Busan Athlete's Village
21.35 p.m.

Outside the window the rain began to pour hard, though it did little to lessen the festive air of the shows and concerts being held at the cultural stage. The organizers had, after all, figured everything into the equation and had outfitted the public gathering places with protective canopies and other facilities to ensure that the show would go on despite the weather.

In the safe confines of his apartment block, Uke paced back and forth and glanced at the watch on his wrist. Young-Pyo hadn't returned, and he was starting to worry. Not that he didn't trust Young-Pyo. He knew his friend well enough to know he wouldn't do anything stupid, but the state of mind he was in made Uke very concerned. He knew he had to respect Young-Pyo's wishes to be alone, but he'd feel a lot better if he knew exactly where his friend was, and not have him wander aimlessly out there in the pourin

You're getting sappy, Uke...he told himself. Young-Pyo wouldn't do that. He knows his responsibilities, he knows he still has one more match to play. He would be okay. He would be okay.

Uke repeated this to himself over and over again, like a mantra, trying to convince himself, but the words lost more strength the more he tried to believe in them, the nagging worry continuing to fester in his stomach and refusing to subside.

Young-Pyo wasn't in his right mind. He hadn't been since last night. He was better when the loss first hit them, holding up better than the rest of the team who had slumped into tears as the stadium fell silent, so much better that Uke thought he would be the first to recover. But during the debriefing he grew more silent, more withdrawn, and the next time Uke saw him on the bus, he'd gone into deep freeze. He even refused to sit in his usual place beside Uke, opting to seclude himself at the back of the bus

That night, either Young-Pyo had slept so deep out of his exhaustion, or he didn't sleep at all and yet remained still as a statue. Uke spent a good portion of the night watching him from the other bed, trying to detect the other man's emotions. But he could sense none. Young-Pyo had shut him out. Whether he realized it or not, Young- Pyo had shut him out.

The situation frustrated him. He thought he was Young-Pyo's best friend, his teammate, and now he felt like he'd just had a door slammed shut in his face. Unlike the others, who openly shared their grief and cried together, even Chun-Soo, who'd previously shown very little emotion off the pitch, Young-Pyo had remained utterly silent.

He almost expected, almost wished desperately that he would turn in his bed and catch a glimpse of Young- Pyo's body racking with sobs, of him crying himself silently to sleep. Even that would've been a welcome sight to all this coldness, this lack of emotion.

Uke shook the images away from his head and stood up, snatching his thick jacket from the his bed. He put it on over his national jacket, all the better to protect him from the cold and the rain, because he didn't know how long this would take him.

He had to find Young-Pyo. Find him, talk to him, convince him to let down his guard and just be honest to himself. It probably won't be pretty, but who could give a damn now? He wanted his friend back. He'd had enough of the robotic, listless man who barely spoke to him the entire day and turned down all the offers. He had to bring his friend back. He would find him, and he would do just that.

His cell phone lay on the small dining table in the room, but he decided against using it. The state he was in now, Young-Pyo would probably just hang up on him. Phone calls were too distant, too impersonal for situations like these. He had to find Young-Pyo himself.

"The defeat of the national football team yesterday has led to the BAGOC organizing committee speculating on financial losses amounting to more than 2 million dollars from low ticket sales..."

Switch.

"...failure to reach the finals has caused an uproar in the nation. Pre-tournament favourites South Korea were defeated..."

Switch.

"...missed chances late in the second half and were forced to pay the bitter price. The ensuing penalty shootout was..."

Switch.

Tae-Young flicked the radio off and leaned back against the headrest as he drove through the rain along the highway linking Kwangnyang to Busan. He didn't know why he'd bothered to turn the radio on in the first place. Everybody was just saying the same thing, over and over again. If there was one good thing he could draw from them was that nobody had so far come forth with laying the blame on Young-Pyo. But even with that in mind, the news were still depressing.

As the rain blasted against his windshields and he turned the wiper on to full, he thought once again about what exactly did he hope to achieve by going there.

Make Young-Pyo feel better, for one thing. He didn't quite know how, just knew that he felt compelled to do it.

Why the sudden affection towards Young-Pyo? He couldn't quite explain it himself, just that he'd grown fond of the younger man ever since they accidentally bumped into each other a few nights ago, that something in Young-Pyo's demeanor had captivated him.

Tae-Young hit the gas pedal and heard the raindops rapping against his windows, the spray sloshing around his tires.

Busan was still some distance away.

Uke had almost given up trying to find Young-Pyo. He'd searched everywhere in the village complex and still couldn't locate his friend. He'd bumped into several teammates, of course, some at the concert stage, some seeking shelter in one of the canopied walkways, some enjoying the entertainment facilities provided by the organizing committee. Eun-jung and Dong-Hyuk had tried to convince him to come to dinner with them, but Uke declined even though he was hungry, intent on finding Young-Pyo.

He'd given up on sticking to the walkways and allowed himself to be soaked by the rain, checking every inch of the plaza, every vantage point towards the harbour, every bench along the railing that gave visitors a view of the sea. He'd looked inside the restaurants, the coffee shops, the arcades, and even the discotheque - God forbid, though he knew Young-Pyo wasn't likely to be in there.

The rain became harder and Uke became desperate, wrapping his jacket tightly around himself and pulling the hood further over his head. Water dripped off its edge and partly obscured his view, but Uke moved on. He was leaving the more crowded areas of the village now, and towards the ones where there weren't so many people.

He kept on walking, trying to catch a glimpse, a signal, anything that would tell him where Young-Pyo was. When all else failed, he tried to use his instincts. Tried to sense a presence, any presence, however faint, however impossible it seemed to comprehend.

His feet skidded into a halt just near the parking lot, where rows upon rows of vehicles were parked and jammed tightly together, a cacophony of noise as raindrops fell against metal roofs, lit by garish neons.

Uke started walking among the cars, wondering if Young-Pyo could be there. A silly thought, perhaps, but still possible. After all, what Young-Pyo wanted was to be alone, to clear his head. Perhaps he'd have a better chance of finding him in places like these.

Uke felt a hand tighten around his chest when he saw a figure standing in the parking lot, beneath the pouring rain, some two rows away from where he stood.

"Young-Pyo?" he asked, though he knew his voice could not be heard over the rain.

But it wasn't Young-Pyo. The figure looked oddly familiar, but it wasn't him.

Uke squinted to get a better looked, but as soon as he did his eyes flew wide open.

"Nam-Il..." his lips muttered.

Uke felt a surge of joy within him. Nam-Il was here. Here. A smile broke across his lips and he started walking towards him, newfound hope in his steps.

And then he stopped.

Uke felt his smile vanishing and a cold chill running through his body. Something was not right about this. Nam-Il was standing still, his eyes firmly fixed on some distant point, something Uke could not see. The shroud of rain only allowed him to see his figure, as he seemed to be watching something so intently he forgot about everything else, forgot about the rain that was soaking him wet, the cold that was seeping through his clothes.

And then, it happened.

Somebody ran towards Nam-Il, ran from the direction where he'd been staring. A figure that also seemed familiar, running through the pouring rain. He ran straight into Nam-Il's arms and the two embraced, holding each other tightly.

"No..."

This couldn't be happening. This had to be some sort of nightmare. Uke shook his head, wanting desperately to wake up, to be out of this hallucination, wanting somebody to shake him awake and free him from this vision. But nobody did.

"Ji...Ji-Sung." he muttered, the name rolling bitterly off his trembling lips.

It was Ji-Sung. It couldn't be anybody else.

"No..." Uke's voice grew hoarse, his words caught halfway in his throat.

They were arguing. They were screaming things at each other. Ji-Sung kept Nam-Il held closely against him, refusing to let go. Uke wanted nothing than to tear those two apart. But his feet were rooted to the ground, his limbs weak.

They kissed.

"NO!"

The scream came out like a choked wail out of his mouth, his shock paralyzing him. He desperately wanted to move, to go over there, tear them apart and tell that stupid Ji-Sung that Nam-Il wasn't his anymore, that Nam-Il was with him, with Uke, that Nam-Il loved him and not Ji-Sung.

But his own thoughts betrayed him. Nam-Il never said that. Nam-Il had never even talked about Ji-Sung. And what he saw only confirmed his fears.

Nam-Il didn't push Ji-Sung away.

Uke felt his insides churning into a painful knot within his stomach.

The two started walking, hanging onto each other, walking away from the parking lot, away from Uke, their backs toward him, their arms wrapped around each other.

When the first tears started rolling down his face, they were out of his sight. Uke felt his knees buckle and he fell, slipping against the cold, wet tarmac, his eyes refusing to tear themselves away from where he'd seen it all happen.

His hands, trembling from wrist to fingertip, reached up to where the koru hung around his neck. The seashell was cold against his touch, its smoothness betraying the sharp jab of pain he felt against his chest.

-- I had to get something for my favourite goalscorer. --

Uke began crying, his shoulders shaking as the tears rolled freely, shamelessly out of his eyes.

-- You're amazing Uke. --

All the words, all the sweet little endearments, all the nights and days, and the dreams he had of what they meant, what he meant for Nam-Il...gone.

-- I was afraid I'd lost you. --

He cried, and the skies cried with him.

Tae-Young maneuvered around the parking lot trying to find an empty space, and he found one just near the entrance to the village complex. He backed his car into it and turned off the engine, pulling his jacket hood over his head as he exited out of the door. After locking up his car he looked around and started walking towards the entrance, wondering if he should call Young-Pyo now, to tell him that he was coming.

It was then he noticed a figure, a lone figure kneeling in between two rows of parked cars, and his heart got an unpleasant jump. He thought of the worse possibilities as he started walking towards that figure, desperately wishing that it wasn't Young-Pyo.

It wasn't.

"Uke?" Tae-Young almost couldn't believe his eyes. "Uke! My God...what the hell are you doing here?"

Uke didn't answer. He didn't even look at Young-Pyo. His eyes stared vacantly ahead, and Tae-Young saw that they were red and swollen.

Not good.

"Uke, come on...get up! What's wrong with you?"

He knelt in front of the younger man and tried to haul him to his feet, but Uke's feet refused to support him. They nearly stumbled onto the tarmac again, if Tae-Young hadn't braced himself against one of the cars for support.

"Uke! Uke, listen to me! Look at me!" he turned Uke's face towards his. "What happened? Why are you here?"

Uke's lips trembled as they struggled to find words. "Tae...Tae-Young..."

"What are you doing here? You'll get sick! What happened to you?"

Uke shook his head, his face contorting painfully as he began to cry again, his entire body shaking. Tae-Young held him, leaning against one of the cars, wrapping both his arms tightly around the little striker's body.

"Uke..." he said gently. "Come on...you can't stay here. I'll take you back to the apartments."

Uke didn't answer, but he nodded weakly. Tae-Young helped him to his feet and half-supported his weight as they walked towards the entrance to the village. Tae-Young was in utter confusion, his head filling with questions, but he decided against asking.

What's more important was to get Uke safely inside the building again, safe from the pouring rain and whatever had caused him this pain.

They got into the lobby of Uke's apartment block and caused a bit of a commotion there, with the security staff and officials insisting on bringing the distraught player to a medical center. But Uke had stiffly declined, telling them that he just needed to go back to his room. Reluctantly, they let him do that, while Tae-Young was allowed to go in with him. They rode the elevators up with Uke leaning heavily against the older man, his eyes empty. Tae- Young's worry grew worse as the bright lights allowed him

They got off the elevator on the Korean team's floor and found the corridors mostly deserted, and Uke weakly directed him to the door of the room he shared with Young-Pyo. It was empty.

"Where's Young-Pyo, Uke?" Tae-Young as he set Uke down on one of the beds.

"He went outside..." Uke said weakly, wrapping his arms tightly around his soaking wet body. "I was trying to look for him...but then..."

"Then what?"

Uke shook his head, unable to continue. He buried his face in his hands and began to shake uncontrollably.

Tae-Young dug into the pocket of his trousers for his cell phone, fortunately finding it dry and functioning. He pushed the last dialled button and waited for the tone.

"Hello, Tae-Young?"

"Where the hell are you? Get back here immediately!"

"What? Get back where?"

"I'm at your apartment block in the village. Get here now!"

"What? What's wrong?"

"Uke...something's happened to Uke!"

Young-Pyo ran, he ran through the rain on his nimble feet, making no pretense of calm and instead bordering on panic. He hadn't bothered to ask Tae-Young what had happened to Uke, since the other man didn't seem to know, either.

He got to the aparment blocks after a mad sprint through the plaza grounds, almost forgetting to flash his ID card at the security guards manning the lobby entrance. He got on the elevators and it seemed so slow to get him up, so slow that he wished he'd taken the stairs instead. All sorts of thoughts filled his head, from bad to worse and back again, and as the doors slid slowly open he almost muscled them apart, continuing his run until he was at the door to his room.

It wasn't locked.

He burst inside, and immediately found Tae-Young, soaking wet from head to toe, sitting on one of the beds with an equally soaking wet Uke in his arms, crying uncontrollably.

"What happened?" Young-Pyo asked as he stepped towards them, his eyes unblinking.

"I don't know...I found him like this in the parking lot."

Young-Pyo knelt in front of Uke and took his friend's face in his hands, gently turning it to look at him. "Uke..."

"Young-Pyo..." the voice that answered him was weak, distressed.

"What happened, Uke? Why were you in the parking lots?"

"He said he went out to look for you..." Tae-Youn said lowly.

Young-Pyo felt guilt surging up inside him, but he quickly shook it away. "Then, what..."

"You were right, Young-Pyo..." Uke said suddenly.

Young-Pyo frowned at him. "Right about what?"

"You were right-you were right all along. And I was an idiot." Uke said, his voice full of self-loathing.

"Uke, what are you talking about?"

Uke didn't answer immediately. One of his hands reached up to his neck fingering the necklace he wore there. Young-Pyo had seen him wearing it for only a few days now, had concluded that the necklace was a gift from someone.

"Nam...Nam-Il." Uke said, the words rolling slowly from his tounge.

Instantly, Young-Pyo was alarmed.

"What did he do, Uke? What did he do?"

He knew Tae-Young was by now looking at them puzzled, not knowing how Nam-Il figured into all this, but he decided that explanation could wait.

"I saw...I saw him." Uke said slowly.

"Saw him where? At the parking lot?" Young-Pyo asked, trying to coax more information out of his distraught teammate.

Uke nodded. "He was with...was with..."

"With who?" Young-Pyo asked, almost fearing what he would hear.

"Ji-Sung." Uke said finally, after a long pause that seemed like forever.

Young-Pyo felt anger igniting inside of him. Instantly he got back to his feet, his hands letting go of Uke's face and clenching into tight fists.

"Tae-Young, stay here with him..." he said as he started towards the door.

"What? Young-Pyo, what the hell is this all about?" Tae-Young protested.

"Just stay with him, okay?" Young-Pyo said. "I'll explain when I get back."

"Where are you going?"

Young-Pyo gritted his teeth and dared himself to look over his shoulder, where Uke was still sitting on the bed with swollen eyes, the expression on his face pitiful.

"To keep a promise I made to somebody."

On to Part 17