Unrequited Love Thresher-Chapter 90: The Thing That Gets on My Nerves

Ha Giyeon approached from behind where Nam Taekyung was talking with the vice president. When he appeared, Taekyung visibly flinched in surprise—Giyeon saw it clearly.

Glancing briefly at him, Ha Giyeon turned to Vice President Kang Minyeong and said,

“Taekyung said he wanted to make up for losing in soccer today and wanted to go in my place.”

“W-Wait, Giyeon...?”

“If you want to switch in the middle because of your leg, just say so. My leg’s fine.”

To prove it, Giyeon tapped the floor lightly with his toes. Kang Minyeong grinned as he looked at him.

“Oh, is that it? I thought you were hurt and Taekyung was playing for you.”

“Taekyung’s leg’s hurting too. Why would I ask him for that?”

Ha Giyeon laughed lightly, and Kang Minyeong followed suit. Between the two of them, Nam Taekyung grit his teeth and glared. What the hell are they doing, mocking me right in front of my face?

He felt humiliated—like he was being treated like an idiot. Giyeon, who he thought was just some pushover, sure knew how to speak up when he wanted to. Couldn’t he just shut up for once? He didn’t even play that well in volleyball. The way he insisted on taking the position rubbed Taekyung the wrong way.

To be honest, nothing had gone right for Taekyung all day.

He’d torn apart that damn dinosaur suit because it was ruining his carefully styled hair. He thought he’d stand out more by not wearing it—but those little brats only paid attention to the ones in the suit. Ha Dohoon and Choi Mujin had come looking for Ha Giyeon, and when they couldn’t find him, they left.

Even in soccer, when he tried to impress Dohoon by demanding the ball, nothing worked. He couldn’t score a single goal.

It was all because of those dumbasses who don’t know how to play soccer. After losing with zero goals, he faked a limp and went to the nurse’s office. Later, when he came to watch the volleyball match, Ha Giyeon had suddenly become the hero.

Everyone was hugging him, saying they won thanks to Giyeon.

Stolen again. That was supposed to be his spotlight.

He was supposed to be the center of attention—the one everyone cheered for. But Ha Giyeon, despite already having so much, had taken that from him too.

He just couldn’t let it go. Taekyung was willing to do anything to be the center of attention. He could hide things, pin blame on others, do whatever it took. As long as he was on the team, victory was assured. If I just play...

“No, I told you to toss it a little higher!”

“Then you should get under it, Taekyung.”

“The timing’s all off!”

But why were all his teammates staring at him with annoyed faces?

Taekyung had taken over Ha Giyeon’s setter position, but it was a disaster. The tosses were all wrong—too high or too early. He kept missing easy blocks and dodging balls he should’ve gone for. After losing the first set, everyone was furious.

When someone finally compared him to Giyeon, Taekyung’s frustration boiled over.

“I did toss it right. You just couldn’t reach it?”

“What? Then you try hitting it!”

One player rushed toward him, only to be held back by the others. Taekyung sneered and said mockingly,

“If you can’t even play, maybe you should just sub out. Doesn’t look like you’ll be much help.”

“...Yeah, subbing out might be for the best.”

Vice President Kang Minyeong tried to mediate, accepting the substitution. Taekyung smirked.

“Taekyung, switch with Giyeon.”

“...What?”

Taekyung’s sharp gaze turned toward Minyeong. With Ha Giyeon? Of all people? Why? Shouldn’t they be subbing out the one who can’t spike?

“Giyeon practiced with us. It’s more comfortable with him, and our coordination is better. It makes sense to switch you out.”

“What’s the difference between me and him? It’s just passing the damn ball.”

“Giyeon’s more accurate with the tosses.”

“And we actually practiced with him, unlike you.”

“Just step out already. This wasn’t even your event. Why force yourself in?”

Everyone on the team turned on Taekyung, telling him to get off the court. Even the spectators started whispering. Taekyung forced a grin to keep from swearing. Did Ha Giyeon say something to them while I wasn’t looking? Why are they all acting like this?

Taekyung turned to Giyeon, standing off to the side.

“Do your best, Giyeon. Everyone’s rooting for you.”

His tone was unmistakably sarcastic. Then, unable to keep up the act, Taekyung ripped off his vest and stormed out of the gym. Ha Giyeon stared uncomfortably at the court.

Can I really play well under this tension? He was unsure. But just then, someone picked up the discarded vest, dusted it off, and handed it to him.

It was Kang Minyeong.

“Don’t mind him. Just do what you were doing before. No one’s going to blame you.”

Surprised by Minyeong’s unexpected encouragement, Giyeon gave a small nod. He never imagined the vice president would say something like that. Getting that kind of support from someone so unexpected eased his anxiety a little.

Ha Giyeon had never known how to respond to other people’s belief in him. No one—not even himself—had ever expected anything from him.

But now, it was time to prove something. Maybe to others. Maybe just to himself.

To some, this was just another match. But for him, it could be the first and last time anyone remembered him for something. It could become a treasured memory.

“Alright, let’s do our best.”

“8-Ban, fighting!”

Swallowing his nerves, Ha Giyeon stepped calmly onto the court.

***

They may have been in different grades, but being from the same Class 8 was a stroke of luck. Thanks to that, Son Suhyeon got to cheer for Ha Giyeon’s team before his own basketball match.

Of course, it would be great if Giyeon could perform well and win—but more than anything, Suhyeon just didn’t want him to get hurt.

“Huh? The kid who was amazing in the semifinals isn’t playing?”

“Maybe he got injured?”

Seeing Nam Taekyung take the court in Giyeon’s place, Suhyeon frowned. Giyeon didn’t have any injuries. Why the sudden substitution? Was it just a tactical switch? He wasn’t sure.

But as the game went on, the atmosphere only got worse.

“Hey, what the hell are the first-years doing?”

“Dude was crazy good in the semis, and now he’s a complete loser.”

“That new guy totally doesn’t sync with the team. Why’d they switch?”

As the score gap widened, complaints from the second and third years grew louder. Suhyeon, too, couldn’t understand it. Their coordination was off, their positioning was weird, and their plays lacked flow. Why pull Giyeon and put Taekyung in?

Eventually, after they lost the first set and went into a break, things in Class 8’s tent got messy.

Then, right in front of everyone, Nam Taekyung ripped off his vest and stormed out of the gym. Ha Giyeon, looking unsure, slowly picked up the vest and walked onto the court.

“Oh, looks like they swapped him back in?”

“They should’ve had him out there from the start. Why’d they put that other guy in?”

Suhyeon’s eyes followed Giyeon. Their gazes met for a moment.

He raised a fist toward him in a small but firm cheer. Giyeon met it with a mirrored gesture and stepped into position # Nоvеlight # as the whistle blew again.

What followed didn’t even need explanation.

Compared to Nam Taekyung, Ha Giyeon was on a completely different level. His tosses were clean and precise. He blocked attacks, made aggressive plays, and executed his role flawlessly. Suhyeon had a hunch he’d been practicing hard after school—and now it showed.

“Holy crap, that guy’s insane! Why didn’t he play from the start?”

“You’re all I see right now, baby!!”

Baby? Suhyeon didn’t like the way one guy in the crowd yelled that and casually smacked him in the head. Then he quickly slipped away into the crowd, pretending it wasn’t him.

“Let’s go, Ha Giyeon!”

“Giyeon-hyungniiiim!”

See? Suhyeon smiled, watching Ha Giyeon run across the court.

He really is the kind of person you can’t help but love.

Someone too good for me.

With the second set in Giyeon’s favor, the atmosphere completely shifted. The once-defeated team was now fired up. Giyeon, drenched in sweat and visibly worn out, looked happier than ever.

And finally, in the last set—Giyeon leapt.

Ta-ang!

With a powerful spike, the ball slammed into the opponent’s floor. Silence fell. Then the whistle blew.

“Match over! Volleyball champions—Class 8!”

“AAAAAAHHH! GIYEOOOON!”

“Holy crap! What a comeback!”

Cheering erupted. Ha Giyeon, the one who had completely turned the game around, was lifted into the air as the class swarmed him, shouting and tossing him up in celebration.

Watching them toss Giyeon like that, Suhyeon’s brow twitched.

All those hands patting his back, brushing against his body—it made Suhyeon unconsciously clench his fist. Then he quickly loosened it.

...If I win my game, will Ha Giyeon throw his arms around me, too?

“Class 8 and Class 4, line up.”

As Suhyeon stepped onto the basketball court, he saw who his opponent would be—and almost couldn’t believe his eyes.

Standing across from him was Ha Dohoon.

Dohoon had not participated in a single event the entire festival. The fact that he was now playing meant only one thing—Class 4 wanted to win badly. Dohoon was athletic, after all—nearly on par with Choi Mujin when it came to basketball.

The crowd held its breath.

With their height and the pressure they exuded, just seeing Suhyeon and Dohoon face off gave everyone chills. It was clear that this would be a fierce match.

Dohoon stared straight at Suhyeon. Suhyeon didn’t avoid his gaze.

Without a word, Dohoon stepped forward, bumped shoulders with Suhyeon—and muttered,

“Get lost. You piss me off.”

Suhyeon held back a scoff. You’re the one who should be gone.

But this time, there was no way he was backing down.