Jinki maneuvered through the village hypervigilant. One of his hands were around the hilt of his sword, and the other on the bag of money in his pocket. His mother had given him everything she had and he wasn’t about to let some petty thief rob him of his mother’s sacrifice. His stomach grumbled with hunger. He had been given a small meal while traveling with the caravan from the faraway port. They had been nice enough to travel with him and protect him on the long journey for a small sum of money.  

           The vast number of round ears came across as odd and it left an uneasy feeling in his stomach. There was a thick scarf tied around his ears to hide their point. There was no guarantee this new land was elven friendly, so until he was sure he would hide that part of his heritage as best he could. There was a fruit stand a little ways ahead of him to the left. It took him a minute to figure out the man didn’t understand his native tongue at all and he switched to pointing at the stack of mangos and bringing out two gold pieces. He noticed the man’s eyes widened and the money was gladly taken. Jinki smiled and bowed his head as he looked for a way out of the mass of people.

           He walked through two buildings with a cobblestone path and a moment later the stone turned to soft grass. There was a river rounding the huge city and a number of giant trees along the banks. He sighed as he leaned against a thick trunk and used the edge of his dagger in his boot to cut open the mango. He cut a small piece and stabbed it with the tip to bring it up to his lips. He was just starting to enjoy his fruit when a loud commotion caught his attention. It didn’t take him long to find the source of it. Against one of the buildings was a group of men and in the middle was a boy not too much older than himself by the looks of it. There were three men on the ground and Jinki quickly assessed those were the boy’s guards. He looked at the mango in his hand and frowned. “I’ll miss you.” He mumbled in his native tongue before he laid it on his bag and grabbed his sword.

           He quietly chanted, “Ahwu A lo.” and his sword’s blade flashed for a moment. He met eyes with the boy as he ran towards him, but Jinki put his finger to his lips to tell him to be quiet. A moment later his sword was slicing through the man on the boy’s far right. The other two men acted quickly, tossing the boy to the ground to focus on their attacker. Jinki dodged the of one of the men’s daggers and hit him hard on the back of the head with the hilt of his sword. The other man stumbled before trying to run away. Jinki grabbed the fallen man’s dagger and launched it until it was lodged in the man’s back and he fumbled forward before stilling.

           Jinki glanced at the boy, but his eyes were fluttering closed. He sighed, as he laid his sword against the building and hooked both arms under the boy’s to drag him over by the tree. Once his head was propped up on his bedroll Jinki returned for his sword and any loot he could get from the men who attacked the boy. The previously fallen men had a crest on their chest pieces, and by the craftsmanship of the armor, Jinki could tell they were from a well-paid blacksmith. Whoever the boy was, he was very important from the looks of things. A few pieces of gold were found on the attackers and a cool necklace was taken from another. He then returned back to his tree to finish his mango and run a cool cloth over the boy’s forehead.

           After a while, the boy began to shift. Jinki glanced over from cleaning his sword of the blood. The language the boy was mumbling was foreign to Jinki. It was then he heard the horses and men approaching. When he looked up there were a dozen or so guards all with the same crest as the fallen ones. Words in a language unknown were yelled and before Jinki knew it he was being pulled roughly from against the tree. He was turned around, face pressed against the trunk of the tree as his hands were tied. Panic gripped him as his things were taken and he was tugged toward a horse. “I didn’t harm him I saved him! You have to believe me.”

           The guards around him looked puzzled and he realized none of them knew what he was saying. He swallowed thickly and let them do what they wanted. He could make it out of this, but he didn’t want to make the situation worse than it was.

-----

           When Kibum woke up he was in his bed back in the castle, his right arm was in a sling and his head hurt like something terrible. He squinted around the room and found his sister across the way. She turned with a big smile, rushing to his bedside. “Ah, there you are. We were beginning to worry it was worse than previously thought.”

           “What.. happened?”

           “You and your guards were attacked on your trip to the market.” She softly explained as she ran a soft cloth over the cut on his forehead. “The man who did this is in custody.”

           “That’s good you got them.”

           “Them?”

           “There were three of them.”

           She looked confused for a moment. “There’s only one down in the dungeons. A young man that was found near your unconscious body… He spoke some weird language when they dragged him in. I’ve never heard anything like it.”

           It dawned on Kibum quickly who the man in their dungeons was, and that he deserved a lot more than a spot in their dungeon for a crime he didn’t commit. He pushed up off the bed. “I have to see him.”

           “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She tried to push him back down, but Kibum pushed through her hands. “Kibum! You’re not well.”

           “The man you have in our dungeons wasn’t the one who attacked me...He saved me.” Kibum grabbed his robe from the hook and hissed as he slipped one arm through and managed to tie it around his body. “I have to thank him.”

           He rushed out of the room ignoring his sister’s calls. He waved off guards who hurried to follow him as he took the hallway over to the other wing of the castle, down the huge amount of stairs to the courtyard and down the giant, ancient stone steps to the dungeons. The two guards on duty stood at attention at the sight of their Prince. “Your Highness, shouldn’t you be in bed resting?”

           “Take me to the prisoner charged with attacking me.”

           “Your Highness?” The other asked unsurely.

           “I wish to be taken to the man you’ve charged with harming me.” Kibum glared at them both. Both caved at the 14-year-old’s orders. He was led into the torch lit dungeons and to the left, far away from the rest of the mostly empty cells to the lone one as far away from the door as possible. Once he was standing in front of him he turned to the two guards, “Leave me.”

           “We cannot do that, Your Highness.”

           “Either leave me or you’ll both be unemployed.” When both guards turned to return to their post, Kibum smirked, “That’s what I thought.”

           The man in the cell was looking at him with calculating eyes. His hair was hanging messily around his head, a scarf was around his ears and forehead, keeping some from his face. “Do you not understand my language? Is that why you haven’t told them you saved me?”

           The being didn’t react, or answer and Kibum took that as a yes. He was just sitting on the old cot thrown in the cell, back straight, and legs brought up crisscrossed before him. His hands were softly placed on his knees and there was a power around him that gave Kibum pause. For a moment Kibum thought of what to do until he remembered the other languages he had mastered in his language classes over the years. He ran through a few, looking for some type of reaction in the prisoner. It wasn’t until he used the language of the Ki’jash people far across the sea to the north, one of his Kingdom’s major trading partners, did the young man in the cell brighten. “You know the language of the Ki’jash?”

           The man’s voice was softer and deeper in tone than Kibum expected. “I know many languages from across The Great Sea.” He cocked his head to the side a little as he asked. “When are your people going to pass judgment for why I’m here?”

           Kibum reached into the pocket of his robe to pull out the keys he swiped from the guard on the walk down here. He slid the key into the lock with a smile, “You saved me. I would be dead without you. I won’t let you rot in a cell for a crime you didn’t commit.”

           As the door was opened the man’s facial expression stayed blank and he made no inclination of moving. “Won’t your King be angry you let out a murderer?”

            “I am Prince Kibum Kim. The King of this land is my father, and I’ll not let him persecute my savior.” He studied the man closely as he processed the words. “Any items you had on you when they took you into custody should be in the room just at the top of the stairs. I can take you there.”

           He watched as the man hesitantly stepped from the cot, eyes shifting and following Kibum’s movements as he came closer, “Then... I’m free to go?”

            "If you wish.” Kibum stepped away, good hand put into his pocket to keep warm in the chilly air of the dungeons. “Let me offer you a hot meal and a soft bed for the night to start repaying you for what you’ve done for me. Clean clothes, a bath.”

            “A bath?” His tummy rumbled loudly. It was obvious he wanted to keep moving, but he really needed to clean up and eat. He never got to finish his mango. “I would appreciate that.”

           Kibum beamed, “Follow me then.”

           When they arrived at the entry point to the cells the guards rushed forward. “Your Highness, what is the meaning of this?”

           “You have kept my savior as a prisoner.” He explained in the authoritative voice his tutors had forced down his throat when he began to speak. “I am paying him for what he risked for me. You can ask my father if it really concerns you.” He turned towards his new guest with a soft smile, “Follow me.”

           As they walked up the thick stone steps he asked, “What is your name?”

           The man smiled, “You can call me Onyu.”

-------

           Various types of food were brought up to Kibum’s rooms. He wasn’t quite sure what Onyu liked to eat, so he had sent for as many options as he could. He watched Onyu eat across from him, noticing his obvious etiquette. “What brings you to the Kingdom of Joesan?”

           Onyu lifts his head from the piece of mango he just got onto his silver fork, “The caravan I paid to leave the last city, brought me here. I had no intention of staying longer than it took to eat my mango but-”

            “I complicated things, however.” Kibum had learned quickly the boy wasn’t much older than he was, almost two years.  He flashed a small smile at Onyu, “I apologize for that again.”

            “Why did those men attack you?” He continued to eat after, moving onto the muffins that were on the circular tray just to his left.

            “My father just enacted another tax. They were... Displeased, to say the least.”

            “Only cowards attack a child for the actions of their parents.” Something told Kibum those words held more depth than the present context to the boy.

           He did agree, however, and he hummed, biting into the apple he was holding with his good arm. “After you’re finished here at the castle.. Where do you plan to go?”

           Onyu shrugged, laying his knife against his plate carefully. “I have no specific destination. I’m just trying to get as far away from my starting place as I can.”

           With a raised eyebrow Kibum ventured to ask, “Are you running from the law?”

            With a grimace, Jinki replied, “In a way, yes, but I promise you it wasn’t for anything of my own doing.”

            “The laws of other Kingdoms don’t pertain much, if at all, here. You’re safe if you decide to stay.”

           “Do I have a reason to stay?”

           “Well,” Kibum nervously picked at the tablecloth of the small table. “You must have some skill with that sword of yours if you took down the attackers my specially trained group of guards could not. If you wish, you could take their place. As my guard that is.”

           “You just finished asking me if I was a fugitive, and now you’re offering me to be your personal guard?” Onyu was smiling softly, just a slight upturn of the corners of his lips. “Do you often offer employment to people you recently broke out of jail?”

           “No, I do not I admit.” Kibum laughed quietly. He sat forward in his chair as he explained himself more. “You’ll have accommodations here in the castle of course, and food a few times a day provided, including a reasonable spendid for your personal endeavors.”

           “I,” Jinki’s gaze fell to the centerpiece of the table, bottom lip pulled through his teeth as he grew silent. He breathed heavily through his nose a few times before he continued. “May I think over your offer during my bath?”

           “Of course.” Kibum cleared his throat, pushing from the table to gesture to the connected room. “It’s just through there. I’ve had clothes prepared for you to change into after. Just close the door to give yourself more privacy whenever you’re ready.”

           As he pushed away from the table Onyu bowed his head, and mumbled his thanks, before disappearing through the door. His sword was still around his waist. What a curious being. Kibum wondered then what his father was going to say to all this. Then again, he couldn’t make himself care.

----

           As the door closed behind him Jinki looked around the room. Back home they had a room meant to freshen up in, but for the most part, hygiene was taken care of in the nearby stream. The room was well lit by the tall windows along the far wall. In the middle of the room was a tiled indentation, which he presumed was the bath. He figured out to make the water fill and once the temperature was satisfactory, he worked on getting undressed. Out of habit he folded his dirty clothes and stacked them in a neat pile, laying his belt and sword on the top. The smooth floor was almost cold against his bare feet as he padded over to the edge of the bath. He was a few steps into the steaming water when he remembered the band around his ears. He stared at the closed door for a long while, debating if the Prince would really give him privacy. The illusion was a complicated spell to be done and held correctly and Jinki knew he couldn’t form one to mask his ears if he were to be caught without the cloth. He decided in the end that if he really needed to, he’d cover his ears with his hair, pulling the cloth off and sighing deeply being able to wiggle his ears a little. Free.

           He felt slightly guilty keeping his real name and heritage from the other boy, but his mother’s voice echoed in his head, ‘You must hide yourself, not because who you are is bad, but for your own safety.’. As he slipped further into the hot water his eyes fluttered closed and he could see her face. The softness of her gaze, the warmth of her hands as they gripped his own, the desperation of her voice. Slightly harder was picturing his father. The image was foggy almost from all of his travels trying so hard to block out the last way he saw his father. He swallowed thickly before taking a gasp of air and going completely under.

           It felt so nice to be clean, really clean. He found a basket near the edge and after smelling each bottle and container, touching the weird liquids that smell of flowers, he decided on one that seemed usable for hair. In his things was a small jar of the oil he usually used after and he wanted to keep that with him as long as possible. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to have access to more. While he wished he could stay in the warmth of the water for much longer he knew the longer he was in it the more restless the boy in the other room would grow and curiosity could lead to the boy finding out more than he bargained for.  As he finished cleaning himself he thought about the proposition.

           Sitting on the edge of the bath, twisting the given towel around his hair to dry it, positives of staying were running through his head. He’d have cheap living accommodations and food, and he was sure here was as good as any to hide from the people his mother sent him away to protect him from. The negatives were that he wasn’t as far as he could be, he wasn’t quite sure if he had the ability to protect the boy completely, and there’d be a lot of explaining to do eventually. He couldn’t be going by Onyu forever if he stayed and he’d rather like to not have to hide his elven heritage for very long either. Wearing the cover was practical, and he understood why his mother had tied it around his ears before he left, but it was stuffy and uncomfortable. He didn’t like hiding who he was and pretending to be something he was not. How could he agree to live here without really knowing how the round ears felt about Elves?

           He was fighting with the pants provided for him and was pleasantly surprised by how soft the fabric was. He pressed his lips together as he stared at his reflection. The scars along his right jaw and cheek, and slightly down his neck, reminded him of their origin. With a deep breath, they began to disappear, the illusion of clear, smooth skin coming to be once again. While his cloth for around his ears was dirty he used the bath water to clean it, twisting it to let the water out. It was still damp and a little stained, but it was cleaner than before. He braided his hair and tied it before focusing on getting the cloth around his ears just right to hide the tips. Once he deemed himself ready he scooped up his dirty clothes and headed out of the bathroom.

           Kibum was sitting in the alcove just past the table Jinki had left him in, holding a book in his lap with his palm. His gaze lifted when the door had opened and the smile upon his face seemed sincere. “How was it?”

           Out of instinct, he answered in his native tongue but quickly corrected himself. “It was pleasant, thank you. I’ve never felt such soft fabric.”

          “Well, they’re yours to keep.” Kibum scrunched his nose as he stepped closer and focused on the old clothes in his arms. “I can have those cleaned for you.”     

           Jinki gazed at them for a long moment before nodding. “Thank you.”

           “Set them there by the door and I’ll have a servant fetch them.” Hesitantly Jinki did as he was ordered before staring at Kibum as the boy spoke. “Have you got an answer to my offer, Onyu?”

           “I have.” He knew his parents would be yelling at him to keep moving, but something was telling him to stay here. He couldn’t quite explain it, but he could sense this place was important for some part of his destiny. “I’d like to take your offer of employment under one condition.”

            “Oh?” Kibum’s eyebrow lifted curiously.

           “That you teach me your language.”

           Kibum grinned. “I think I can do that. Welcome to your new home, Onyu.”

           Jinki gritted his teeth before bowing his head, nervous. “It’s actually Jinki.”

           “What?”

           “My name.” He ran his tongue over his bottom lip before finding Kibum’s questioning gaze. “It’s Jinki.”

            “Why did you lie?”

            “I am running from my past and I wasn’t sure if it was safe here to be myself.” He quietly explained. “But being that I am to stay and be around you more, I figured.. You needed the truth.”

            “Alright.. Jinki.” Kibum gave a small smile before growing serious. “I’m not sure how familiar you are with monarchs and the appropriate way to address them. While I am quite comfortable with you calling me Kibum when alone, I do require you to refer to me as Your Highness in the presence of others.”

           Jinki blinked, trying the words off his tongue through his thoughts before he scowled. “Your.. Highness?”

            “Yes Jinki?”

            “Can I add another condition to our agreement?”

            “Depends on what it is.”

           “Teach me your culture.” Jinki hopefully stated. “Manners, etiquette. If I am to make here home I cannot live off the traditions of my people.”

           The prince was soft in presence as he nodded, eyes slightly closed. “I will try my best, Jinki.”

           “Thank you, Your Highness.”

           Kibum grinned. “You’re quick.”

           Jinki sure hoped so.

-----

           Telling his father of the recent developments went about as well as Kibum had expected. He waited patiently as his father berated him about how dangerous and stupid it was releasing Jinki without knowing the full story, how he couldn’t just bring anyone into his service, and that before Jinki could become his guard he had to be tested. He was translating the last part to Jinki when his father’s eyes narrowed. “Can he not speak our language Kibum?”

           “Not yet Father.”

           “How do you speak to him then?” Eyes flicking between the two of them.

           “He speaks the language of the Ki’jash people. It’s one we both can speak Father.” Kibum remained as stoic as he could. “We’ve already begun in teaching him ours.”

           “Well then.” The King scratched his beard, studying the boy standing near his son. He knew he should thank him for saving his son, but there was something about him that gave him pause. “I need you to explain to him that to be your guard he must demonstrate his skills to the Master of Arms.”

           “Yes Father. Anything else?”

           “No. You’re dismissed.”

           When Kibum turned toward Jinki, the boy was looking at him expectantly. He flashed him a small reassuring smile before nodding with his head to represent it was time to leave. As they stepped through the office doors he quietly stated, “I know you must be confused, but we had to leave the premises when he dismissed us.”

           “Is that.. Customary?”

           “Yes.” Kibum managed to quietly laugh, Jinki’s almost childlike innocence amusing. “He has ordered that you take a test of skills against the Master of Arms to be able to be my guard.”

            “Test of skills, Your Highness?”

           “Oh please don’t fret too much Jinki.” They slipped through two columns into an empty hallway. Jinki recognized it briefly to the one leading to Kibum’s rooms. “You will have to spar with the man that is the Master of Arms of our castle. If you hold up well enough against him, you’ll pass easily. After which you’ll be able to discuss with the tailors and the blacksmiths about what you wish your uniform to be.”

           “My uniform, Your Highness?”

            “We can’t have you wearing simple clothes,” Kibum stated as if a well-known fact. “The only requirement is that our family crest is somewhere visible on you. Otherwise, it’s up to you. I’m pursuing you wish to keep your sword?”

            “Very much so.” As if worried someone would rush by and take it from him Jinki’s hand had drifted to the hilt at his waist.

            “Come. It’s almost tea time. I’m quite famished.”

            "Yes, Your Highness.” The words were foreign on his tongue still. He hadn’t ever needed to say them in his native tongue and he wasn’t sure if he’d learn to say them easily in any language.

----

           The Master of Arms was a big burly man, easily six and a half feet tall, and enough hair on his arms to get mistaken for a bear. He had a scruffy beard and dark skin, but his eyes were almost piercing as his attention fell on Jinki standing before him. “You expect me to give the test to him, Your Majesty? He’s just a child.”

           “A child that seemingly fought off multiple attackers to save the Prince single-handedly.” The King rubbed his chin, studying Jinki intently before sighing as if bored. “My son seems to have some type of attachment to him. Please proceed with the test.”

           Jinki leaned his head closer to where Kibum was leaning against the smooth stone of the castle steps, the led back into the gardens, lands used for military training and for parties. “What are they talking about?”

            “Sir Hyungi is concerned with administering the test to you because of your age.”

            “My age?”

            “He thinks he’ll be fighting a child and I’m certain he feels like he’s doing something wrong. Like you don’t stand a chance.” Kibum explained quietly. When Hyungi walked into the middle of the large landing between the two sets of stairs, he gestured with his hand, smiling. “He’s ready for you.”

           Jinki grinned as he stepped away, softly calling out, “Wish me luck, Your Highness.”

           “Good luck indeed, Jinki.” He mumbled in his native tongue, eyes focused as Hyunji pulled his sword out. Jinki followed suit, following the feel of the room. Kibum had learned even with the language barrier the boy was exceptionally good at feeling the room out. Jinki’s black blade glinted in the bright morning sun as he gripped it with both of his hands. Hyunji nodded his head signaling the start of the test just as he stepped forward. Jinki didn’t move, just waiting, but then Kibum noticed his grip was changing. He couldn’t quite place how the different placements of his fingers would change in his swordplay. It wasn’t until Hyunji pushed on the offense, swinging his sword swiftly, did Kibum realize what the different hold was for. Jinki sidestepped the advance, sword twirling to block the attack easily. He glanced at his father, and he smiled when he saw the slight shock on his features.

           The two continued their duel and as time crept by Kibum realized Jinki had yet to slide out of defense. Then Kibum’s eyebrows shot up as he muttered. “He’s making him tired.”

           And sure enough, Hyunji’s huge size was proving as a weakness the longer the test went. His movements were almost slurred as if he was stepping through molasses. It was then Jinki’s feet shifted and he pressed on. He moved his sword like an extension of his arm, moving the weapon with ease and skilled precision. It was obvious he was well acquainted with the dark blade.  Then as Hyunji stumbled, Jinki pressing far too quickly for him to keep up with, he was disarmed with a quick flick of Jinki’s wrist. His broadsword clanged as it skidded down the steps before coming to a halt on the lower landing. Jinki lowered his sword from where it was held an inch from Hyunji’s throat, sliding it into it’s scabbard and bowing his head. He looked toward Kibum, eyes wide and expectant.

           Kibum was beaming from ear to ear. He had never seen anyone disarm Hyunji in all his ears watching over him training others. From the stunned looks on Hyunji and his Father’s faces he knew they hadn’t either. He stepped forward before pausing when his Father stood. Jinki automatically lowered his gaze, as he was taught, and it made Kibum smile a little. He was a quick learner. “Son, Come here.”

           “Yes, Father?”

           “Translate for me.” Jinki’s eyes flicked from the King to Kibum quickly. As his Father spoke Kibum relayed easily. It wasn’t until his Father and Hyunji turned to leave that Jinki spoke.

            “I did well, correct?”

           He was so soft around the edges and looking up at him with a sort of innocence, and it felt completely at odds with the mastery and skill Kibum had just witnessed moments before. “You did so well. Not only have you passed, but my Father seems to believe you can handle being my only guard around the grounds.”

            “Only?”

           Kibum grinned. “I hope that’s quite alright with you.”

           Jinki gave a small smile. “I never worked well with others anyway.”

            “Good.” He hummed quietly. “We have some time before lunch if you wish to go get fitted in your uniform.”

           As they walked Jinki softly asked, “Can it be all black?”

           “That can be arranged, however,” Kibum looked at him from the corner of his eye. “May I ask why you wish as such?”

           “Oh, ah,” Jinki cleared his throat, fingers almost nervously tapping the hilt of his sword on his hip. “It’d resemble my Father’s personal armor.”

           Kibum understood completely. “The blacksmith is just this way.”

-----

           Jinki was shown his room by a nice servant girl. It wasn’t extravagant. There was a decent sized bed in the middle of the room, a set of dresser drawers, a water basin, and a mirror. There was a small window up near the ceiling above the bed and the cold wood of the floor was covered with a somewhat large rug that came out from under the bed. It was spacious enough, and though only having the bare necessities, Jinki didn’t have much to begin with. He looked at his dirty and almost tattered bags in his hands before laying them on the dresser. He pulled out the drawing of his parents that had been folded and pressed between two pieces of bark to protect it from ripping during his travels. Running his finger over it the paper felt worn. It was commissioned shortly after his birth, him as a babe held safely in his mother’s arms. He’d need to buy a frame when he got the leave day.

           Further down was the wooden pendant his father had pressed into his hands as he said the last few words he’d ever say. The engraving was ‘Protection’ in their language. He rolled it between his fingers, staring at the way the black paint glinted in the light and the bit of dried blood he hadn’t been able to get from the grooves, debating if he should wear it or keep it in his rooms. With a sigh he lifted it over his head, straightening it on his chest. His uniform wouldn’t be ready until at least tomorrow morning and his armor even longer. His uniform was largely up to him and he had never enjoyed bulky steel. Per Castle regulations, however, he had to have a set of battle armor for protection duty during parades, public outings and if the circumstances required, war.  

           He had chosen a simple thick, black fabric. The family crest would be sewn into the garment on his left . He had also chosen a leather and metal corset. It wouldn’t be as tight as he had seen women wear, but it would serve as added protection to his vital organs in his abdomen. He had almost wanted to keep his boots, but the sole was so worn down there was a hole beginning to form. The new ones being made for him were going to be up to his knee, absent of any excess of buckles or embellishments. He wanted simple. Simple allowed him to feel as if he was blending into the background.

           He grabbed an apple he had picked up from the table in Kibum’s rooms when he left that morning and foregone unpacking the rest of his things. Most of it was old clothes he no longer needed, but among the dirty cloth were family heirlooms his mother gave to him in hopes they wouldn’t be destroyed or lost. He sure hoped the tailor would be done with his clothes the following morning. When he did, that meant that he could begin his duties as Kibum’s guard. Having a purpose would help alleviate his wandering thoughts.

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A/N: Let me tell you how much I cannot wait until they speak Kibum's native tongue for the majority of their conversations. No more italics lmao anyway I hope you like it ^-^