Hyerin grunted as she fell none too gently on the floor.

“Come on, Rin. That's all you got?” her older brother Jonghyun teased. He lunged over her frame with his hands on his knees as he continued with his taunting. “Mom didn't train you for ten years for me to kick your so easily, right?”

“Shut your big mouth, you little-” She pounced on Jonghyun and pinned him to the floor, throwing multiple punches to his face. Hyerin grinned wickedly as he tried to unsuccessfully block her attacks, and was about to throw him another one when he managed to wriggle out of her grip. He caught her knuckles just in time and twisted her arm, making her cry out in pain.

“!” Having no other option, she bit his shoulder. He yelped and pushed her away in surprise, clutching the spot he was bitten as he watched his sister get up from the floor with a smug.

He stood up and spun around, attacking her right away with a roundhouse kick. Unfortunately for him, she dodged and caught his leg. With all her strength and without any hesitation whatsoever, Hyerin lifted his leg with two hands, twisted it hard enough without breaking it, and watched gleefully as her brother yelped and 

collapsed to the ground.

For a good five seconds, nobody moved.

Jonghyun opened an eye to look up at Hyerin, his chest rising and falling. “Damn you,” he wheezed.

“And that's what you get when you mock me during training,” Hyerin said breathlessly, heading out of the big practice room they frequented in.

Choosing to hold back her true abilities was probably the hardest thing for Hyerin when sparring with her brother. If she was being perfectly honest—and with not even the slightest bit of bragging despite her tendency to do just that—she was hands down way better than the boy in any kind of self-defense. If it were anyone else, she wouldn’t even think twice, but this was her brother, and she didn’t want to hurt him seriously.

I can beat him just fine without exerting too much effort anyway, she thought to herself with a smirk.

With a satisfied huff, she walked out the door to his living room. Jonghyun got up with a groan and followed. 

“Hey, I was just trying to trigger that little beast in you," the twenty-two year-old said, making a beeline towards the fridge to fetch Hyerin and himself some water, “and look—it worked!”

“Yes, whatever.” She rolled her eyes with a grin and sat in one of the stools in front of the kitchen counter.

Her eyes passed Jonghyun’s expensive condo; Jonghyun was rich for his young age, and it was the result of his career as a well-known model. Since a teen, it was pretty much laid out in front of him, what his future would be. With his natural charming looks and chiseled body courtesy of his obsession with working out, it was no doubt he was going to be very successful in that kind of industry.

“What are you looking at, Rin? Finally realizing how hot your brother is?” Jonghyun chuckled, sliding the glass of water across the counter.

She caught the glass with both hands. Her nose crinkled. “Ew. Don't say that. It's weird. Kind of -y." Jonghyun stuck out his tongue at her. "But as much as I would terribly hate to admit it, yeah. You are looking pretty good lately.”

"O-kay. That does sound a little -y."

"A little?"

He shrugged. She took a sip of her water.

Jonghyun sighed and rested his elbows on top of the counter. “So how's dad? Still busy with work?”

Hyerin nodded. “Mhm. But he has the day off today and tomorrow from what I can remember, though we all know he's just avoiding the load of stress waiting for him,” she said. “In fact, I think he's making dinner tonight. Want to come over?”

His nose scrunched in refusal. “Nah, I'll pass. My manager, Yunjae, is coming over in thirty minutes to talk about some paperwork or something.”

Hyerin beamed. “Aww, look at you with your world class fame and infinite advertisement offers. Acting all professional with your paperwork and ,” she teased.

Jonghyun flipped her off. “Oh, shut up. Trust me, I would rather do something else.”

She shook her head in amusement as she stood to pick up her bag from the floor. “Well, I better go. I promised dad I would be home around eight-thirty.”

“Okay, then. Sorry I couldn't drive you home. Yunjae's being an .” He kissed the top of her head. “Take care, you brat.”

She nodded and headed towards the door. “See you!”

“Yeah, and tell dad I'll make it up to him next time.”

- - - - - 

“Welcome home, honey!”

Hyerin slammed the door behind her, eyelids fluttering closed as she took in the scent of the mouth-watering aroma of her father's cooking. 

“What are you making?” she asked incredulously, heading straight towards the kitchen.

“Salisbury steak with mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables on the side,” Myungjae, her father, brightly announced.

"Nice." She grinned. She took a peek at the dish before kissing him on the cheek. “This is seriously the best. Thanks, dad.”

"You haven't even tasted it yet."

"How was your day?"

“How was your day?” he returned, splitting the food into two separate plates. 

Hyerin shrugged. “It was okay, I guess. School was boring like always.”

He gave her a pointed look.

“...But I still cope with it somehow?” she added with a cheeky grin. “Then I went to Jonghyun's.”

“Hey, don't bother your brother too much. I think you're forgetting that he's a busy man now,” he said, handing her a plate of food.

Hyerin murmured thanks. “I know, but he's the one who keeps calling me.”

He snickered to himself. “What do you guys do anyway? You're always up to something.”

Hyerin peeked at him from the corner of her eye, watched as he poured himself a glass of wine. He was an extremely clever, extremely wealthy entrepreneur, but Hyerin was never sure what kind. She never asked. He was the type of man who knew everything about the whole marketing industry, knew all information and detail that normal people wouldn't know. He had mastered how to make his colleagues shut up with just one word, mastered how to make anyone in his presence feel stupid. He was quick-witted and smart like that.

But he had yet to find out what Hyerin and Jonghyun were up to.

“Oh, you know. Just chilling,” she shrugged casually, slicing the steak with her knife, “talking about stuff.”

“What stuff?” 

“Stuff old men shouldn't be meddling about,” she teased, earning herself a flick on the forehead. “Ow!”

“Here I am cooking food for you and you call me an old man?” Myungjae chuckled. “What did Hana teach you, huh?”

Just by the mention of her late mother, the room fell silent. 

Hyerin's eyes softened, the corners of her lips tugging upwards. “A lot of things, dad.”

She could tell he was taken aback too, always never comfortable talking about his  ex-wife. Nevertheless, he nodded, barely returning her smile. “Alright. Go finish your food and do your homework after, okay?”

Hyerin stuck her tongue out. "I finished it already."

“You did? Damn you. And I thought I would be having the T.V. all to myself tonight!” he whined, making Hyerin laugh as she poked him playfully with the fork in her hand.

 - - - - -

Hyerin stared blankly at the wall, absentmindedly polishing her weapons with a small cloth. Knowing how to fight hand-to-hand was completely different from actually knowing how to use guns and knives. If Myungjae only knew she was skilled in both, it would not only result to a lifetime of being grounded.

Hyerin sighed and laid back against the headboard. Her gaze landed on her bedside table, and atop of it was a wooden picture frame with a slight crack in the middle. She grabbed the frame and stared at the fourteen year-old version of herself and another woman who had the same inky hair and fair skin.

Lee Hana. Her mother.

It had been almost three years since her mother's death. There was no denying that it was tragic, but seeing it happen with her very own eyes simply made describing the incident as 'tragic' an understatement. Remembering the look of pain on her mother's face, the way she struggled to form words as blood uncontrollably spurted out of her quaint mouth—it hurt her.

The pain and anger Hyerin felt never really went away. Nothing was enough to make it okay, even when the police gave her useless words of comfort or even when her father that she had not seen for so long took her in. It wasn't enough. Nothing made the image of her mother's terrifying bloodshot eyes go away. 

Hyerin ran a tired hand through her face and walked towards her door to lock it. She went back to her bed and took five polished knives in her hand. Heaving a deep breath, she faced the wall where her dart board was and squared her shoulders to focus as she flung the knives one by one at the board, aiming for it to hit the center.

If only she could turn back time. Maybe she could have saved her.

It was that kind of night three years ago, May 22nd, Tuesday, where everything just felt so wrong. She had another day of being bored in school and the usual dump of homework. She even burned her middle finger while boiling water in the kitchen, and the weather wasn't exactly cooperative, too.

Fourteen year-old Kim Hyerin nervously bit her fingernails as she stared at the clock on the wall of their small apartment. 10:32, it said. Her mom was supposed to be home an hour and a half ago. 

The feeling of unrelenting anxiety had her heart beating fast and her legs shaking violently, but there wasn't enough bravery in her just yet to make her stand up and look for her mother, not enough self-assurance to know if it was the right thing to do or if she was worrying over nothing. But she swallowed the last bit of her uncertainty anyway, and stood up from the couch to head over to the kitchen. With shaking hands, she reached for one of the drawers where she knew the pistol was. Her mom said so. And so she took a deep breath, grabbed the gun, and stepped out the front door.

Maybe it was another one of her mom's tests for her. Hopefully.

Without thinking, she charged through the streets, disregarding the rain that poured heavily that night. It wasn't even a full minute yet and she was already drenched.

She scanned the dead streets for her mother, gripping the gun tightly inside her jacket pocket with apprehension. She searched in the most unusual places, turned corners, and crossed multiple streets, yet Lee Hana was nowhere to be found.

Panic started to rise from the pit of her stomach up to and she felt like she was going to vomit. Her mother was not one to suddenly go off somewhere without telling Hyerin about it. Maybe she was overthinking. Maybe her mother was finally back in the apartment this whole time, while Hyerin was there in the middle of the streets, searching for her. The thought gave her a sense of relief, but she refused to fall into comfort too quickly. She turned left on another corner that day and was surprised to be met with a dark alleyway.

All hope went down the drain when her eyes caught an all too familiar yellow jacket dirtied up in a pile of cartons and trash. M-LX, it said on the sleeve of the garment.

Her eyes squinted at this as she took her gun out of her jacket pocket. She pointed it at the darkness before her, readying herself to use it if necessary while she walked further down the pavement.

As she grew closer, her eyes adjusted to the dark and was forced to halt into a stop.

There, lying limply on the ground, covered in rain, grime, and blood, was her mother. 

With her only weapon long forgotten and left on the ground, Hyerin's knees buckled underneath her. A big pool of blood underneath her mother's unmoving body was slowly spreading out on the pavement. Blood was coming out of bullet holes and strange marks all over her mother's body, the sight so grotesque that before Hyerin even realized it, she was projectile vomiting all over the ground.

She wiped as her eyes began to well up with tears watching her mother struggle with each breath she took. 

“H-Hyeri-” she stammered, “Hyerin.”

“Mom," she whispered in disbelief. "Mom, hold on...I-I, oh god,” she cried, not knowing what to do. Hana brushed a loose strand of her hair and pushed it back from young Hyerin's face. “Who did this to you!?”

“Hyerin, it...” Hana shook under Hyerin's hold. “...I–It won't end like, l-like this...” she stuttered, blood trailing from down to her chin. “Soon it will be your time. B-Be careful-”

Hyerin stared at her with confusion. “Mom, what are you talking about!? Mom, don't. Please. Don't leave me, mom, please, I-”

“I love you, Hyerin. Always,” she said with her last breath, her head tilting to the side with finality.

Coming back to reality, a lone tear escaped her. She hastily wiped it away. That was three years ago, Hyerin, she thought. Quit with the sulking.

Looking to her front, she grinned at the sight of five daggers on the dartboard, all bunched up together in the center. Thank god for soundproof walls.

She approached the board to pluck out the knives one by one with her spirits slowly lifting.

Whatever her mom meant the night she was murdered, she was more than prepared for it.