Touch your lips just so I know
In your eyes, love, it glows so
I'm bare boned and crazy for you
When you come crash into me, baby

And I come into you
In a boy's dream
In a boy's dream

If I've gone overboard
Then I'm begging you
To forgive me in my haste
When I'm holding you so close to me

"Crash Into Me" - Dave Matthews Band

Monday, October 14th 2002
Busan Athlete's Village
14.45 p.m.

"I hate closing ceremonies." Chun-Soo muttered grumpily as he packed his suitcase.

"Why?" Uke said from the other bed. "I think they're great. You get to see fireworks and all, and the dances."

"I don't mind watching one, Uke." Chun-Soo said. "But to be marching *in* one, and then standing for hours waiting for every single dignitary in the nation and their wives, and their mistresses to make a speech-oh, I could just kill myself."

"Ahh, I remember." Uke nodded. "You were in the Olympics, weren't you?"

"That was the longest hour of my life, standing there. Good thing we had some of the dancers close to our contingent-these Australian girls wearing very revealing costumes." Chun-Soo smirked playfully. "I was still into girls back then."

Uke shot him a weird look. "Not anymore?"

"Well, after the 'relationship' department went bust I figured I still had to-you know, take care of my needs." Chun-Soo pointed rather unabashedly at his pants. ".unfortunately it just doesn't hold the same appeal."

A little baffled by the gesture, Uke nevertheless managed to reply. "What.can't play it straight no more?"

"I tried to." Chun-Soo said as he zipped up his suitcase. "But I miss cock too much."

Uke choked and sputtered at this remark, but Chun-Soo just smiled knowingly at him. When he'd brought himself under control again, he looked up and gave his teammate an amused grin.

"You're blunt, aren't you?"

"That's not news, is it?"

"Not really."

Chun-Soo hauled his suitcase off the bed and onto the floor, the he pulled himself back upright and set his hands on his hips. "What about you? Done with the packing?"

"Done." Uke said. "I just needed to be out of my room.Young-Pyo's acting really weird."

Chun-Soo arched his eyebrows. "Why?"

"I think it's because I told him.you know, about Nam-Il."

"About you going to take him back?"

"Yeah. I mean, he said he respected my decision.but he's just acting funny."

Chun-Soo sat down on his bed, facing Uke. "Can't really blame him.he must've hated seeing you hurt."

"I know." Uke said. "I don't like making him feel this way-like I don't care what he thinks. I do, but I also gotta make my own decisions."

"Look at it on the bright side, then." Chun-Soo said. "At least he respects you, trusts you enough to make that decision."

"Yeah." Uke nodded. "Then again, I don't expect any less from him."

"Try talking to him again, Uke." Chun-Soo suggested. "I'm sure he'll understand-well, eventually."

Uke smiled. "Hmmm..maybe I should go do that now."

He stood off the bed and started walking towards the door, when Chun-Soo called after him.

"Hey, Uke."

"What?"

"If I fall asleep during the speeches, can I lean on you?"

Uke narrowed his eyes at him. "No way! You'll drool all over my shoulder!"

Chun-Soo shrugged innocently. "Well, it was worth asking."

Uke shook his head and walked out of the door.

Young-Pyo gazed at the ceiling while he lay flat on his back, his hands gathered at the back of his head. His suitcase and traveling bag were neatly packed and ready by the door, and he'd even cleaned up the place a bit, tidying up the beds as best he could.

They were going to turn the Athlete's village into an apartment complex after the Asian Games. He wondered what the future tenants would do if they knew what had taken place in this building, in this room, especially. If walls could talk.

He stretched languidly, feeling the sheets rustle under his back. Two more hours before they go the Asiad stadium for the closing ceremonies, followed by four hours of festivities, traditional dances, speeches, fireworks and the like, and then what? A long bus ride back to Seoul for him, a shuttle ride back to his apartment. Life goes on.

His daydream was interrupted when his cell phone began ringing. Young-Pyo dug into the pocket of his jeans and retrieved it, smiling as he saw the caller ID that flashed on the screen.

"Hello." he said.

"Hi." the gentle voice said from across the line. "Just wanted to check on you."

"I'm okay, Tae-Young." Young-Pyo said. "You made very sure of that."

A light chuckle. "Listen, when does your club resume training?"

"Thursday, I think." Young-Pyo said. "Thursday afternoon. Why?"

"I was thinking." a moment's pause. ".do you want to go someplace-with me?"

Young-Pyo twitched his eyebrows. "Uh.go where?"

"I have this place.up in the mountains, near Seoraksan. A small cabin, nothing fancy. I just need to clear my head a bit.and I want you to come with me."

"When do you want to leave?"

"Tonight. After the closing ceremonies." Tae-Young said. "We can have a quiet few days there, and I'll drive you back to Gyurie on Wednesday evening. How's that sound?"

Tempting. Very tempting. "Up in the mountains, right?"

"Yes."

"Good." Young-Pyo looked out of his window. "I'm sick of looking at the ocean by now."

Tae-Young laughed. "I can tell. So.do you want to come?"

"I'd love to." Young-Pyo said. "How are we going to get there?"

"They're going to drop you off where-Seoul?"

"Seoul. At the KFA headquarters, for those of us who live in that area." Young-Pyo said.

"Okay. I'll try to arrive in Seoul about the same time as your bus, and I'll pick you up at the headquarters." Tae-Young said. "How much luggage do you have?"

"One suitcase, one traveling bag, shoes." Young-Pyo counted on his fingers. "And a sack of dirty laundry."

"Yeccch." Tae-Young made a disgusted sound. "I don't have a washing machine up there."

Young-Pyo chuckled. "That's okay. Just make sure your car is air-freshened."

"I'll buy a can or two." Tae-Young remarked jokingly. "I'll see you tonight then, huh?"

"Okay.uh, Tae-Young?"

"Yes?"

"Why.so sudden? You know, this trip and all." he asked tentatively.

A long, silent pause in which he clearly heard a sharp intake of breath and its heavy release.

"Right now." Tae-Young finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just don't want to be away from you."

Young-Pyo pressed the phone closer to his ear, savoring each word. "Then you must have read my mind."

"I'm glad you feel that way." Tae-Young said. "I just need to get away from all this, Young-Pyo.and I don't want to be alone."

"I don't want to be alone, either." Young-Pyo said. "You still gonna watch the closing ceremonies?"

"Yes. I got a seat way up near the walls, though-chances are you won't see me."

"That's all right." Young-Pyo said. "I'll see you later tonight, won't I?"

"You will." Tae-Young assured him. "I'll call you before I pick you up, okay?"

"Okay."

He hung up just in time to see Uke walk in the half-opened door, looking slightly cautious. Young-Pyo gave him a smile he hoped would erase memories of his awkward behavior earlier that morning, but he knew it must still be fresh in his best friend's mind.

"Hi." Uke said. "You done packing?"

"Just about done, yes." Young-Pyo gestured at his bags.

"Listen." Uke said as he sat on his bed. "There's some things I still need to talk to you about.you know, Nam-Il and all."

Young-Pyo quelled the urge to flinch at the mention of that name, his fingers curling reflexively. "I thought we'd covered everything."

"Welll, I really appreciate you respecting my decision and all-" Uke brushed his fingers nervously through his hair. "I just wanted to make sure that you're really, and I mean really, okay with it. No bullshit, Young-Pyo. If you don't like it, just say so."

Young-Pyo took a moment to collect his thoughts, think about what he had to say. There was no way, absolutely no way he was telling Uke the real reason behind his discomfort, he just had to let it pass for something else.

But if you can forgive him, Uke.so can I. And when you do find out the truth, I hope you'll be able to forgive me.

"He came here last night, didn't he?"

"Yes," Uke nodded.

"What, exactly, did he tell you?"

Uke leaned back a little on his mattress. "He said he couldn't promise me anything. Nothing. No guarantees. But he just wants me back."

"Oh."

"He was delving into that self-loathing business, you know? So many 'I'm sorry' said in one sentence that it makes me sick." Uke said. "It's not like he so bluntly asked me back or anything.I pushed him into it."

"Uke."

"He was just going on and on about blaming himself, how sorry he was-and bless him for that, really.but it just wasn't what I wanted to hear from him." Uke shrugged. "I guess you can say he was just being sensible.but I didn't want to."

"Had to follow your heart, didn't you?" Young-Pyo smiled at him. "I understand that."

Uke looked at him, his expression befuddled. "You do?"

"There are things you can't really explain by logic, but you have to do anyway." Young-Pyo said. "It happens."

It's happening to me now, Uke.

"So.you're completely okay with this?"

Young-Pyo sighed deeply. "You mean a lot to me Uke.the last thing I want is to see you hurt. But then I realized-hell, we all get hurt at some point or another, right? And knowing you, I'm sure you'll make it through anything after this."

The cautious look on his best friend's face broke into a wide smile, and Uke launched himself at Young-Pyo, flinging his arms around him.

"Thank you." he whispered.

Young-Pyo hugged him back, hiding tears behind his closed eyes. Only a year ago, holding Uke in his arms meant so much more than this, and it was hard not to feel some lingering residue of those feelings now. At times he just couldn't help but regret having let Uke go, and two nights ago was an example. If Tae-Young hadn't been there.

Young-Pyo sighed deeply. We all get hurt, Uke. We all get hurt. Somewhere down the line, I have a feeling I will have to hurt you. I only hope you can respect my decision the way I'm trying hard to respect yours.

"Listen, Uke." he said as he released his friend. "When we get to Seoul tonight, I don't think I can join you for the ride back to Gyurie."

"Why?"

"Well.I sort of, have other plans."

Uke tilted his head slightly. "Tae-Young?"

"Yes." Young-Pyo. "He wants me to go someplace with him.you know, get out of the city for a while."

"That's fine with me." Uke said. "After all, you do need a vacation."

"Thanks."

"You have fun with him, okay?" he said with a sweet smile.

Young-Pyo tried to return the smile over the twisting he felt inside his gut. The longer he thought about it, the guiltier he became, but he could not, absolutely could not bring himself to tell Uke about it now. He had a feeling it wasn't his place to tell Uke, but maybe that was just the part of him that wanted to shy away from the truth. He just didn't know how Uke would handle it, and he definitely didn't want to break the news to him now, just when he's starting to feel happy again.

A warning voice spoke inside Young-Pyo's head. When the secret got out, somebody was going to be mighty pissed.

We had a late takeout lunch and ate it inside the car, scarfing down portions of bulkoggi and rice with our chopsticks, steam filling the cramped confines of my Rio. The Captain also stopped at a drugstore to get some Aspirin for my headache, and I downed two after my meal and washed it down with a bottle of mineral water.

"Feel better? I was afraid I left you too long out there in the cold." The Captain said as he collected the empty takeout boxes and piled them into a small plastic bag.

"I'm fine." I say as I take another swig of water.

I didn't tell him that Tae-Young had come and talked to me-he would've flipped out. And maybe Tae-Young was right-we weren't ready at that time, it was too soon, both he and I were still trying to come to grips with what had happened-him more than me, since he hardly remembers anything about that night. I'm surprised he was that quick to accept it-I thought denial would last a week or so, but trust the Captain to shove the truth right in his face and force him to see it.

I feel so angry at that old bastard right now. I don't fear him anymore-not with the way he acted towards me this morning, but I just want to gouge his eyes out. So much for friendship, huh?

Now I know how Uke must have felt last night-when I was sitting in front of him, mumbling about how sorry I was, how I know he must find it difficult to forgive me, and so on. I know how irritating it is, having a conversation that was going nowhere. But then again, I also understand Tae-Young's need to say, repeatedly, just how sorry he was.

I believed him-I believed the regret and guilt I saw in his eyes. I believed that he had no intention of hurting me, that he didn't know how it could happen. But damnit, it *did* happen. So excuse me if I'm not feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.

After the Captain discards the trash, he gets back in the car and looks at his watch. "Closing ceremonies starts at five.we should be at the stadium earlier if we don't want to get recognized while we go to our seats."

"Hmmm." I mutter.

"Are you sure you want to watch?" he looks at me. "It can get pretty windy up there."

"I'll be fine, Captain." I assure him. "Wouldn't want to miss a good fireworks display."

"Okay, but as soon as the fireworks are done I'm driving you back to Kwangnyang."

I furrow my brows at him. "But what about you? You still have to go back to."

"I can take a bus to Pohang, no big deal." he says. "What matters to me is getting you home so you can rest and heal up a bit more."

I smile warmly at him. "Thanks."

"Well.we should get going then" he turned the key in the ignition. "The traffic might be heavy-everyone in the city will want to watch the ceremonies."

"Lead the way." I mutter.

Busan Main Asiad Stadium 18.30 p.m. Asian Games 2002 Closing Ceremonies

South Korea never seemed to run out of ideas to turn out a spectacle such as this one. And Tae-Young thought the 1988 Olympics showcased the peak of their grandeur. But this far outdid anything he saw in Seoul, or anything he saw during the World Cup, for that matter.

The colors were brighter, more vibrant, the dancers more synchronized, the music more rousing and grand-he found himself muttering the words to 'Arirang' as the folk song echoed throughout the fully-packed stadium, carried by the multi-million dollar sound system from the stage where the orchestra performed. Ribbons fluttered, drums thundered, children in fancy costumes pranced and danced in intricate formations rehearsed over months of preparation-it was beautiful.

He sat high up the rafters where it was dark, but his position gave him a full view of the formations taking place below. Up here there were empty seats around him, giving him a lot of space to stretch his tired limbs. He'd given his car a full oil check, packed some belongings from his apartment in Kwangnyang, and even went shopping a little to prepare for his little trip with Young-Pyo. Now, it was only a matter of time before he can be with Young-Pyo again and take him on his little escape.

Tae-Young leaned back against his plastic seat and wrapped his jacket tighter around himself-damnit, but it was cold. He couldn't believe some of the flimsy, semi-opaque costumes the dancers were wearing down there, but maybe they were a lot warmer, bathed by watts of floodlights and in constant movement.

He looked around him, where the other spectators up in his level were mostly quiet also. Maybe the upper rafters were reserved for loners, weirdos, and other social outcasts. Well, not all.considering that there were two people a little bit below him who seemed to be enjoying each other's company.

Tae-Young's thoughts stopped dead in their tracks. He squinted, trying to focus his eyes on the two figures seated just below right of his position, huddled close together.

Hong. Hong and Nam-Il.

"You look pale." Hong said worriedly as he looked at Nam-Il's face.

"It's just the cold." Nam-Il answered drowsily. "Hey, is Aspirin supposed to make me sleepy?"

"I don't know." Hong said. "How many did you take?"

"Two."

Hong flung an arm around the boy's shoulder and held him tight as another cold breeze blew past them. The seats were sparsely filled in the upper sections of the stadium, where the shade of the roof gave them the cover of darkness and they wouldn't be so easily recognized. Nam-Il, however, had looked progressively worse since the ceremonies started. He hoped it was just the drugs taking effect, but his guts feared the worst.

"I shouldn't have taken you here." he said. "I should've driven you back home first."

"No, no, no." Nam-Il shook his head. "Fireworks. I want to see the fireworks."

"You're barely coherent." Hong said as Nam-Il leaned heavier against him.

"I don't feel sick." Nam-Il insisted. "Just sleepy."

"Well." Hong looked at the proceedings down in the pitch. "Looks like they're only about to start the parade. Why don't you take a nap first?"

"B-but.the fireworks." Nam-Il said.

"I'll wake you up when the fireworks start." Hong assured him.

Nam-Il regarded him with a drowsy look. "Promise?"

"Promise." Hong said. "Now come on, get over here."

He was thankful for the empty seats around them, because it gave them a lot of space. He turned Nam-Il's body sideways and laid him down gently, settling the midfielder's head on his lap. He let one arm drape around the younger man's body, the other hand stroking through his hair.

"Are your legs cold?"

"No." Nam-Il yawned. "This is.just.fine."

And just like that, he was asleep.

Tae-Young watched with the same burning, clawing sensation in his chest he'd felt last night. The way Hong had his arm wrapped around Nam-Il, the gentle way he looked at the boy, the tenderness of his gestures as he laid Nam-Il across his lap-and when he thought noone was looking, the kiss he planted on the boy's forehead as he slept.

Damn him.damn Hong Myung-Bo. Damn him for being such a fucking perfect role model, for always saying the right things at the right time, always ready to hand out advice, ready to take in and protect whoever sought out his help.damn him for taking what could have been, should have been, Tae-Young's place.

-- For the longest time.I was kind of hoping you wanted that job.--

Why did you have to say that, Nam-Il? Why? Is it because you wanted to hurt me, to return the favor? Well, if that's so, then congratulate yourself-it worked.

Tae-Young felt his face contort in a grimace. He wanted to turn away, but couldn't. Hong was holding Nam-Il protectively, eyes watchfully scanning the crowd as if ready to spring into action if anyone dared to disturb the boy's slumber.

Jealousy burned a hole in his chest-it should've been him, it could've been him. He'd known Nam-Il first, two years before the boy even met Hong, had grown close with him, got to know his little quirks and traits.had known that the boy was constantly looking for someone to rely on in his times of need.

-- He's my rock.my guardian.--

Yes, how perfectly that described Hong Myung-Bo. A stable, ever-present figure to bring Nam-Il back on his two feet and steady him. None of the same can be said for Kim Tae-Young, who can't even handle his liquor.

-- I was kind of hoping you wanted that job.--

Would he have been able to do it? Tae-Young didn't know, but he wanted his chance. He wanted it more than anything now. But how could he? Nam-Il would never trust him again, not after.

Stop, stop, stop. This is not going to get you anywhere. We've been through this before. He's not ready. You're not ready. Think other things. Think happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Think about Young-Pyo. Yes, think about Young-Pyo.

-----------------

Young-Pyo's hand was shaking-and not because it was tired after constantly waving to the crowd as they paraded around the stadium. The entire place was packed full once again, full of colour and noise, and he told himself to enjoy it, but how could he?

The medal that hung around his neck, draping over the front of his national jacket, was not gold. Bronze, not gold. Instead of lifting him up, it weighed him down. While South Korea made good on their promise to dethrone Japan for the second-place spot-nobody was going to contend with the Chinese for the first-it still felt like a hollow, unfulfilled promise. No football gold. How could that be? No football gold. In a tournament that didn't even count as international caps. How, how, how.

"Don't think about it." Uke muttered as he marched beside him.

Young-Pyo, a little startled, looked at his best friend. "Huh?"

"Don't think about it." Uke repeated. "It won't help. Just grit your teeth and wave your hand like a silly clown"

Young-Pyo smiled sympathetically. "You hate these parades too, don't you?"

"Now I know what Chun-Soo was talking about when he said he hated closing ceremonies." Uke muttered. "Not to mention the speeches."

"Oh, the speeches." Young-Pyo groaned. "I just want to get the hell out of here."

"Well, put on your best smile for now." Uke nudged him. "We're about to pass the VIP tribune."

Young-Pyo frowned. "And who am I supposed to impress?"

"The president, you idiot." Uke hissed. "And the TV audiences who will *not* appreciate seeing their players chatting to each other while passing in front of the VIP tribune."

"Oh, yeah-right." Young-Pyo quickly regained his composure.

-----------------------

As the contingents were lined up on the pitch and the speeches were made, Hong found it increasingly difficult to stay awake himself. He couldn't care less what was being said, he just waited for the speakers to come up to the microphone and saying in his head, make it quick, you fools.

At long last, the final speaker stepped down from the podium, and then it was time for the Asian Games torch to be snuffed out. He began nudging Nam-Il awake.

"Hey, wake up." he said.

"H-huh?" Nam-Il squinted his eyes and rubbed at them. "What?"

"They're about to put out the flame. After that, it's the fireworks."

"Oh.okay, then." Nam-Il pulled himself up, his blonde hair tussled and his eyes blinking drowsily. "Where am I?"

Hong snorted and helped the younger man to an upright position. "Asian Games closing ceremony. Fireworks, remember?"

"Oh yeah, fireworks." Nam-Il nodded. "Where?"

Hong pointed to the sky. "Just wait for it."

Then, as if on cue, the flame of the Asian Games torch went out. And then the skies lit up with a multitude of shapes and colours, the crowd roaring like crazy. Nam-Il leaned against Hong and gazed skywards, his expression dreamy. "Wow."

Hong held Nam-Il tight against his chest and looked up, mesmerized. Spirals danced and rockets flared, shapes he'd never seen fireworks make before. Green flames spun around each other, yellow and blue crisscrossing against the night sky. Red rosettes blossomed, one after another, and the roof of the stadium lit up when special launchers created a curtain of yellow sparks along the ellipse, framing the spectacle up above.

The orchestra began another rousing rendition of 'Arirang' and he found himself singing in Nam-Il's ears, the younger man's face looking up with childlike awe, his lips smiling beautifully. The crowd roared their appreciation-the fireworks looked alive, dancing their own configurations, in rhythm to the music, dazzling them with colours and shapes that brightened the velvet darkness of a cold October night.

It was the longest fireworks display Hong had ever seen, and certainly the most beautiful. And judging by the look on his face, Nam-Il was enjoying it as well. He almost felt regret when it was finally over, but part of him was glad because now, finally, he could take Nam-Il home.

"Come on." he said. "Time to get you back to Kwangnyang."

"What?"

"I told you, didn't I? We leave as soon as the fireworks are over. I don't think there'll be anything interesting happening after this, anyway."

"Oh, okay."

"Come on, get up." Hong pulled Nam-Il to stand beside him. "I hope you don't fall asleep again before we get to the car."

Nam-Il laughed softly and followed him out of their seats.

--------------------------

Tae-Young watched them as they left, a hollow ache opening up inside him. He'd been torn during the fireworks display between watching the spectacle up above or watching Nam-Il's face as he saw it-he couldn't decide which was more beautiful. The boy's face had taken on an expression he'd never seen, and certainly not in the last few days. He'd looked up at the colourful display above him and smiled dreamily, eyes sparkling like a little child's.

And Hong held him, held him and whispered words in his ears.

Tae-Young would kill, he absolutely would kill, to be able to see that look on Nam-Il's face again, to be able to say that he was the one who put it there, who gave the boy his peace. But no, it wasn't him. It was Hong. It was Hong who held him and kept him close, gave him his comfort, shielded him from harm.

The two seats were now empty, and as the crowd roared into a rousing applause of the spectacle they'd just been presented with, Tae-Young shrunk into his own seat, inclosed within the noise.

"I'm sorrry, Nam-Il." he whispered painfully. "Please forgive me."

-- You want to make it up to me? Be good to Young-Pyo.--

He repeated the words over and over in his head, like a mantra to strengthen his weakened heart, trying to remember the faint smile he saw on Nam-Il's face, anything that would help him out of this hole he'd dug himself into.

-- Be good to Young-Pyo.--

------------------------

They tidied up Chong-Gug's house and made sure everything was as it was when they arrived, and Nam-Il wrote a note for any of Chong-Gug's family members who would come here to clean the place up about their little visit. Then they got inside Nam-Il's Rio and began the ride back to Kwangnyang.

Nam-Il was asleep the entire way, Hong driving swiftly but not too fast, hoping to get there in time for him to catch the late night bus to Pohang. He'd called his wife and explained to her that he would be home just as soon as Nam-Il was safely in his apartment, and she had understood. Hurry up, though, she said, the kids miss you.

Sung-Min had drawn him a picture he desperately wanted to show him, and Cheong-Min had been playing with blocks all day, building what he said was 'Daddy's Stadium'. He smiled as he thought about them, promising to himself that he would spend some quality time with them once he got back.

They got to Kwangnyang just as the clock struck ten, and arrived at Nam-Il's apartment building shortly after that. He nudged the boy awake, and he retrieved all of his belongings from the back seat before getting out of the car.

"I can manage." he said drowsily. "You don't have to come up."

"I'll go up." Hong insisted. "Not that I don't trust you, but just so I can take the bus ride home in peace."

"Are you sure you don't want the car?" Nam-Il offered. "I can pick it up when my club goes to Pohang again."

"No, I'll be just fine." Hong assured him. "Come on, let's get inside."

They took an elevator up to Nam-Il's floor, and Nam-Il opened the door to his apartment, stepping aside to let Hong in. "After you.sorry, it's a bit messy."

Hong walked inside, thinking to himself-so this is where it all began. Where Ji-Sung came two days ago, and inadvertently set the ball rolling. The good thing was that since Nam-Il obviously thought he'd not be gone for long, he'd left his heating system on.

He sat in the living room as Nam-Il went to change his clothes, and returned the clothes he borrowed from Hong inside a plastic bag. "I could wash this for you first."

"No, I'll just take it." Hong said and he set the bag beside him on the couch. "Is your bedroom warm enough?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Well, get in bed, then.I can show myself the way out. Your door auto-locks when it's closed from outside, right?"

"Yeah." Nam-Il said. "Bedroom's this way."

Hong followed, and helped Nam-Il into his bed, drawing up the thick blankets for him. He also took the Aspirin bottle they bought in Busan and put it on the bedside table.

"If you feel dizzy again, just take one of these.and skip Thursday training. Call your club, have them send a doctor if you have to."

"Yes, Dad." Nam-Il said.

Hong laughed. "You know.for a twenty-five year old guy, you can be such a baby sometimes."

"I know." Nam-Il nodded. "Hey, not that you mind, right?"

"I have two at home. One more can't hurt." Hong smiled at him. "Take care of yourself."

"I will." Nam-Il said. "Oh, and Captain?"

"What?"

"Thank you. I really don't know what else to say."

"Never mind it." Hong said. "Good night, Nam-Il."

"Good night."

He left the bedroom and got his things from the couch, walking out of the apartment and closing the door behind him, making sure that it was firmly locked. Checking his watch, he decided that he could catch the eleven p.m. bus, is he was quick enough to catch a cab to the station.

He glanced at the door one more time, feeling a sense of achievement. He'd done his duty. He'd taken good care of the boy. The rest of it, he thought, was now up to him.

Take care of yourself, Nam-Il.

On to Part 28