(Rinka's POV)

I decided to wander around the hallways since the whole school decided to have a field trip without me. What was the matter with what JR had told me? About how the "training" was only for people who spoke Japanese. That was so stupid! How did he know if I spoke Japanese or not? He's such an insolense. 

I still didn't figure out why the dorms were a secret. What would be so secretive about dorms? I sighed as I rested my palm on the railing of the stairs that led to the headmaster's office. I threw my head up to glance at the scenery of the paintings. 

Kim Ilhoon...my father. His name stood out in the photos of him that hung everywhere. At almost every inch of the walls on the whole floor upstairs, maybe every 5 inches downstairs, and god knows how many there are in the gynasium. 

I was still stuck on that painting of my father, Jackson, and the little girl which appeared to be me. How did they know about my father in the first place? 

And what were those random streams of colors that my father was forcing out of my body into the palms of his hands?

I sighed and decided to go talk to "Jackson" about it. As I reached his office, the door creaked open by itself. As if it were supposed to do that. Like how it always does in those horror movies which made everything creepier.

I peaked through only allowing my eyes to be seen through the door and saw him working on something at his desk.
But before, when JR and I came to his office, there was nothing there. All white, no funrniture, books, supplies, anything. Strange...

He suddenly looked up from his work and smiled holding his red pen.
"Ah, Rinka. Come sit." He noticed me peaking through only a small crack? That's strange too...Plus it would be evidently awkward to see someone just piercing their eyes at you through just a tiny line that was formed by a creak from the door. 

I nodded and sat at a black leather seat that had been placed infront of his desk mainly for the kids who got in trouble to sit in so they could have a discussion about their behvior. I bet JR has experienced his LIFE in this chair. I roamed my eyes around his desk and they placed themselves at the front of it where his name plate was. 

HEADMASTER KWANG

It read. I stared at it incredulously. Kwang? That wasn't Jackson's name...Maybe I did just get too paranoid. He folded his hands and rested them onto the stack of paper infront of him that he'd been working on. 

"Do you need anything?" He asked as I bit my lip. I played with my fingers as my hands were set on my lap nervously.

"Yeah. How come I'm the only one that's not at training right now?" I asked.
"The training that the rest of the students go to are highly advanced. We don't allow just anyone to get in." He told me and I furrowed my eyebrows. 

"Then how come the rest of the students just went at once?" I was utterly confused. I thought it was because only people who spoke Japanese could go to the training. But it was impossible for the whole school to have known the full Japanese language when all I know is, "Konichiwa". None of this was making sense what so ever. 

He unfolded his hands and rested them onto his lap. "That's because I am in charge of deciding who is legible of going."

"I didn't know it was possible for the whole student body to be legible at something like that." I crossed my arms suspicious. He was hiding something. No school would ever leave just one student behinf the others went off somewhere. 

Training for what anyways? Invaders? Just in case if an intruder comes along? Aish, my life. 

"It is. Since everyone who attends this school is.." He trailed off in his thoughts.
"Is what?" I raised an eyebrows. 
"Let's just say...gifted." He gave me a smile and I cringed. 

"So if they're 'gifted' and I'm not, why am I here?" That question danced around through my mind for a while. Why WAS I there? Why did ChoRong decide to register me into this school when there were plenty more to attend? 

But I also felt like he was insulting me. Calling the others gifted and leaving me behind for training was infantile and it didn't make any sense to me.

"Ask your mother, not me." He sighed and looked back down at his paper, checking some random things off with his red pen.

This school was so unorganized. Especially the learning system. All the teacher would do was read magazines! I hated the fact that everyone treated me like an outcast and that I didn't deserve to know anything about what was going on.

I ignored his comment and came up with a new question.

"Why can't you test me to determine whether I'm legible or not?" That was the perfect question. How did he know if I could be legible or not? He didn't even test me yet, shakin' ma head. 

"But you seem more like a cheerful person." He looked up from his work, resting his elbow on his desk. 

"What does that have to do with anything?" Was he just making up excuses? Because I'm pretty sure that me being a cheerful person had nothing to do with this situation. 
"Because most of my testing on these students would be a time that they're fully angry or upset." He set his pen down, tightening the cap on it.

I arched a brow and crossed my arms, leaning back in his leather chair, and crossed my left leg over my right.

"And why would you need me angry in order to test me?" This still wasn't adding up. 

"You'll just have to see when you get frustrated." He clicked his tongue and wagged his finger left to right as if I were some kind of child who was about to take a cookie out of a cookie jar.

I sighed and thought about the paintings of my father. Since no one in school was around, I decided to ask him about them. "Why do you guys have paintings of Ki- creatures all over the school?" I almost said my father's name aloud; thank god "creatures" was another name for vampire. 

"Ah, he's Kim Ilhoon. My favorite magestic creature of all times. I've read about of his stories and his family. He's such an incredible person. Have you ever heard of him?" He smiled a bit and waited for my response. 

What should I say? I thought frantically. Why not just cover everything up and act natural? 

Good idea. 

"Nope. Never heard of him." I lied. Though, it did hurt to say that I didn't know my father. After all, he sacrificied his life to save mine and I should be bragging about that fact  to everyone. If only it was a situation that didn't need to be explained. 

How would I explain my vampire father being slayed by a Xiq to mortal humans such as myself? 

"Well, there's this famous story that he was in. Come with me. I'd like to share it with you." He smiled as he led me out of his luxurious office and walked us down a couple of steps away from his office.

He suddently stopped infront of the picture of my father being slayed by Jackson and the weak, stupid, uncontrollable, and selfish little girl in the corner of the frame screaming for her father. 

My heart ached and yelped as I knew that helpless girl was me. 

He pointed to my father. "In this particular photo, Kim Ilhoon is being killed by this vampire." He proceeded to point to Jackson. 

"But do not think that Kim Ilhoon was a human, no. Kim Ilhoon was a vampire. As a matter of fact, he was the-" 

*Strongest vampire throughout the entire vampire history.* I finished his sentence in my head. It bothered me how I already knew these things and had to be reminded of it over and over. It was torture because I miss my father so much. 

"See, the vampire who is killing Kim Ilhoon is also the strongest vampire known to its kind. The two were fighting for more power, and evidently, Jackson won." He slid his fingers over the painting, being mesmerized. 

He then took the oppritunity to point at the shabby, no-good girl in the photo.
"She was Kim..Uhm..No one really knows her name. It was never mentioned in any of the books and when I tried researching for her name on the internet, nothing would pop up. But, we'll just call her the daughter of Kim Ilhoon because that was who she was."

"Really?" I acted surprised like I didn't already know that my whole life. 

"Yes, really." He continued on with the story. 

"She was crying for her father," Obviously, I thought secretly rolling my eyes, "He had told her not to cry tears of sadness, but tears of joy, because he promised her that one day, he'd come back to visit." 

My eyes began to sting as I remembered my father's words. What the headmaster was preaching to me was 100% accurate. 

~~~~~

"Rinka, why are you crying, yeobo?" 
He brushed my tears away looking like he was about to take his last breath, his final exhale. "B-Be-Because you're going to leave me appa!" My helpless tears flew down my cheeks and he saved them with just a wipe of his thumb, carefully across my cheek. My appa was a hero. 
"Don't worry. Appa will visit you soon. Until then, you'll find someone who can take care of you." 

~~~~~

And with that, I forgot the rest. I despised how little segments of my past would appear, but I couldn't be able to grasp, remember the rest. "Did her father ever come back?" I asked to make him not think I already knew this stuff. 

"It never did say.." He tapped his chin in admiration of it. "Headmaster Kwang?" I looked at him pleadedly. He snapped back to reality, still smiling. 

"Yes?" "You look a lot like that Jackson guy.." I looked over at the painting and there was no doubt about it. Their jaws were set, strong and hard. Their noses were thin and went straight down perfectly. The only difference was their eyes. Jackson's were red. 

"I don't see it." He said studying the picture as well as I was. "Maybe it's just me." I shrugged it off. 

But there was something that had to be pieced together. They really did look a like. Jackson had peircing fangs, ones that could bite into a brick if they wanted to, but Headmaster's were straight, perfectly lined up. 

"You've been asking me many questions, Park Rinka. But I have one for you as well. If I could have the priviledge of doing so?" He leaned back against the wall next to the picture. 

"S-Sure." I said nervoulsy. Oh god. This couldn't be good. At least be a question like, "what's your favorite color?" or something. 

"Earlier, you mistaked me as, 'the man who killed your father'. That little girl in the picture looks just like you. Same color hair, eyes, the same frightened look. Therefore, you probably already knew about Kim Ilhoon, are you the one who's his daughter?" 

Yup, I was doomed. This was definantely NOT a, "whats your favorite color" question...

Another dream has ended, but I'll also show you a new one, next night.