Heung Soo was kissing him and all Nam Soon thought of was the word being spat at him, of that ing iljjang years ago calling him a prancing , when he was eleven and he came home from Heung Soo’s limping from a fight and his drunk-as- dad asking if Heung Soo had been ing him in the arse with that goddamn sneer. But most of all he thought of a few hours ago, of I don’t want to be gay, and it all mixed with the rage at that little yangachi that was still swimming through his system and before he realised he’d even moved or made a conscious effort to do so his fist flew into Heung Soo’s face.

“What the are you doing?!” Nam Soon screamed, voice rising and falling in pitch in the beginnings of hysterics.

The punch was hard; causing Heung Soo to stumble back a few steps, cutting a split in to his cheek that immediately began bleeding, and there would be an ugly bruise forming soon, but Nam Soon hardly registered this in his built up fury and the shock of what had just happened.

He wanted to shout and scream and rage but his mind was wiped clean and clouded with a sense of betrayal. He couldn’t form suitable words, so he punched Heung Soo again blindly, mind disassociated from his body and he had no idea what the he was doing, just that he was angry.

His blood boiled when Heung Soo didn’t react, as if nothing happened, as if Nam Soon hadn’t just split his skin and blood was streaming down his face to fall from his chin and stain his shirt in remembrance of what he’d done, of what Nam Soon had done. So Nam Soon kicked out, his foot connecting with Heung Soo’s bad leg and he fell like a brick, heavy and at an awkward angle, knee bent in a way that surely hurt his leg even more. Nam Soon dropped to his knees besides him, vision blurring with tears from the small voice in the back of his head screaming to stop, just ing stop, what are you doing?! as he grabbed Heung Soo by the blazer with one hand and brought his other to punch him again.

“What right - what ing right do you have to do that?!” He’d gotten his voice back, admittedly raw and cutting, but the anger didn’t diminish. In fact, it only seemed to grow as his fist flew and the first tears from his own stinging eyes fell with it, dropping to mix with Heung Soo’s blood.

However the pain in his leg seemed to cause an instinctive reaction in Heung Soo and his fist connected with Nam Soon’s face before Nam Soon could land the next blow.

The force unbalanced him and he used the hand he was going to hit Heung Soo with to keep himself from tipping over. Heung Soo used the opportunity to get to his feet and Nam Soon tensed, ready to rush forward and knock him over again, but then Heung Soo’s leg buckled just slightly under his weight and Nam Soon’s breath hitched in his throat.

He stayed where he was, tensed and crouched and face wet with still falling tears as Heung Soo took a few unsteady steps back, bleeding from his cheek and lip.

Nam Soon fists hurt and his knuckles were red from the impact of the blows and smeared dots of Heung Soo’s blood. Tears erased his vision until Heung Soo was just a blur, just the shapeless figure he saw when he hit him, like he wasn’t Heung Soo, just a fuzzy shape standing amongst a larger blur. He hiccupped a quite sob.

He’d just purposefully attacked Heung Soo’s bad leg, the leg that was only like that in the first place because of him. What was he doing? Nam Soon knows he still has anger issues and a violent temper, but he also knows he’s learnt good control over his temper. However, when he loses it, he really loses it. But to lose it on Heung Soo? (Again.) To lash out at Heung Soo’s most vulnerable point? What would he have done if he hadn’t seen Heung Soo’s leg almost give? If he hadn’t snapped out of his rage at that, he would have seriously hurt him. There was no could about it; Nam Soon would have continued until Heung Soo found some way to throw him off.

Is it true you used to beat him up? That’s why his leg’s ed?

Bile burnt a path up Nam Soon’s throat and he lurched away from Heung Soo, scrambling to his feet.

“I-I didn’t mean,” Nam Soon tried to explain, desperate for Heung Soo to understand he didn’t mean to hurt him. “But you-”

Heung Soo had kissed him. Only a brush of lips, but it was a kiss and he didn’t have any right to do that!

But there were thin streams of blood falling down Heung Soo’s face and purple bruising marring his lightly tanned skin, and what right did Nam Soon have to do that?

He should leave, he should just ing leave because he destroys everything, he should leave right now before-

“Don’t go.”

Heung Soo’s voice was barely above a whisper. It was a plea rather than a request. There was desperation in those two little words that stilled Nam Soon’s entire being, because Heung Soo had never sounded like that before. Heung Soo was strong, he’d always been emotionally strong, far more than Nam Soon had ever been. He’d never uttered words with that desperate, broken voice before. It tore into Nam Soon’s chest and ripped out his heart. , what had he done?

“I’m sorry,” and Heung Soo was doing nothing to dispel the tears wetting his own eyes. “I’m sorry, Nam Soon-ah.”

And just like that the kiss was insignificant, because nothing, nothing, could come above Heung Soo. Nothing could ever be as important as him. Every problem, every fear, every doubt in the world paled in comparison to Heung Soo’s tears. But Nam Soon had put them there. He put his anger before Heung Soo.

“I’m sorry,” Heung Soo repeated, voice cracking with the flow of emotion. “I didn’t – I just -”

Nam Soon pulled him into his arms and held him like he’d vanish away forever if he let go. Heung Soo’s blood and tears wetting his shirt were his fault and they sunk through onto the skin of his shoulder like the ink of a tattoo, marking him for every pain he’d caused Heung Soo, spreading out like visible poison for each hit, each harsh word.

“I just need you to understand,” Heung Soo begged, clutching on to Nam Soon to the point his fingertips were digging in to Nam Soon’s flesh, but Nam Soon didn’t care about the pain, he just held Heung Soo to him as tightly as he could. “I thought you hated me for leaving first. When – when you broke my leg, when you didn’t come back to me, I thought you hated me.” His voice was small, breaking at the end, a weakness Nam Soon had caused and he hated himself for it. “I didn’t even know if it was an accident, or if you’d shattered my leg on purpose.”

Nam Soon’s heart was breaking all over again, because how could Heung Soo ever think, for even one second, that Nam Soon would do that to him on purpose? That he could ever hate him for anything? But what was Heung Soo supposed to think when Nam Soon ran away, how could he know that?

His own tears were falling harder now, an uncontrollable flow he couldn’t stop if he wanted too and a part of him screamed at himself to not listen to any more because it hurt, but how could he not? He would listen to all of Heung Soo’s problems, big or trivial, and he’d do anything within his power to make Heung Soo happy again. His heart was aching at seeing Heung Soo like this.

“You left me and I was alone. My sister was busy working to take care of our mum, mum was too ill and I didn’t have anyone. I couldn’t help bring in money when I couldn’t walk, I couldn’t help care for my family and I promised, I promised my mum I would go to Seoul and get lots of money so she could be cured. You…” Heung Soo’s voice broke, his next words were hardly audible, as though he needed to force the words out but didn’t want Nam Soon to hear them. But Nam Soon heard them as though they were being branded into his very blood stream, carried down every vain to every inch of his body by red hot fire. “You ruined that.”

Nam Soon’s tears fell faster than Heung Soo’s and he couldn’t even beg for forgiveness through the painful lump in his throat. He couldn’t offer any comfort because it couldn’t be fixed with apologetic words. He’d destroyed Heung Soo’s life, he’d taken away his mothers last chance. There were no foul enough words to describe what Nam Soon was, so he just clung on to Heung Soo in silent desperation and wished it all away.

“You ruined it and I hated you, I wanted you to be miserable, I wanted you to hate yourself for the rest of your life, but… but I wanted you with me. I didn’t know what to do without you. I ing hated you but I didn’t know how to live without you. You were meant to be there, you bad bastard!”

A heavy hit landed to Nam Soon’s chest, but he didn’t lose his grip, pulling Heung Soo with him as his knees gave out. They were on the floor a moment later and Nam Soon didn’t fully understand how they got there but he was glad they did because he didn’t have the strength to stand. All his energy fell with his tears and all he could do was continue to cling to Heung Soo.

“You were meant to be there and you weren’t. You left me and I-” Heung Soo’s voice cracked and broke off again and Nam Soon buried his head into his neck.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Heung Soo-ya, I’m sorry,” he repeated the mantra into Heung Soo’s skin, hoping the words would sink through to his heart and somehow make this all better.

“I wanted you back,” Heung Soo said over his mantra, and Nam Soon stopped to listen, still hid away between Heung Soo’s chin and shoulder, dampening his neck with his heavy breaths and tears. “All those years I just wanted you back.”

Nam Soon was dislodged from his position as Heung Soo pulled away slightly, far enough that he could look over Nam Soon. “I found you but you’re different. I don’t even understand this new Nam Soon.” He stayed still as Heung Soo ran a trembling finger across his cheek, like a blind man trying to understand what was in front of him. “I miss my Nam Soon. The old Nam Soon, my Nam Soon, he was violent and unpredictable. He solved problems with his fists, he would start problems with his fists.” The finger left Nam Soon and Heung Soo brought it to his own cheek, running it across the still bleeding cut. He took Nam Soon’s hand and Nam Soon stared down at it as Heung Soo’s bloody finger caressed over the back of his hand, leaving a streak of red behind. “He wasn’t alive until his hands were bloody.”

He didn’t understand what Heung Soo wanted. He looked from his hand to Heung Soo’s eyes, but the other boys gaze was still on Nam Soon’s hand, trailing his still red finger through the streak of blood, spreading it thin before it dried up and crumbled away.

Nam Soon was different; he was no longer Tsunami, no longer an iljjang, no longer a bitter child lost in his anger at the world. When he first lost Heung Soo he’d become a frightened, wandering little boy, afraid of his own shadow which seemed to haunt him with all his mistakes. But then he built himself with up with his regret as the foundation in to the Nam Soon of today.

Heung Soo may miss his iljjang, but Nam Soon never wanted to go back to that. It was Tsunami, the rage of old Nam Soon, that hurt Heung Soo. But new Nam Soon; he would protect Heung Soo at all costs. From now on he vowed that he’d never lay a hand formed by anger on Heung Soo again.

“This new Nam Soon is for you,” he promised, pulling his hand from Heung Soo’s bloody grip to run it comfortingly through Heung Soo’s hair. “I never want to hurt you again, so I can’t go back to who I was. I can’t. I’m sorry, Heung Soo-ya, I’m sorry you spent those years looking for a replacement me because the me you knew is gone. I can’t be your iljjang, I can’t be Tsunami, but I want to be your Nam Soon.” His hand left Heung Soo’s hair, cupping his cheek and rubbing away the blood with his thumb. He leaned forward so his forehead pressed against Heung Soo’s and he could feel the others breath on his lips. “Though… I’m not sure in what way that is.”

He watched as Heung Soo closed his eyes and relaxed in to his touch, breath steadying, and in turn Nam Soon felt his own heart beginning to settle.

Looking at him now, Nam Soon’s mind went back to the fight with Jung Ho, Ji Hoon and Yi Kyung, when all five were arrested last year. Jung Ho had later mentioned in passing that Heung Soo had no interest in fighting until Nam Soon came. He remembered that smile on Heung Soo’s face when he saw him, the excitement right before he landed the first blow on Jung Ho. He remembered the bloody toothed delight when Nam Soon let go and attacked Jung Ho (because that’s what it was; an attack. It certainly wasn’t a fair fight, not against Tsunami). At the time Nam Soon didn’t think to question it, all he saw was an injured Heung Soo and he lost control. But now as he thought about it he realised what Heung Soo had done. He hadn’t even attempted to fight Jung Ho. Even with a bum leg Jung Ho wasn’t a match for Heung Soo; he’d proved that fighting Jung Ho’s old gangster buddies alongside Nam Soon. He proved it when he confessed to living so recklessly; violently enough to put him on probation. He’d said he tried to find another Nam Soon, but all those other iljjangs were easily defeated, which meant that Heung Soo fought them. No, Heung Soo may have been put at an unplanned disadvantage by not realising Jung Ho knew about his leg, but Heung Soo got in to that fight with Jung Ho with the intention of losing because he wanted Tsunami back, he wanted the Nam Soon he knew and grew to love, and he knew exactly how to draw Tsunami out.

And Nam Soon remembered how good he felt, how he truly felt alive for the first time since leaving Heung Soo when he let loose, when he was Tsumani again.

Because the truth is… Nam Soon loves fighting. The emotion in it is pure. There is no lie in the swing of a first, there is no misunderstanding a blow that leaves you gasping. Never had he found a greater feeling than beating someone to the ground; being himself with no holdbacks, no what if’s, no doubt in that moment, just pure, unblemished feeling. It was his drug; the adrenaline, the hot blood rushing through his veins, the feel of his knuckles tearing skin, bone on bone; it’s what got him through his life when otherwise he just wanted to throw it away. Even taking hits lit up the dull bleakness that was his life; the numbed down emotions created by his environment would shine so blindingly. He was truly, undeniably alive when he fought.

But he could be too vicious; those times Heung Soo had to pull him back when he didn’t stop; the complete lack of care when people would look at him with terror in their eyes. It took until he ruined Heung Soo’s leg for him to truly see himself, to see the kind of person he’d become. After that day he didn’t want to be Tsunami any longer, not when he would look at himself in the mirror and feel physically sick. He just wanted to be Go Nam Soon and today drilled that point home. He couldn’t hold on to that anger any longer, he needed to find some way of finally killing Tsunami, but how could he do that if Heung Soo hasn’t let go of him?

He pulled Heung Soo back against his chest, arms around him securely. “This me is your me. I won’t go back to how I was. I can’t go back to being that when I have to be this to move forward, so that I can look at myself without shame.” He placed a light kiss on Heung Soo’s cut cheek, then his cut lip. “So you can look at me and not see the harm I caused you in the past but the warmth I’ll give you in the future.”