Unrequited Love Thresher-Chapter 43: Sweet Tteokbokki

Led by Son Suhyeon’s hand, Ha Giyeon exited the school and looked at him walking ahead, using one hand to hide his flushed face.

It had been surprising enough that Suhyeon had kindly called him by name, but he never expected him to speak so coldly to Nam Taekyung. The one flustered by that tone had been Taekyung, while Suhyeon hadn’t just sounded cold—he’d practically seemed to hate him. It was strange. Most people around them liked Nam Taekyung, so seeing him treated so coldly felt bizarre.

To Ha Giyeon, that side of Son Suhyeon had looked downright admirable. Even after dying once, Giyeon was still struggling to escape everything, but Suhyeon just strode forward without hesitation.

Ha Giyeon wanted to become like him—walking forward with confidence, unshaken by others.

“...?”

Striding along, Suhyeon suddenly stopped and let go of Giyeon’s arm.

“Sorry...”

“N-no, it’s fine...!”

Worried that he might have grabbed too tightly, Suhyeon gently took Giyeon’s arm again and checked it. He held it so softly, with barely any pressure, fidgeting with concern, and for some reason, that made Giyeon feel a bit embarrassed.

Before his face could get any redder, he hurriedly spoke.

“S-Sunbae, what should we eat?”

“...Is there something you want?”

“I’m fine with anything... Ah, would it be okay to avoid seafood?”

“Doesn’t matter. You don’t like seafood?”

“I have to be careful because of allergies.”

Suhyeon slowly looked Giyeon up and down.

‘So that’s why he looked even thinner...’

He was already too skinny—he should be eating without being picky. If he couldn’t even eat seafood, how was he supposed to gain any weight?

Suhyeon looked at him with serious concern.

“...?”

Giyeon, flustered by the way Suhyeon was staring at him, darted his eyes away. Just looking at him made his face heat up. Trying to cool down, Giyeon shifted his thoughts to picking a lunch menu.

The others had mentioned pizza, chicken, tteokbokki...

“How about tteokbokki, Sunbae?”

“Sounds good. Let’s go.”

Suhyeon readily agreed, but there was a problem.

“Sunbae... um... I actually don’t know any places...”

Despite confidently suggesting tteokbokki, Ha Giyeon honestly didn’t know a single place to get it. In the past, he’d only gotten a few bites of what his brothers ordered for delivery. He’d never gone to a tteokbokki shop with a sibling or a friend.

He had delivered from one.

Should he look up a popular chain that the other kids liked?

‘Chain shops are probably expensive...’

If he could, he’d love to eat the tteokbokki from the food cart he went to before his regression. The tteokbokki and fishcake soup he’d eat after work had been incredible.

But he couldn’t bring Suhyeon to a place like that. If it were just him, fine—but he didn’t want to embarrass Suhyeon. Even if it cost a bit more, maybe he should pick a place with a lot of foot traffic.

Just as Giyeon was about to type tteokbokki into the search bar, Suhyeon cautiously offered,

“If you don’t know a place... there’s somewhere I’ve been before—do you want to try it...?”

Suhyeon, too, had never really eaten tteokbokki with a friend, so it made sense that he wouldn’t know about trendy chains. But there was a place he’d sometimes visit when he was craving something spicy—not a regular spot, but familiar.

“It’s kind of old... but the food’s...”

“I’d love to go! Really...!”

Giyeon nodded eagerly. As long as it wasn’t a pricey chain, anywhere was fine.

Seeing the excitement in Giyeon’s face, Suhyeon glanced at him and couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.

—

The place Suhyeon led him to was near his home. As they walked uphill through a sloping alley, they passed old houses and cracked walls. Following the wall, they soon came upon a small store with a faded old-fashioned sign. Judging by the open door and the stocked shelves inside, it was still in business.

When Suhyeon slowed his steps in front of it, Giyeon felt confused.

‘Do they sell tteokbokki here?’

The shop looked so run-down it barely seemed to sell anything at all. He looked around the store while trailing after Suhyeon. The tiny entrance was so low Suhyeon had to stoop just to get in. A soft bell jingled as they entered. Inside were three tables and a few small chairs. Giyeon awkwardly took a seat and checked the menu.

It was written on yellowed paper tacked to the wall.

‘It’s cheaper than the food cart from before...’

A serving of tteokbokki cost only 2,000 won. The sundae and fritters were cheap too, and Giyeon’s eyes sparkled for a moment.

Noticing that look, Suhyeon asked,

“Is this place okay...?”

“Yes, it’s great! Sunbae, how much should we order?”

Giyeon paid no mind to the rundown setting and excitedly browsed the menu, bringing a soft smile to Suhyeon’s face. Just then, the bell jingled again as a hunched-over elderly woman entered the shop.

“Oh my, Suhyeon’s here? And you brought a friend today.”

“He’s a junior I know... Exams are over, so we came to get tteokbokki.”

“Hello.”

Giyeon shot to his feet and gave a deep bow. The old woman smiled gently and said she’d make something tasty, then disappeared into the kitchen.

“Sunbae, do you come here often?”

“Not really... just sometimes.”

Suhyeon didn’t particularly like tteokbokki—not enough to go out of his way to buy it. For him, food was just about filling his stomach. He didn’t have favorite dishes.

The reason he’d come to this old snack shop at all was purely by chance. Before re-enrolling in school, he’d helped the old woman a few times as she struggled to push a cart full of boxes uphill. After a few such occasions, she insisted on treating him to tteokbokki in thanks.

Even though he declined, she brought it out anyway, and he couldn’t refuse. He’d ended up cleaning his plate. It was tastier and cheaper than he’d expected, and after that, he returned once in a while.

But this was the first time he’d ever brought someone else.

“Tteokbokki will be out soon, so have some fishcake and sundae first.”

The woman brought out a plate piled high with sundae and fishcake, then returned to the kitchen. Giyeon’s mouth dropped open at the generous portion.

“Wow...”

“She’s a little heavy-handed...”

The sight reminded Giyeon of the elderly man at a food cart who’d once piled food high for him, saying he was the last customer of the night. There’d been steaming fishcakes just like this...

Lost in memory, he picked up a fishcake and took a bite.

“...!”

The heat caught him off guard, and he quickly pulled it from his mouth before he could swallow.

“You okay?”

Suhyeon poured him a cup of cold water and passed it over. Giyeon drank, wincing from the sting on his tongue. He realized the sore spot from where he’d bitten it hadn’t healed yet. Though the ointment had helped, it still stung badly when he ate.

As he put the cup down, Suhyeon reached toward his lips.

“S-Sunbae...?”

“Say ‘ahh.’”

“Wha...?”

Before he could react, Suhyeon slipped his thumb into the small gap between his teeth. Giyeon froze, caught off guard, unable to bite down. Suhyeon ignored his expression and looked directly inside his mouth. On the side of his red tongue was a clotted scab.

“Looks torn... Did you bite it recently?”

“Uhm...”

“Huh...? Ah!”

Only after locking eyes with the wide-eyed Giyeon did Suhyeon snap out of it. His thumb was practically brushing against Giyeon’s tongue, which flinched and pulled away like it was trying to escape.

He could see it—Giyeon’s red tongue trembling faintly.

“Jeez... ‘a junior ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) I know,’ my ass...”

Hearing the old woman’s voice, Suhyeon hastily withdrew his hand, and Giyeon whipped his head to the side.

“Enough of the flirting, just eat the tteokbokki already.”

She placed the tteokbokki and fritters on the table, cleared her throat, and returned to the kitchen. Giyeon ducked his head so low it almost hit the table and started shoving fritters into his mouth. Suhyeon chugged cold water.

It had been an impulse. He’d treated Giyeon the way he used to care for the kids at the orphanage. They’d often get hit by the director, so he’d always check their mouths after they were slapped. If they grimaced, he’d look inside. He never imagined that reflex would kick in now—on Ha Giyeon, of all people.

That red tongue, trembling. The heat. The glistening saliva.

Smack!

“...?!”

Suhyeon clenched his jaw, raised his hand, and slapped his own cheek. Startled, Giyeon looked up sharply.

“S-Sunbae, your cheek...!”

“There was a mosquito.”

With his cheek flushed and eyes fixed on the air, Suhyeon muttered his excuse. Giyeon clamped his mouth shut and nodded.

Suhyeon picked up his chopsticks and started eating the tteokbokki, but his eyebrows kept twitching. He had no idea why the tteokbokki tasted so sweet today.

Then he looked over—Ha Giyeon, eyes faintly squinting from the sting, was chewing the spicy tteokbokki with his small mouth.

Suhyeon set his water cup in front of him.

“Rinse it in this.”

“It’s not too spicy...”

“I know it’s your tongue. Just eat a little tteokbokki and have something else.”

He placed a seaweed roll fritter on Giyeon’s plate. Despite the sting in his mouth, Giyeon smiled with his eyes crinkling, curling his lips into a grin. Suhyeon realized, belatedly, that he was treating Giyeon like a younger sibling again by handing him food—and felt embarrassed.

But then Giyeon widened his eyes and pushed a fried dumpling toward him.

“Sunbae, you should eat too.”

Watching Giyeon bite into the fritter with his small mouth, Suhyeon chuckled softly and took a bite himself.

It was an especially delicious day for fritters.