entering high school, Ha Dohoon rarely came home.

Sure, part of it was because there was nothing to do at home besides gaming—but the biggest reason was Ha Giyeon. Since Giyeon, who was now in middle school, had started spending more time alone at home, he clung even more than before, which led Dohoon to start staying out more often.

Even when Giyeon showed signs of being hurt by it, Dohoon ignored him.

Anyway, once Giyeon entered the same high school as him, he'd start clinging again just like before.

But who would have imagined? That Ha Giyeon would be the one who came home even less than him. That he, Ha Dohoon, would end up the one waiting for him. At first, pride wounded, he wandered around aimlessly too.

But nothing was fun. No matter what he did, he kept thinking of Giyeon, and it was driving him insane. He wondered if Giyeon had come home while he was out, worried that maybe he was sleeping somewhere else entirely. As much as he wanted to ride home with him, Giyeon was always gone from the classroom by the time he arrived. And he didn’t want to go so far as to swallow his pride to make him get in the car—especially since the kid insisted on not taking rides.

It would’ve been embarrassing if someone saw.

So instead, he did something he rarely did: sent a text. Whenever he asked what he was doing, the answer was always a half-assed “studying,” which annoyed him, but at least he answered—and that gave him some relief.

Until yesterday.

“Haah... Fuck.”

Ha Dohoon stared at his phone, which still hadn’t received a reply, then tossed it aside and slumped back on the couch. It /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ was almost 9 PM, and Giyeon still wasn’t home.

Back when Dohoon had just started high school, there were times he came home even later than this. And every time, Giyeon would be curled up on the living room sofa, waiting.

“Hyung, you’re home?”

He’d say it with a sleepy, rumpled face, smiling. It had always felt so absurd—waiting there even knowing he’d be late.

“Was Giyeon like this too...”

Staring up at the ceiling, the house suddenly felt disgustingly big to Ha Dohoon. He’d always thought the house was neither small nor large—just the right size to live in. But Giyeon would often say it was huge. That being alone in it scared him.

“Back then I thought that was such bullshit...”

But now he kind of got it.

Parents who rarely came home or were always late from work. Household staff who moved without a sound. A silent house, empty of people, yet lit brightly by untouched lights.

“This is pissing me off.”

He shut his eyes, staring up at the chandelier, and instead let himself picture Giyeon—specifically, the last time they talked.

“You don’t have to pretend we’re close brothers.”

Ha Dohoon hadn’t been able to hold onto the version of Giyeon who was growing further away. That line—“pretending to be close brothers”—had hit him like a brick.

He’d thought about it over and over, but he just couldn’t agree with what Giyeon said. If they weren’t close brothers, then what were they?

It’s not like they ever beat each other up like other siblings. They never cussed each other out.

Giyeon called him “hyung,” followed him around, and he looked out for him—bought him clothes. Giyeon even got him birthday presents. More than anything, he thought Giyeon respected and loved him.

So how the hell could that be just pretending to be brothers?

Ha Dohoon hadn’t realized it yet: once the person giving love turns their back, there is no such thing as a “good sibling.” Everything had only been held together because Ha Giyeon had tried.

“...Ha.”

Unable to endure the silence any longer, Dohoon got up to go to his room. If Giyeon came back, he needed to have a proper talk with him.

That’s when it happened.

Ding-dong—the sound of the intercom at the front door rang through the house. The housekeeper in the kitchen headed for the entrance, while Dohoon turned and walked toward the stairs.

It couldn’t be Ha Giyeon; he could let himself in. So he didn’t pay much attention.

Just as he was about to step onto the stairs, his phone vibrated. He pulled it from his pocket, looked at the screen, and clicked his tongue before answering.

“What.”

—Come out.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

—I said come out.

Click. The call cut off.

Dohoon stared blankly at the name on the screen. What the hell was this guy’s problem, calling out of nowhere and demanding he come outside?

He had zero intention of indulging someone who only said what they wanted and hung up. He ignored the call and continued up the stairs.

That’s when he heard someone enter the front door. Glancing over, he saw—

“...What the hell now.”

A man in a suit stepped inside, both hands full of shopping bags, led in by the housekeeper.

“Should I take these to Ha Giyeon-nim’s room?”

“Yes, to the second floor—”

“Hold on. What’s all that?”

Dohoon pointed at the bags. Judging by the logos dangling off the man’s arms, they were clearly luxury brands.

“Choi Mujin-ssi said they’re for Ha Giyeon-nim.”

“Choi Mujin? ...He bought all that?”

“Yes. After school today, young master went to the department store with Ha Giyeon-nim and bought all of it.”

The idea that Choi Mujin had gifted all of that to Ha Giyeon made Dohoon laugh in disbelief. He’d barely ever gone shopping with Giyeon himself—and even when he did, the brat would just leave the stuff behind. But now Mujin took him shopping? And gave him presents?

“So Giyeon actually accepted all that...?”

Dohoon snorted. He’d gotten ignored even after gifting clothes—yet Giyeon had gone off and shopped all happy with Mujin?

Grinding his teeth, Dohoon marched back down the stairs and out the front door. Before going, he told the housekeeper not to bring the bags into the room.

As he stepped out past the gate, there stood Choi Mujin, leaning casually against the wall. When Dohoon approached, Mujin stood up straight and looked him in the eye.

“Hey. What the hell is all that? You took Giyeon to the department store?”

“...”

“What the hell gives you the right to buy him that crap? You think Giyeon’s some charity case?”

“...”

Mujin stared straight into Dohoon’s eyes and spoke in a low voice.

“The charity case, fucker, is how you treat Giyeon.”

Whack—with a loud crack, Dohoon’s head turned to the side. The punch had come from none other than Choi Mujin. Stunned for a second, Dohoon recovered quickly and grabbed Mujin’s second punch, then landed one of his own on Mujin’s cheek.

Mujin let out a dry laugh and grabbed Dohoon by the collar. Dohoon seized his as well.

“You insane?”

“You’re the insane one.”

Dohoon stared at Mujin, who looked like he’d lost it. But the anger rising in his own chest made it hard to stay calm.

Mujin’s eyes burned red as he glared at him.

“I know you treat Giyeon like shit. But beating the kid? Fuck, that’s going too far.”

“...What?”

“I didn’t say anything ‘cause it’s your family, not mine. But no matter how I think about it, I just can’t wrap my head around it. You. Your parents. Why the hell are all of you so hell-bent on fucking up Ha Giyeon?”

“What the... You’re saying I hit Giyeon? What the hell kind of bullshit—” free𝑤ebnovel.com

“The bruises on his arms and back. That was you, wasn’t it?”

Bruises...? Dohoon suddenly felt the heat in his head drain away. Speechless, eyes wide, he froze. Seeing the reaction, Mujin asked again.

“What, are you pretending not to know, or do you actually not know?”

“Bruises on his arms and back—what are you even talking about?”

“Green bruises. On his back and arms. You live in the same house and didn’t know? So it was you, wasn’t it?”

“What the fuck...”

Bruises meant he’d been hit or slammed into something. And the way Mujin phrased it—“you hit him”—implied this was definitely an injury from violence.

Where the hell...?

The image of someone hitting Giyeon flashed through Dohoon’s mind and made his fists clench. He tasted blood as he bit the inside of his cheek.

Mujin, seeing Dohoon’s expression change, loosened his grip on his collar.

“...What the hell. It really wasn’t you? Fuck, then who the hell was it—”

“Explain it to me. Now, asshole.”

Mujin roughly told him what had happened at the department store. And as the details about the bruises grew more specific, Dohoon’s eyes began to flood with murderous rage.

More than why someone had hit Giyeon, all he could think about was wanting to kill the bastard who did it.

“So you seriously don’t know who it was?”

“Shit... I came here thinking it was you, you dumb fuck. Think. Who the hell could hit Giyeon?”

Dohoon ran his hand through his hair and muttered curses. No one came to mind. With him around, who would even dare?

“Don’t tell me... your parents—?”

“Watch it.”

Now that was complete bullshit. His parents weren’t the type to lash out just because they were angry. And they didn’t scold people unless they gave a damn in the first place. With Giyeon, they were the definition of indifference.

“Then you figure it out. Ask him directly. What if he gets beat up again and just takes it like a dumbass?”

“Stay the fuck out of it. I’ll handle it.”

With that, Dohoon turned and went back inside. He sat and thought. And thought again.

Who could’ve hit Ha Giyeon?

And still not finding an answer... he waited.

“Who the hell hit you?”

“...What the hell are you even talking about all of a sudden?”

Giyeon’s head began to ache—first from the pile of shopping bags on his bed, and now from Dohoon spouting random crap the moment he barged in.

He needed to sort through this.

First: the shopping bags in his room weren’t gifts for Mujin’s cousin, but stuff Mujin actually bought for him. And after seeing the bruises on his back, Mujin assumed someone had beaten him—and told Ha Dohoon?

“I told you I wasn’t hit. Why the hell would he go tell Dohoon...?”

Feeling the fatigue crash down on him, Ha Giyeon let out a long sigh.