Unrequited Love Thresher-Chapter 46: Unexpected

A DNA test is a test conducted to identify criminals, locate missing persons, or confirm biological parentage.

If Ha Ilwoo’s father brought it up in relation to young Ha Giyeon, there could be only one intent: a paternity check. Though Ilwoo usually accepted his father’s opinions to a certain extent, this was the one thing he could not.

“Please don’t say ridiculous things like that.”

To conduct a DNA test meant not only doubting whether the child was his—it meant suspecting his own partner, Lee Mihyun. Ha Ilwoo didn’t easily trust people, but he did trust Mihyun. He had built that trust through years of marriage, and he didn’t believe she would ever do something so irrational as to ruin her own career.

Once broken, trust could never be restored. That was why he stopped thinking of Ha Giyeon as a child who resembled either of them. He felt no need to care about a boy who wasn’t exceptional like Ha Dohoon, and he didn’t wish to force himself to love him. In the end, it would only hurt them both.

What Ha Giyeon needed was financial support, and that alone. If he was raised in a good home, ate well, wore nice things, and received a proper education, then he would turn out fine. Misery came from a lack of money—so with money, Giyeon would be happy.

That was why Ha Ilwoo devoted himself even more to his business. The attention he might have given Ha Giyeon, he /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ poured into his work instead. The same was true for Mihyun.

But Ha Dohoon was different.

Unlike his parents, who found the boy uncomfortable, Dohoon lingered around him—as if he felt some attachment to him as a brother, as the older sibling. He practiced helping the boy say his name.

There was nothing wrong with a big brother caring for his younger sibling. If anything, Ilwoo found it admirable—Dohoon, as the firstborn, was truly commendable.

Perhaps because of that, as he grew up, Ha Giyeon became increasingly dependent on Dohoon. Not only that, but he would force himself to show up at the table even when he was sick, desperate to be noticed, trying so hard to strike up conversation despite his visible discomfort. But to them, everything Giyeon did was just annoying. Even when he came downstairs trembling in fear because of thunder, Mihyun coldly sent him away, and Ilwoo ignored him.

Letting Giyeon sleep in their room would clearly be inconvenient and affect their condition. They didn’t want to hear any loud crying, either.

As the distance grew, Giyeon’s behavior only became more cautious. Even while watching them with hopeful, longing eyes, he was careful. But as always, Ilwoo looked away.

It was only natural to show no interest in someone who fell short of Dohoon. In a world where only talent, power, and results were recognized, Ha Giyeon was already a lost cause. He had been born different from his brother—there was no expectation to be had.

Ilwoo had no intention of keeping Giyeon in the house after graduation. The boy was already clinging too much to Dohoon, and if left alone, would only get in the way of his future.

The plan was for Dohoon to study abroad in the UK after graduating, and for Giyeon to be sent to the Philippines. By then, the business would have grown even more, and Dohoon would be attending university while preparing to take over the company. As for Giyeon, he could be placed in an appropriate position or allowed to work where he wanted.

What a perfect plan.

Ha Ilwoo’s plans were always perfect—he had lived his entire life strictly adhering to them.

So he didn’t anticipate it at all. That Ha Giyeon—the quiet boy who always watched for cues—would change.

“If you don’t want to eat, then stop. It’s unpleasant to watch.”

“Yes.”

Once the first to sit at the table and wait for meals, Ha Giyeon eventually stopped showing up. Worse, he once stormed away from the breakfast table. It was clearly an ill-mannered act, but Ilwoo silently watched him go. Perhaps it was like when he was younger, acting out for attention.

Ilwoo didn’t come home often due to his workload, but he always received updates about the household.

“Madam had the furniture in the second young master’s room replaced.” frёewebηovel.cѳm

“...You mean Ha Giyeon?”

“Yes, Master Giyeon’s room...”

Ilwoo asked again, thinking perhaps they had confused him with Dohoon—but they confirmed it was Giyeon. He didn’t understand.

Why would Mihyun suddenly change the furniture in Giyeon’s room? She had no interest in him.

He had heard she’d locked his room door recently when he talked back. So why was she now giving him new furniture? The fact that Mihyun was getting involved made him uneasy. Her response was strange. And then there was Dohoon, always sitting in the living room—that was strange, too. He used to spend his afternoons with his friends.

“What’s Ha Giyeon doing these days?”

“He’s been going to the library and coming home late.”

“The library?”

Ilwoo frowned, as if he’d just heard something ridiculous. Giyeon had never been interested in studying, nor had he put in effort. And now he was going to the library? If that were true, Mihyun would have had no reason to be so angry.

She had said he was hanging out with the wrong crowd, doing worthless things—and he had believed her.

‘Then Dohoon staying in the living room was because...’

Was he waiting for Giyeon? If Dohoon had been worried about his wayward little brother, then it all made sense—even the scabs on his lips.

There were things happening in the house that Ilwoo didn’t know about. And at the center of it was Ha Giyeon.

“...If I bother you, then just lock the door again like before, or tell me to leave. I’ll go quietly.”

“You...”

After overhearing the conversation between Mihyun and Giyeon, Ilwoo was certain.

Ha Giyeon was the problem.

Ilwoo’s face hardened into something cold and frightening. He hadn’t said a word to the boy lately, since he’d barely seen him—but now, it seemed the kid had started rebelling. He couldn’t leave it alone.

Whatever had happened, the root of the problem in this household was still Ha Giyeon. Before something bigger occurred, a warning had to be given.

“Make a reservation at the restaurant we went to with Executive Director Kyungwon.”

It had been a while since their last family dinner anyway. If he brought it up during the meal, Giyeon wouldn’t be able to storm off like he did at breakfast. And frankly, it was too bothersome to call him out separately.

He didn’t have that kind of time to waste on Ha Giyeon.

“Bring the kids home as soon as school ends.”

“Yes, sir.”

What Ha Ilwoo didn’t know... was just how catastrophic that dinner would turn out to be.

***

“Phew...”

After checking his history score sheet, Ha Giyeon neatly signed his name in the confirmation box. For the first time, the number next to his name was something unfamiliar.

Not the 50s and 60s that had once littered his report—but 88. A genuinely satisfying score.

History had always been one of his worst subjects, so he had read and reread everything. Luckily, one of the essay questions had been the very one he’d studied so hard for.

Giyeon’s nose stung with emotion as he clenched his fist. It was the first result he’d earned through his own effort.

“Giyeon, whatcha doing?”

The voice of Nam Taekyung came from behind, and Giyeon quickly flipped his score sheet forward. Taekyung leaned in close, resting his weight on his shoulder.

“Looked like you were checking your history score. Did you do well?”

“Uh, I just studied hard.”

“This time’s tests were pretty easy overall. Bet you did well.”

Taekyung grinned as he asked. And sure, everyone knew he’d been the student speaker at the entrance ceremony—he was known to excel academically.

Compared to his perfect scores, was Giyeon’s score actually bad?

Giyeon laughed awkwardly and avoided his gaze. Then Taekyung’s eyes lit up with curiosity, and he smiled more deeply.

“So what’d you get, huh?”

Without waiting for a reply, he snatched the score sheet from the student in front and found Giyeon’s score. His lips twitched when he saw it, and his eyebrows sank as he spoke with feigned regret.

“Sorry... I didn’t realize you’d bombed it...”

“No, it’s not like I—”

“You’ll do better next time. Don’t be discouraged.”

But... I’m actually satisfied with my score.

Yet the way Taekyung said it made him second-guess. Maybe the test really was super easy, and he’d failed...

“Hey! Taekyung, you can’t judge everything by your own standards!”

“Right, Giyeon might feel like he did great! I only got 71...”

“Yeah, but look at his face. Doesn’t exactly scream happy.”

At that, Giyeon touched his own face. But I’m in such a good mood right now... was my expression that stiff?

“If it’s hard, I can help you for the next exam—just this once, I’ll—”

“Math scores are out!”

The classroom door slammed open, and the student in charge of math waved the papers in the air. Hearing that math—the most important subject—was being posted, the class surged forward.

Only Nam Taekyung remained, looking on with confidence written all over his face.

“Not gonna check, Giyeon?”

“Oh—yeah.”

Prompted by Taekyung, Giyeon stood and walked over to confirm his score. When he’d double-checked earlier, he’d gotten all the multiple-choice right—but the essay portion was iffy. He had rewritten it several times before turning it in. Hopefully it hadn’t been completely wrong.

“Hey! Ha Giyeon’s the only one who got a perfect score!”

“...Huh?”

He hadn’t expected that.

He never imagined he’d get a hundred.