THIS CHAPTER AGAIN IS EXACTLY LIKE THE OLD VERSION BUT STARTING WITH THE NEXT CHAPTER THERE WILL BE NEW STUFF SO YYAAYYAYA^^

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Chapter 2: This Life

November 2012

Impatient about being so close yet so far away I typed in the pass code, the device reading my fingerprint as I did so; the first step of many to enter my home. The gate slid open and I hurried into the luxurious mansion, entering the garage code and slipping in that way. But, I didn’t stay there long. When I first came to stay at Anastasiya when I was 8, I had marveled at the luxurious home, and disliked the dark corridors beneath her splendor. But soon I came to realize how pointless Anastasiya was—well, not pointless. She was our cover up. She was the “home” that Nikita and I lived in with our “workers.” In reality, we did everything below, where his…business was set up. His business being drug dealing and an array of other illegal activities. And our workers technically were workers, only, they didn’t do housework or cleaning. They were business partners, trainees, and employees for my father. I skipped to my room, lifted up the blankets on my bed, typed in the pass code, answered the Security question (that changed every day) then scanned my eye. After that the solid metal sheet slid away and I slid under my bed, pulling the sheets down as I went. Trapped in the solid metal box that had forced me to get over my mild claustrophobia, I scanned both my hands on either side, and then said my name for voice recognition. As soon as it was verified it was me, the elevator dropped down, turned upright so I was standing and dropped me off in the office below. I exited the elevator, which immediately began its return trip back to my room, and headed straight into my father’s waiting arms.

                “Papa,” I gasped into his chest as he hugged me tight.

                “Ah, my Kira. My sweet, sweet Kira,” he repeated over and over into my hair. “I was so worried. Two weeks you were gone. I thought he still had you…”

                “No, Papa, I was safe,” I reassured him as we separated and he headed to his usual seat; the large black leather armchair he always resided in, and I sat opposite his desk in the plush black seats.

                “Which I am forever thankful for,” he told me. “If I lost you…I wouldn’t…I don’t know. Which is why…” he paused, eyeing me wearily. This can’t be good. “Kira, I-I’m cutting off your training. You can no longer go on missions.” My mouth dropped open, but he continued before I could interrupt him. “You’re too young, it’s too dangerous, and now Grigorio and the others all know your exact face. I can’t let you go.”

                I was speechless; it had been 4 years since I went on my first mission at 16. I had gone on dozens, maybe even hundreds!, all successful. Well, of course except for this last one… “Papa, you can’t…you can’t stop me. I trained for 7 years for this. I’m well trained! You know I am! What happened was one mission, one time.”

                He didn’t meet my eyes as he continued to speak. “Kira, you’re going to Korea.”

                “North. Korea, right?” I whispered.

                “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

                “Papa! Listen to me! I don’t need to stop—“

                “Look at you!” he suddenly exploded, cutting me off. “Look at yourself! How many broken ribs?! Four, five? Your jaw is broken, your knee cap is probably shattered and healing wrong. You’ve got more bruises than ever before, and more scars will form from that beating than even I have! Kira, you don’t understand. What happened to you, what he did to you, was not the worst possible scenario.  If he had known you were my daughter…you’re lucky he wasn’t very bright. You need to be realistic. You’re 20 years old, still a child. You need to go to school. Which is why I’ve enrolled you at Seoul University.”

                “I…I don’t want to go to college. I already know everything they could teach me,” I disagreed weakly.

                My father sighed. “Of course the education here is better…but I think…I failed you, as a father.”

                I shook my head, instantly regretting it as electric pain shot from my neck. “No,” I disagreed. “No, you were a great father, I just—I don’t understand why you’re suddenly second-guessing yourself. I’m more prepared for the world than anyone else could have made me.”

                My father gave me a sad smile. “That’s just it, Kira, dear. You’re too prepared. You’re a college student, you should be having fun and getting to know friends. You don’t have a single person to talk to here…I’ve made sure of that,” he added, pain and regret lacing his voice.

                “No, Papa, please don’t do this… I don’t—I don’t need a regular teenager’s life. Please Papa! I’m so happy here, don’t send me away to a whole new place. Don’t make me change.” I was on the verge of tears. It was just so frustrating! I had no say in this…any of this!  

               My father sighed. “I’m sorry. You’ll start school after you recover from surgery.”

                “Surgery?!” I gasped as I felt a needle filled with the strongest anesthetic possible puncture the skin on my neck.

+++

                “She’s waking,” I heard a doctor call, his voice sounding far away.

                My eyes fluttered open to reveal I was in the hospital, my father’s private one under Anastasiya, of course. Damn doctors and their crazy technology that knew when I was waking up before I was even awake…

                “Hi, Darling,” I heard my father’s voice greet me. Papa. Who was sending me off to South Korea to attend a college… Wait…Papa? Why was he here? He never came to my surgeries. He let me recuperate alone and greeted me once I was well again. This couldn’t be good…

                “What did you do? What’s wrong?” I instantly asked. “What. Did you do?”

                Papa gazed at me calmly. “You needed this,” he told me, handing me a mirror.

                Oh God, oh no, oh no, oh no. I’d been avoiding facial reconstruction for a while. Ever since the first time I broke my nose my father had suggested it. To hide my identity after my missions and to fix any impurities. But I had refused, adamantly refused. No matter how flawed my skin was I was at least still me. Now, now I…who was I? Who out there had the exact same nose or jaw line as me? Who did the doctor base my eyes off of? And who else did he give them to? My eyes were larger than before, my previously sharpened jaw line similar but not quite the same. Although in description every feature was similar, I looked worlds different, to me, at least.

                “I needed to,” Papa told me softly. “You were beautiful before but you were in danger.”

                “Sending me to Korea wasn’t enough? You had to go this far?” I asked, my voice trembling.

                “You were in danger,” he enunciated. “Believe me, I’m going to miss the old Kira too, but this was for your safety and before everything, your safety comes first to me. You come first.”

                I knew he was right. He always did that; made decisions for me. Important ones, but they were always the correct ones. And despite the hell he put me through in the form of training, I always loved Papa, and I knew he loved me back. We were master and apprentice, teacher and student, and he disciplined me firmly, but at the same time we had an affectionate, loving, Father- Daughter relationship.  We were just…different from the other families out there. “Please, leave me alone. Send everyone out.”

                He nodded solemnly, and stood up to leave. I had gotten surgery many times before; often in missions my body would get so mangled I needed surgery, but despite it my skin was hardly flawed. Every so often you’d find a small scar from a particularly bad injury, but overall the doctors were so advanced and had the money to buy anything they needed and so were able to fix me 100%.

                I gazed at the unfamiliar face in the mirror. It—I, was pretty. There was no doubt about that, my father wouldn’t have let the doctors make me ugly, but I wasn’t gorgeous, it wasn’t a face people would get plastic surgery to look like. That was for a reason; too much beauty attracted attention, negative attention. It made a person an easy target, especially in my father’s line of business. I had an oval face, small, with smooth, flawless skin. My long eyelashes were still there, but I was given a deeper double eyelid. My previously thin lips were injected so they were plump and beautiful, not unnatural in the slightest. The doctors had done an excellent job, that was for sure. There was no evidence that the features weren’t naturally like this, they fit together flawlessly, and they looked good. Nobody would suspect I had to get beaten within an inch of my life in order to produce this face. Nobody would look at this face and suspect I could kill them with one blow or hijack their car in minutes. Papa. Always doing things for the job. I would be back on the job sometime, that I knew. He couldn’t keep me away forever, neither would he benefit from that. So an innocent face that didn’t get second looks or draw suspicion was necessary once I was sent back on missions.

                Well, until then, I would just have to put up with it. I pressed the call button and had a nurse bring me my lap top, and before long I was surfing the web for information about South Korea.

                Three hours later I finally closed my lap top. I closed my eyes and leaned back; I needed a nap. After spending eleven years surrounded by guns, knives, poisons, and stealth, I would be attending school in the Kpop Capitol of the world. Pretty guys, pop music, sasaeng fans, and perms would be my new curriculum.

                Kill me now…