Key woke to the sound of clattering plates. Stumbling into the kitchen, still half asleep, he saw Taemin cooking the meat that he had gotten from the butchers the night before. He smiled, walking over to nudge Taemin to the table and taking his place at the stove. 

"C'mon, you have school today. You can't be late," Key lectured the grumbling boy. Taemin pouted. 

"Go get dressed," Key said, pointing toward his little brothers room.  "I'll cook."

Taemin, still pouting, slid off the table to shuffle across the room to his door. Key, with a little smile on his face, watched him. The boy was so serious all the time, it was good to see him acting like a 16 year old, not someone who had to work two jobs after school to help pay for food and rent and clothes. Key's job was full time- he knew he would have another mission today, if he even was alive to get it. Maybe if it was a smaller job than his employer wouldn't care. But this was an important one. Key knew that he was well-respected amoung the people under his employer, one of the best in the business. There were maybe 10, 15 people under his employer. Many would be suprised how many assassins there are. But they were sent on assignments all around the world- China, Australia, even the distant America. You had to be the best to be under his employers hand. Smart. Skilled. Quick. But even amoung them, probably some of the most dangerous people in the world, people died. Shot down by a lucky bullet. Trapped, then tortured and killed. It was a horrible world out there, and Key knew that all too well. 

Key remembered when he had gone to the academy. It was a two month thing that after his employer had spotted him and offered him the job, all the assassins under his employer were sent there. It's pretty much two months of grueling exercise, lessons about using different types of weapons, and a couple of torture sessions thrown in. It was designed to make them tough, because nothing they could go through could be worse. But Key had attended with a couple of others. Some had made it, like him. T.K, for example. The boy had only been 13, now 16, and was the most famed assassin in the world. They became friends in those eight weeks, and sometimes their employer would send them on duel missions because they worked so well together.

But Key remembered another. Mir, his name was. He was sweet- 16 physically, but had the energy and mind of a 10 year old. He was like a little brother to all of them- the others would try to take care of him, Key included. But one day, Mir had came back from a one-on-one lesson on knife throwing with cuts lining his face and arms, like the teacher had used him as a target. It wasn't that Mir wasn't smart, or fast, or capable, it just took him a while to get a hang of something, and time was one thing they didn't have and the instructors didn't like. They wanted for them to catch onto everything very quickly, and be experts in two days. Mir started to come back with more bruises, more cuts, the result of an unhappy teacher. They all worried about him- gave a little of their helpings at meal times, treated his wounds, and yet, he began to get quieter. Weaker, exhausted, and they couldn't do anything about it, in fear of the teachers and their employer. Mir began to lose his energy, his natural happiness, and then, one day, he disappeared all together. It was seven weeks and a day into the program. They had all started to hope that Mir would make it, that he would come out alive. But they never saw him again. The instructors came up with a flimsy excuse for his disappearance, but they all knew what had happened to the boy who always had a smile on his face, who always believed, who could always fool around and laugh and spread the happy virus. But he was gone, and they couldn't do anything. Not ask, not run, not fight, because no matter how good they were, no matter how strong and fast and clever they were, their employer was a step ahead of them. He always had the upper hand, and so they did nothing. 

That was the world for you. It takes and takes- your mother, your father, an innocent kid, and never gives back. It doesn't return what you lost, nor does it give you something else in return. It just takes. Key knew that, well. Taemin knew, as much as Key hated it, Taemin knew the world was harsh, that time was never on their side.

Key had been an assassin for four years now, four since the academy. He was nineteen. Four years since his parents had disappeared, four years since he had taken the weight of the cruel world onto his shoulders. It had been a long four years. 

A loud shout of hyung broke him out of his thoughts and he grinned as Taemin stumbled back into the kitchen, wearing his school uniform. He turned off the stove, cut up the meat, and gave half to Taemin. 

The boy ate at record speed, bolting up to check the time. 

"Gotta go, hyung!" He tossed over his shoulder as he raced back into his room to get his bag and then burst out the door to trip over the steps and faceplant on the ground. Key listened with a faintly alarmed expression to Taemin grumbling as he got up, ran after his scattered books, gathered them back into his bag, and continued running to school. 

Key finished his breakfast considerably slower, lagging over leaving the house. Today, he knew the mission would arrive at noon in the form of a letter, written in invisible ink so Key could only read it under a light- so that a casual person couldn't just pick it up and ruin the assassin's cover. 

By Key's judge, he had five hours until it came. He needed to deliver the monthy rent to the landlord, which was always unpleasant, not because Key didn't have the money, it was that the landlord always stared at Key with those beady eyes and asked why Key's parents weren't doing this instead of a nineteen year old boy. And he wanted to go to the market in the center of Quiy. They were running low on food, and Key needed to do something to calm his nerves about his employer.

He finished his food, grabbed a light coat, and stuffed some money into his pocket, enough for the rent and groceries, and jogged out of the house, hoping to be quick to avoid the neighbor. 

"Kibum!" A voice hailed him, and he stopped in his tracks, mentally cursing as he turned slowly enough to plaster a friendly smile on his face. 

His neighbor, Ms. Choi, greeted his smile with an unusually small smile one of her own. She bowed, formally, and pressed her three longest middle fingers to her forehead, the greeting in the kingdom for a sad day, a mourning day. 

Key, confused but not letting it show on his face, repeated the greeting back to her, wiping the smile from his lips as to not seem rude. 

"It 'tis a sad day for us all," She said in a soft voice. 

Key could only nod in agreement. Who had died? It wouldn't be a relative of hers, because then she wouldn't expect Key to know. A child, maybe, or a royal. 

As he continued on his way to the landlords, two blocks away, he kept getting the same greeting even people he didn't know, and he didn't want to seem ignorant by asking, so he only bowed and pressed his fingertips to his forehead in mourning, before walking on. 

At the landlords, the grumpy old man just let him in with the mourning greeting, and took the offered money, and shooed him out without a word.

More confused than ever, but relieved he had escaped the usual prying questions that he couldn't answer, Key went to the market. He planned to look around, to try to find what was going on, before buying what he needed. There was no need to though. 

People were gathered around the message board, muttering to each other. As Key came closer he thought he heard something about a prince's rule, and he thought that a prince had been killed, or was sick with the famous illness spreading across the neighboring kingdom. As he placed himslef at the edge of the crowd, people started to trickle away, bowing and pressing their fingers to their foreheads, expressions of worry on their facesKey could finally see the sign, and his stomach plummented. 

The king. The king was dead, murdered by an unknown criminal. But Key hadn't done it. He was sure of it. So if he didn't, who did?

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Sorry for making this chapter short:( but I didn't have a lot of time to update so yea. 

Land lately I've started liking a lot of groups that are rookie groups or just not known a lot, like C-Clown, Speed, VIXX, and Bigstar, so I was wondering if anyone knew any others... thanks!

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