A/N: Just a little spin off. I was having a little writers block so I decided to just give you guys some backround on Jun. 

"Go out and find a stick!"

Junhyung trembled thinking of his father's words. His father always seemed to enjoy punishing his son by hitting him with branch chosen by himself. He squatted at the edge of the Forest, pushing through the bramble looking for the perfect stick. The first time he was told to "Go get a stick," was when he was 3 years old. He given his father a puzzled expression, but scampered out to find a stick. The first time, he had chosen a thin and flexible branch, already having an inkling of what was to come. That was a mistake. A thin and flexible branch was like a whip; it s around your legs and sliced into your skin. 10 times, that's how many times he was hit. He cried the whole time, pleading with his father but to no avail. His father was dead set on punishing him. Why? Because he had made a mistake in his multiplication.

"Geniuses are made, not born." was his father's favorite thing to say. And so his son would be put through a study bootcamp his entire life, punished by 10 strikes for every mistake. Every time, Junhyung was told to go out and find himself a stick. Through trial and error, he learned what to pick, what was the least painful.

A thick stick with no flexibility. Old, so that the bark has peeled off.

Junhyung's hands wrapped around a branch.

This one.

He quickly made his way back to his home. For every additional minute he took, he'd get an additional lash. His father just barely gave him enough time to run and get a branch, certainly not enough time to find and choose the perfect branch. But he found that he prefered to get lashed a couple of additional times than to hurry back on time but to accidentally grab a whip like branch.

"3 minutes late." his father said flatly, his voice cold as ice.

Junhyung bowed his head. "I am sorry." He held out his chosen stick out in both hands.

"Turn around and take off your shirt."

When Junhyung was five, a government official by the name of Grant had questioned the scars on his legs. Ever since then, he was whipped on his back instead of his legs. He also prefered this. Having a scarred back didn't bother him as much as his scarred legs did.

"One." His father brought the stick down onto his back. Junhyung didn't utter a sound; he knew that the beatings would get worse as it progressed. The first lash was only a small bruise, the skin only stinging, not broken. It would heal and wouldn't leave a scar.

"Two." This one would leave a bigger bruise. But it still didn't break the skin.

He would hold out, not make a single grunt until the 7th hit, which would leave a permanent scar.

He would not cry out and yell until the 10th hit, which dug into his skin and would feel as though it had cracked his ribs.

He would not break down until the 13th hit, where he'd fall to the floor, immobile and his father would walk away, muttering about how weak his son was. His mother would come later. She'd come, and pick him up in her arms and carry him to his bed. She'd use MediTech to mend the cracks in his ribs, close up the gashes in his skin. An ugly, raised, white scar would remain, and he would still ache. But he would stand the next day, and that was all that mattered.

Healing him, and carrying him to his bed was as far as his mother's hospitality went. She'd leave as swiftly as she came, and she'd only appear again the next day when he lay injured on the floor once again. And soon after, his father would return, standing over him in his bed. He'd be drilled again, but this time he wouldn't make a mistake; he wouldn't dare after what he'd been through.

3 years old and he mastered all the basics. Addition, subtraction, multiplication, division, fractions, percents and decimals. He could read chapter books, and talk in an adult-like manner. He knew the basics of all the sciences; biology, chemistry, psychology, and physics.

4 years old, and he was through with algebra I, and algebra II. He mastered biology and chemistry.

6 years old, and he finished geometry and trigonometry. He mastered psychology, and his vocabulary was on par with that of a well educated adult. He knew the ins and outs of every piece of technology existing today; including the obsolete iPads and iPhones.

8 years old, and he was finished with math. Calcu