Unrequited Love Thresher-Chapter 66: That Place Is the Same No Matter Where You Go

Choi Mujin intended to check on Ha Giyeon’s leg the moment he got to school.

He had wrapped a bandage around the knee, but it wasn’t the kind of injury one could just endure with that. It was a deep wound—deep enough that it should’ve been stitched up at the hospital.

Judging by Ha Giyeon’s actions and condition, it was obvious he hadn’t gone—unless Ha Dohoon had found out. So Choi Mujin had already decided he would take Ha Giyeon to the hospital, even if it meant making him leave school without permission.

At this point, when he was already hated, what would it matter to be hated a little more? If Ha Dohoon or his parents tried to say anything to Ha Giyeon, he was prepared to step in and block them himself.

It was rare for someone as headstrong as Choi Mujin to actually make a plan.

It was all because Ha Giyeon had appeared in his dreams all night. In the dream, Giyeon was lying on the floor, bleeding from his arms and legs, crying. But he didn’t make a sound—only tears fell from his eyes. freewebnøvel.com

Mujin had tried to rush toward him, to reach him, but he woke up right then and there. Maybe it was because of seeing Giyeon bleed the day before—because of that disturbing dream, all of Mujin’s nerves were fixated on Giyeon’s injury from the moment he woke up.

So before finding Ha Giyeon, he first went to Ha Dohoon’s class to test whether Dohoon knew anything about it.

“What? Ha Dohoon’s not here?”

“Uh... I heard he’s absent because of family matters.”

Well, that wasn’t so surprising. Ha Dohoon often skipped school. But what got on Mujin’s nerves was the fact that Ha Giyeon hadn’t shown up either.

“Uh... did they say it was allergies? I heard he was absent because he’s sick.”

“Allergies?”

Did Ha Giyeon have allergies? What surprised Mujin was that Giyeon hadn’t missed school because of his leg, but because of something completely different. The sudden mention of allergies made Mujin immediately call Ha Dohoon. The bastard didn’t pick up several times, but when he finally answered, the first thing he said was that Ha Giyeon had been hospitalized.

Mujin cursed and snapped back with sharp words, his temper flaring.

“What the hell is wrong with your family and how you treat Ha Giyeon?”

From his reaction, it seemed like he didn’t even know Giyeon had injured his leg. This guy—this bastard—was family? A brother? Why had Giyeon ever followed someone like that around?

Mujin told his father’s secretary to find out which hospital Giyeon had been admitted to, then left school and headed straight for the hospital room. He didn’t know why, but his heart pounded with anxiety the whole way there.

When Choi Mujin arrived at the hospital room, he didn’t open the door right away. Instead, he peered in through the small window on the door.

There was Ha Giyeon, leaning against the bed.

He had grown noticeably gaunter, and his complexion looked terrible. He was staring out the window, his eyes completely lifeless. The emptiness in those eyes made Mujin suddenly panic. Without thinking, he pushed the door open hard.

Thud—Mujin strode into the room.

Ha Giyeon turned his head from the window toward him, and his eyes widened in surprise.

“Mujin hyung...?”

The voice that barely came out was hoarse. Mujin furrowed his brows. It looked as though someone had strangled him. His throat seemed swollen from the allergy, but how had his family let him get to this point without noticing? Mujin had arrived worked up and ready to explode with anger, but seeing Giyeon’s face instantly extinguished it.

He looked like he’d faint just from someone raising their voice. How could anyone yell in the face of that? And besides, it wasn’t even Giyeon’s fault.

Uncharacteristically calm, Mujin sat down in the visitor’s chair, and Giyeon cautiously asked,

“What are you doing here, hyung?”

“What, am I not allowed to come?”

“Ah... it’s just, it’s school hours right now...”

Seeing that Giyeon felt awkward, Mujin ran his fingers through his hair and changed the subject.

“What happened? What the hell did you eat that landed you in the hospital?”

“...I accidentally ate something I’m allergic to...”

“What and where? Were you eating with your family?”

“I was eating at a restaurant and made a mistake, that’s all.”

Just a little mistake, and now he was hospitalized, his throat so swollen he could barely speak?

Mujin pressed again.

“What did you eat, and where exactly?”

“...”

Even as Mujin persistently questioned him, Ha Giyeon clamped his mouth shut. It wasn’t something he needed to tell him. No, it was something he couldn’t tell him. His parents might say he was going around blabbing, boasting even. Giyeon held his tongue as much as possible.

Though he didn’t get an answer, Mujin didn’t yell or push him further. Instead, he shifted the question.

“What are you allergic to?”

“Seafood.”

“Seafood?”

This was the first time Mujin had heard that Ha Giyeon had a seafood allergy. He tried to remember if Giyeon had ever eaten seafood while hanging out with them.

No, more than that—he couldn’t clearly recall ever seeing Giyeon enjoy a meal with them. Instead of eating and chatting, the image that came to mind was of Giyeon busily taking care of them like the restaurant ajumma.

‘Shit, how would I know anything if I don’t even have a proper memory of it.’

He couldn’t even remember clearly what they’d eaten together.

...Did his parents or Ha Dohoon know about the allergy?

“Do your parents or Ha Dohoon know?”

“They probably did...?”

That vague answer made Mujin’s face twist with rage. So it was true—they really hadn’t known. How the hell do you not know your own child has an allergy? They sure seemed to know all about Ha Dohoon’s allergy, though.

But then again, Mujin was the same. He knew Ha Dohoon had a peanut allergy, but this was the first he’d heard about Giyeon’s seafood allergy.

Of course it was the family’s fault for not knowing, but Giyeon was also too naive for never bringing it up.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Uh... to who?”

“What do you mean, who? To your parents, your brother—or me, at least...”

“There’s no reason to say anything, is there?”

Giyeon tilted his head slightly, a look of genuine confusion on his face.

He didn’t understand why people kept asking why he hadn’t spoken up. It wasn’t that he’d never said anything. When he was younger, his symptoms had shown clearly, and the housekeeper had even told them directly.

So what else was there to say now? Was he supposed to demand they remember? Be hurt over it? None of that was necessary.

Just the fact that he wasn’t their biological son was enough of a reason. It explained everything. And besides, there was no reason for him to say anything to Choi Mujin either. He was just another outsider.

Then why was Mujin making that face? His expression was somewhere between hurt and resentful as he turned his head sharply away.

‘Fucking ridiculous...’

Mujin bit down on his lip. There wasn’t a single thing Giyeon said that was wrong. No matter how close they got, they were still strangers. No matter how hard Mujin tried, he could never be a real brother like Ha Dohoon.

No matter how much they mistreated him, Ha Dohoon was still Giyeon’s brother, and those people were still his blood relatives. That would never change. Knowing that made Mujin feel miserable.

Ha Giyeon was so different from them—so not like them. Why was he their family at all? If only it were like a drama or a /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ movie and he wasn’t their real son.

If he had been Mujin’s brother, at least he wouldn’t have ended up lying there like this.

Yeah, if that were the case, then...

“Do you want to live at my place?”

The words slipped out of Mujin’s mouth. He hadn’t fully thought it through—his mouth just moved on its own. But he had no intention of taking it back.

Someone like Ha Giyeon—he could ask his father to buy a house and take him in. He’d just accept the house promised for graduation a little early. Then Giyeon wouldn’t get hurt anymore. He could live safely and comfortably in his own home.

But Giyeon firmly shook his head.

“I’ll... stay here.”

“Why? If you stay there, you’ll—!”

“It’s the same no matter where I go.”

Whether he stayed in that house, a goshiwon, or someone else’s place—Ha Giyeon would always be a pushed-aside outsider. So of course he didn’t welcome Mujin’s offer.

“...Fucking idiot.”

Mujin stood up and turned away.

Giyeon probably couldn’t let go because they were family. Even after being treated like this, he would still cling to them.

Feeling that hit as reality, Mujin was overcome by a strange mix of jealousy and hurt.

He muttered he was leaving and stormed out of the hospital room, and Giyeon, watching him go, slowly lay back down.

He’d rather be in dreams than face this reality.

***

Ha Giyeon decided to be discharged.

It wasn’t because he was feeling better, or because of money. It was entirely because of Ha Dohoon and their parents.

Ha Dohoon had been coming in and out of his room, and whenever it was mealtime, he personally brought Giyeon porridge and sat there watching him eat. The whole thing made Giyeon so uncomfortable he nearly choked on the food. Occasionally, Dohoon tried to talk to him, but Giyeon either gave half-hearted replies or closed his eyes and ignored him.

When his parents came in, it was always when Giyeon was lying down with his eyes closed. They thought he was asleep, and they would stand around silently or brush his hair back. Every one of those gestures felt burdensome and disgusting. He couldn’t take it anymore.

It had been three days since he was hospitalized, but Giyeon had reached his limit. After finally convincing Dohoon to go to school, and with his parents off to work as usual, he finally had the room to himself.

That afternoon, Giyeon began to pack his things.

He figured his parents’ secretary would answer the phone, so he called to request discharge during a time he knew they’d be busy.

But unexpectedly, it was Lee Mihyun who picked up.

“You haven’t fully recovered. You should stay a little longer...”

“I don’t want to stay anymore. Please let me rest at home. Please.”

Lee Mihyun, who had initially been firm, eventually relented—on the condition that he take Secretary Kim’s car home.

With permission from the attending physician, Giyeon was allowed to leave. He was told Secretary Kim would be waiting out front, so he stepped out of the hospital.

What greeted him then was a torrential downpour.