What did he just realize? What did Minho just give him the pieces of, and what did Key just puzzle together? 

The rope digs into my skin but I ignore it, as Zelo slowly picks away the knots. It's a miracle, really, that Minho hasn't seen us yet. 

Key's shaking his head, over and over, but his eyes remain fixed on Minho. His bow wavers, but his grip looks too tight on the wood to even think about letting go. "No." 

"What, Kibum, you never thought? You never thought that you deserved more than this life, scraping away at the scraps for a living? Didn't you ever think that you were more than this? Didn't you ever look up at that magnificent palace, and think, 'that should be mine?'"

Key was still shaking his head. His eyes flashed with something, something like fear. "No. I can't. I can't do that. That isn't right. You've got it wrong. You're wrong." He sounded like he was trying hard to convince himself, but he was trembling like a leaf. 

Minho studied him, face expressionless, eyes blank. "You know I'm right, Kibum. You've known it from the beginning." 

"But... I'm not... I can't..." 

"It is your given birthright. It is your destiny. You are the true ruler. You are the true king." Wait. 

I'm the king. I am the king. So why is Key like this? Why? 

No. 

No.

"No," he says, but his face is so heartbroken, so bare, like I have never seen it before, that it must be true. It must be true. 

So who am I? Just a random kid, picked off from the street? Just another citizen, who slid right into the palace without a word? Was my father a liar? Was my brother? Was everyone around me? 

Who am I? 

What am I doing? What do I do?

I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do, and it's killing me. This is killing me, but now it doesn't matter, right? Becuase I'm just another. I'm just another nobody. I'm just an ordinary person. 

So what are they going to do? Throw me on the streets? Make me live in a shack? Maybe me work for food, make me live alone, make me just another? 

But I'm king.

But I guess not. 

"Kibum, you can give Taemin all he's ever dreamed of. You can give him happiness." Minho's tone changed again, to something like melted chocolate. "All you have to do is just a line. Just draw a line." And he spread a hand. On his palm, lying innocently, a tiny knife. But something was wrong. The blade, even from my view, was wrong. It was tainted faintly black, and something about it seemed to the minimal light from the room. Xuimin, from his corner, let out a quiet, low whistle. I had forgotten he was here. 

Key stared hard at the blade. "Drakasteel, yeah?" Minho inclined his head. 

"The power is in your hands, Key. All you have to do," he paused, and grew softer. "Is take it." 

Key looked, in that moment, so far away. So vulnerable, but so inwardly strong. And then, in a terrible moment, I knew he would do it. Key would always take the better choice, even if it was hard. Key had been raised to think only of his brother, and I am not his brother.  But I am someone standing in the way, in front of his brother's happiness, his brother's well being. Of course he'll help his brother.

Of course. 

He didn't look at me. Zelo finally let the piece of rope fall down, my wrists released, but I keep my wrists still. It won't do anything. I'm already dead. 

Key turned to face me. His face was frozen, still, but fixed on me. I tried to meet his eyes, but I couldn't. I don't want him to regret this. I don't want him to look into the eys of a dying man and know that it was his hand. 

I close my eyes.

I wish I had lived longer. I wish I had lived better. 

I wish I had appreciated what I had given. I wish I had told people how much they mean to me, even if I don't show it. 

I wish I could live.

I hear a slow exhale. I prepare to die. 

Then, something happens. Feet thud over the boards, and I snap my eyes open. Key. Key was gone -- no, he was there. Arms wrapped around the Minho's exposed throat, teeth gritted, eyes fire. The knife, so small, is brushing the pale skin of Minho's throat. 

Key leans in, and hisses in Minho's ear, "I'm smarter than you think." And then he draws across Minho's throat. A bead of blood wells up. Then more, and more, until a thin strand of bloody pearls decorates Minho's throat. But Minho does nothing. He just stands. Key steps back, and for once, fear flashes in his eyes. The knife drops from his slackened hands. 

And then, a flash, and Minho slammed Key into the closed door, scooping up the knife as he goes. He smirks, looking down at the struggling Key, trapped like a beached whale. 

"There's one thing that you don't know about Drakasteel." His voice rings out, and I see the blade approaching Key's throat. I need to do something. I look around wildly, the world moving too fast. I need to find something. I need to find some- there! The arrow, left loose next to the bow. I stand up, and dart toward the arrow, trying not to make a sound.

"It does not hurt the craftman." The blood drains from Key's face. "And, lucky for you, Kibum, I am an excellent blacksmith." I aim the arrow at the back of his throat. Key snarls at Minho, who only looks back, indifferent. He would find another after Key's dead to serve him. This was just another death. 

Minho drives the poisoned metal into Key's side, and, at the same time, I stab Minho's neck. 

Minho stiffens. He takes a breath. Blood bubbles to the surface. The flint tip, sharpened finely, is centimeters in his throat. He turns his neck to look at me, turns his whole body. A picture of rage, uncontrollable and oldened, twists his features, and he reaches out to me with stretching, reddened fingers. I stumble back, fear a root lodged in my stomach. Minho takes a step toward me, and falls to the floor.

And then, silence. 

And then, Key topples to the ground. 

ACTION