I don't want nothing 'cause nothing's all you give
I don't want your touch 'cause that would be too much for me

I don't want my love to be misunderstood
So I think I'm giving up
I could never give it up fair way

I don't want your lies burning deep inside of me
Look into my eyes, I don't want your sympathy

Should've known that it was over
It was different than before
As the love was turning colder
You didn't need me anymore

Now nothing lasts forever
Like I said before
I don't want your sympathy no more...

"Sympathy" by BBMak

After Young-Pyo walked out the door, Tae-Young was left to tend to the very distraught Uke, still shaking and holding himself as he sat at the edge of the bed. Tae-Young could hardly begin to piece together the puzzle of what this was all about, save for the fact that it had something to do with Nam-Il and Ji-Sung, and that Young-Pyo looked severely pissed when he went out the door.

"Uke..." he sat beside the younger man. "Come on, now...we've got to get these wet clothes off you."

Uke let Tae-Young take his dripping jacket off him, followed by his national jacket and the shirt he wored underneath it. Tae-Young piled them all up on the floor, then went to the bathroom to fetch some towels.

He draped a towel over Uke's trembling shoulders and embraced him tightly, and felt the little striker's head slowly leaning against his shoulder.

"Shhh...it's okay." he whispered gently, one hand moving to stroke through the mass of wet hair.

"I've been had." Uke's voice said, his tone bitter. "I've been fooled."

"Uke..." Tae-Young considered how he should ask this. "Were you...I mean, you and Nam-Il were..."

"Yeah, we were." Uke said, then sniffed. "Or at least I thought so, until tonight."

Tae-Young blinked confusedly. "And...the whole deal with Ji-Sung was..."

"Ji-Sung was with Nam-Il during the World Cup."

"Really? I didn't know..."

"Not too many people did." Uke said flatly. "It wasn't much of a relationship...but whatever it was, there was something going on. Just that it didn't last."

"And you?"

"Until a few months ago I wasn't even close with Nam-Il." sadness crept back into Uke's voice. "And then we met accidentally somewhere, and things...happened..."

"Look, Uke...you don't have to tell me all of this now."

"I should've known." Uke continued bitterly. "I should've known..."

"Uke...just relax, okay? You need some rest..."

"Just because he never talked about Ji-Sung...it didn't mean that he'd gotten over him."

Tae-Young almost didn't know how to react. It was a bit too much for him. Nam-Il, whom he'd known all this time not just as a national temmate but a clubmate as well, apparently had more to him than met the eye. In this case, the impression he was getting was not at all pleasant.

At this point all he could do was just hold Uke, trying to give whatever comfort he was able to, and hoping that whatever Young-Pyo was doing out there, he'd make it back safely.

Uke's hand reached up to his collar, where Tae-Young saw a spiral-shaped pendant hanging from a cord around his neck. With one violent jerk he yanked it off, snapping the cord in two. It looked like it was made of a seashell, glistening as it lay in Uke's trembling palm.

"Did he...give you that?"

Uke nodded slowly. "Just a few nights ago...when he came here to visit me."

"He came here?"

"Yeah. Just after he came back from New Zealand." Uke paused to snort cycnically. "Probably just picked it up at some tacky gift shop at the airport,"

"Oh, Uke..."

"I could just kill him right now, you know?" the voice trembled with anger. "Just kill him."

"Did you...did you love him?"

Tae-Young was almost afraid of Uke's reply, but he saw Uke's fist clench tightly around the pendant he held, almost as if wanting to crush it into pieces.

"Not anymore."

Young-Pyo's feet pounded against the carpeted hallways on his way to the corridor where Ji-Sung's room was. He desperately, desperately wished that he was wrong, that Uke was just hallucinating, that he didn't have to do this, didn't have to actually do what he'd promised Nam-Il he'd do.

-- If you hurt him, I will hurt you. --

-- I'm serious with Uke...I really want to be with him. --

"Like hell you do, you sick bastard!" Young-Pyo cursed under his breath.

Now the bastard has gone and hurt Uke. Hurt him in the worst possible way. Shown right in front of him that he was still in love with Ji-Sung. He shook his head and wondered why it had to happen, why Uke had to see it, why Uke had been standing in that parking lot, why Uke had to go out wandering alone to look for him...

His fist was clenched tight and it already had a target. And he wouldn't quit until he found that target. He'd break down the door to Ji-Sung's room if he had to, and if that little whore decided to get involved he'd hit him too for good measure.

He realized he was still dripping wet but he couldn't care less. The anger within him would burn him dry before he reached his destination.

Turned out, he didn't even have to make much of an effort.

Nam-Il was there, his back to him, just outside of Ji-Sung's door. He didn't seem to notice Young-Pyo's presence at first, which gave Young-Pyo all the time he needed to piece the information together.

The wet clothes, hastily done up, the messy hair and disheveled look about him...any fool could take one look at him and figure out what he'd been doing.

As if on cue, Nam-Il turned to look at him. His eyes went wide with shock, the look of a man caught in the act of a crime. His mouth hung open, arms flaying at his sides as if looking for support.

"Yo..Young-Pyo..."

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Young-Pyo lunged at him, his well-prepared fist striking Nam-Il on the left side of his face. The other man stumbled, his back hitting the wall beside Ji-Sung's door.

Young-Pyo didn't wait for a reaction. He grabbed Nam-Il by his collars and pulled him up, before giving him another punch right in the gut.

A painful scream echoed through the empty corridors, and Young-Pyo shoved him back against the wall, letting him slide down against it clutching his abdomen, holding a hand up as if begging for mercy.

In a flash Ji-Sung's door opened and he rushed outside, an expression of shock as he saw Nam-Il sitting with his back against the wall, blood running down his nose and staining his clothes, Young-Pyo standing before him with his fists clenched tight.

"Young-Pyo! What the hell are you doing?!"

"Shut up!" Young-Pyo barked at him, and Ji-Sung seemed repelled by his anger. "You shut up, and stay out of this!"

"Young-Pyo...wait, it's not..." Nam-Il began.

"Not what it seems?" Young-Pyo retorted angrily. "What if I tell you that Uke saw everything, Nam-Il? Will you be able to tell him that?"

"He...he what?"

"Your little exchange down in the parking lot, damnit!" Young-Pyo looked back and forth between the two of them, ignoring Ji-Sung's confusion. "I'm sure it was the stuff of romance movies, huh? The two of you in the pouring rain..."

"Young-Pyo, what the hell are you talking about?" Ji-Sung asked.

"I said, shut up!" Young-Pyo pointed a finger angrily at Ji-Sung.

"Don't talk to him like that!" Nam-Il managed to shout out painfully. "He's got nothing to do with this!"

"Nam-Il, what is he talking about?" Ji-Sung was at the verge of tears.

"You didn't tell him, did you?" Young-Pyo felt a cynical smile breaking across his lips. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me."

"What? Didn't tell me what?" Ji-Sung said, frustrated.

"Your boyfriend here is quite the charmer, isn't he, Ji-Sung?" Young-Pyo said. "Too bad he's not a keeper."

He wiped the blood from his knuckles and looked down at Nam-Il's face, fearful and angry at the same time.

"Don't you ever, and I mean ever, come near him again."

"He...he saw..."

"Yeah, he saw it. The whole deal. And if you expect him to forgive you after that, you're much more of an idiot than I first thought."

"Young-Pyo...let me talk to him..."

"And be smothered with your lies again? No thanks, Nam-Il. I think we've both had enough of you."

He then looked at Ji-Sung, who looked back at him in plain horror. "I hope you enjoy your flight back to Japan, Ji- Sung...'cause you haven't really done us much good here."

"Leave him alone!" Nam-Il snapped.

"And you leave Uke alone!" Young-Pyo retorted sharply, then started walking away from the two of them.

"Young-Pyo! Wait, Young-Pyo!" he heard Nam-Il call after him, but he ignored it.

His knuckles hurt, but it was worth it.

It was well worth it.

Ji-Sung helped Nam-Il up, supporting his weight as he tried to scramble back onto his feet.

"My God...your face..."

Nam-Il swept his hand away.

"Nam-Il..."

Nam-Il didn't answer. The convoluted mess inside his head was threatening to make his brain implode. Blood was still streaking from his nose, and he wiped it away.

Uke had seen him. Uke had seen him with Ji-Sung.

He felt like the world was going to end.

"Nam-Il...what was that all about? Tell me!"

"Ji-Sung, stay here. I've got to..."

"Goddamnit, tell me what the fuck is going on!"

"I said, stay here!" Nam-Il said sharply. "I'll explain later..."

He left before Ji-Sung could say anything else, walking after Young-Pyo, his muffled footsteps magnified into pounding that echoed the pounding he felt in his heart. He ignored the pain, the soreness from where his back had hit the wall, the dizziness starting to cloud his head.

He had to find Uke. Had to find him, talk to him.

He got to Uke's door, and wasted no time starting to bang on it. He knew Young-Pyo had to be in there as well, but he was willing to risk another punch in the face just as long as he got to see Uke again.

"Uke! Uke, open up, please! Uke, come on...please, I need to talk to you!"

"Go away!" the shrill voice shouted from inside, and the pain he heard in it made his knees buckle. He'd heard that pain before, not so long ago, another door nearly shut in his face, another feeling of loss.

Now he was afraid he was too late.

"Open up! Uke, I need to talk to you! Open the door!"

"There's nothing to talk about!"

"Yes, there is! I've got to explain..."

Then, suddenly, the door swung open, nearly taking him down with it. And standing before him was Uke, red-eyed and breathing hard, his eyes burning with something that made Nam-Il want to duck and cover.

"Uke, I..."

Uke threw something at him, it hit him on his chest and fell into his hands. He knew what it was almost without looking at it. It was the koru.

"Take back your little gift, Nam-Il...I don't need it anymore."

"Uke..."

"New beginnings, my ass..." Uke shook his head in disgust. "Looks like you've fooled me, Nam-Il. Are you happy now?"

"Don't say that! I never meant to..."

"Yeah, and I'm sure you never meant to kiss Ji-Sung in the middle of the parking lot too, did you? Or end up with him in his bedroom?"

"Uke, please!"

"Just like you never meant to be with me in the first place, right?"

"Stop it!"

"No, you stop it!" Uke retorted. "Stop all this bullshit, all this nonsense about you and me. It's clear to me now who you really want, so there's nothing more to talk about!"

"You don't understand, Uke! I..."

"I don't need to understand!" Uke hissed sharply. "I know what I saw, Nam-Il. Are you going to tell me that I didn't see it?"

Nam-Il fell silent. He couldn't deny it anymore. Uke had seen it, had seen it, and there was no way he could convince him otherwise. No way.

"You should've told me..." Uke muttered bitterly. "You should've told me that I was only a filler before you got him back..."

"Uke, no..."

"Just somebody to keep you warm before that..." Uke's voice filled with disgust. "...that scheming, stupid bitch comes crawling back into your arms..."

"Uke!"

"You should've told me that, Nam-Il...told me from the very first time..."

"Listen to me, Uke..."

"Then I wouldn't have bothered falling in love with you!"

And then the door slammed shut in front of him, and this time he was powerless to stop it. Nam-Il stared for long moments at it, trying to sense Uke's presence at the other side, but everything had been shut away from him.

He felt dead. No, he felt worse than dead.

"Uke..." he knocked on the door weakly, now reduced to begging for pity if not anything else. "Uke, I'm sorry..."

"Go away, Nam-Il!" Young-Pyo's voice said harshly from inside.

"Uke, please..." Nam-Il persisted. "Please, just open the door...open it!"

He kept on knocking, getting successively weaker each time, begging with his words and with his heart that he would be shown some mercy, the the door would open. Then, just as he was ready to give up, the door opened.

And standing there was not Uke, not Young-Pyo, but Kim Tae-Young.

Nam-Il felt his heart getting caught in his throat as he was confronted with the older man's steely gaze, his face cold with loathing.

"Tae...Tae-Young..."

Half of him wondered why Tae-Young was here. Half of him was scared out of his mind. It couldn't be happening. Not Tae-Young, not Tae-Young...

The older man grabbed him with both hands and shoved him hard against the wall. He was far bigger than Young- Pyo, stronger too, and Nam-Il felt the impact twice as hard. But Tae-Young was instantly on him, one hand gripping his face just under his chin, twisting him up to look at him.

"You are one hell of a jerk, you know that?" Tae-Young said lowly.

Nam-Il couldn't reply. His mind started to panic. He had to get away, get away from Tae-Young, get away from this man, get away from that iron grip and that intense gaze...

"Why don't you just leave him alone, okay? You've caused him enough pain."

The words weren't registering. Nam-Il could barely hear them. Memories began flashing in front of his eyes, memories so long repressed even he'd almost forgotten about them.

"Let me go..." he said meekly, his voice failing him.

"You get your sorry little ass out of here, and never go near him again, okay?"

"Let me go..." he repeated, wanting nothing more than to be out of this predicament. "Plese, let me go..."

Tae-Young did that, releasing him harshly and letting him fall back against the wall. Nam-Il fell to the floor, his arms going around himself.

"You're pathetic..." the older man muttered in disgust, before he stepped back behind the door.

And then the door was slammed shut again, and Nam-Il was left alone. Alone with his pain and his fear and the blood that ran down his face, the fear that coursed through his veins, the surge of memories that formed a swirling pit in his stomach and threatened to make him vomit.

Why? Why Tae-Young? Of all the people in the world...why him? God, why him?

He couldn't bear the image of Tae-Young with Uke. Couldn't bear the image of Tae-Young in that room with Uke and Young-Pyo, couldn't bear the thought of Tae-Young even touching Uke. It was too much. It was too damn much.

He staggered to his feet, clutching his stomach. He had to get out of here. Slowly he started walking back to where he came from, making a turn down the corridor. He didn't want to go back to Ji-Sung's room. He couldn't bear to even look at Ji-Sung now. Not after all this. He was in no shape to explain anything that happened, to risk another door being slammed in his face, though he may very well deserve it.

There you go again, Nam-Il...once again, you've digged yourself into a hole you can't crawl out of. Looks like you haven't learned much after all.

He walked slowly, leaning against one side of the wall, trying to remember in his mind where the elevator shafts were located. And then, he heard something.

Footsteps. Footsteps and voices, coming from a corridor just a turn away from where he was. Voices talking to each other, voices he partly recognized.

They were back. The others were back.

Nam-Il's heart began pounding. There was no way for him to escape. He couldn't let them see him, not in the shape he was in, but he wasn't going back to Uke's corridor. That was a dead end. And the elevator shafts...they were in the direction where the voices were coming from.

He was trapped.

He looked to his right and left, trying to find a storage room or an emergency exit, but he found none. Even Ji- Sung's room was beyond his reach now, he couldn't get there without encountering the other team members first.

The footsteps grew closer, and he could see shadows reflected on the wall. They were coming straight in his direction.

Just as he thought he was going to get caught, he felt a hand grabbing him from behind. He was pulled back, he didn't quite know how, and then saw a door close in front of him. He was inside someone's room. Then he turned to look at who had pulled him in.

"Chun-Soo?"

"Shhhh..." Chun-Soo held a finger against his lips to quiet him, then pressed his ear against the door. He listened, signaling Nam-Il to keep quiet. After several moments, he stepped awayf rom the door.

"They've gone past us. Don't worry."

"Your...your roommate..."

"Song-Gook's staying with Eun-Jung and Young-Min tonight." he said. "Come here, and sit down. You need some fixing up."

"Chun-Soo, I..."

"No need to explain to me." Chun-Soo stopped him. "Whatever it is you've got going on, it's none of my fucking business."

Nam-Il sat down on one of the beds, and Chun-Soo fetched him some tissue and a wet towel from the bathroom. He wiped the blood from his nose and pressed the cold towel against it, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Thank you..."

"Don't thank me." Chun-Soo shook his head. "Looks to me like you've got a lot to sort out."

"I just...I just made the biggest mistake of my life, Chun-Soo."

The other snorted and smiled sardonically. "Trust me, you'll find yourself saying that again and again in one lifetime."

Nam-Il looked up at him and managed a weak smile. "Yeah...I guess so."

"Rain's stopped a while ago." Chun-Soo said. "Do you want to stay or do you need to go someplace else?"

"Definitely need to go someplace else."

"Do you know where?"

"No." Nam-Il said truthfully. "Just...anywhere but here."

Chun-Soo nodded, then went to the small dining table and poured a glass of water. He took it back to Nam-Il and offered it. "Here..."

Nam-Il accepted it and drank, letting the water cool his parched throat. He looked outside the window and saw that the rain had indeed stopped. He wiped the towel across his face one more time and stood up.

"I'd better go..."

"Yeah, you'd better." Chun-Soo took the towel from his hand and helped him up. "You need some dry clothes? I got some here..."

"No, thanks." Nam-Il shook his head. "Look, Chun-Soo...maybe I should explain to you about this sometime..."

"Sometime, not now." Chun-Soo said.

Nam-Il shook away the remnants of his dizziness and started towards the door.

"Hey, Nam-Il..." Chun-Soo called after him.

"Huh?"

"Whatever it is that you're going through...try to work it out, okay? Don't wait till it's too late."

Nam-Il offered him a weak smile. "Maybe it already is..."

"Well, good luck."

"Thanks."

Nam-Il walked out the door and closed it behind him. The corridors were empty again, but behind the doors he could sense that the rooms were buzzing with life. Most of the others were already back in.

He straightened himself and tried his best to hide the bloodstains on his clothes, then started walking towards the elevator shafts.

Chun-Soo sat and stared at the door long after Nam-Il had disappeared beyond it, thinking to himself. Nam-Il didn't have to explain anything, really...it all added up. The commotion he heard outside his room, the shouts...and the fact that Nam-Il's hand was clutching the necklace that he'd seen not so long ago around Uke's neck.

Shaking his head, Chun-Soo walked towards his window into the deepening night.

So, another love story bites the dust. Another heart broken, another opportunity squandered. Been there, done that.

"Welcome to the club, Nam-Il..." he muttered slowly.

Nam-Il drove as fast as he could with the pain still ringing in his head and in his gut. Every few minutes he had to fight the urge to vomit, grinding himself against the seat and trying to prevent his stomach from contracting, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

He drove alone in the deserted highways, the clock ticking towards midnight. The roads were slippery, but the skies were clear and the rain had stopped.

He hadn't known where to go until he'd started the engine and got out of the Busan city perimeters. From then on, the decision seemed obvious.

The Rio he drove sped by a sign on the side of the road, pointing him towards his destination.

POHANG
70 KILOMETRES

On to Part 17