Despite her small stature, cute appearance and dead gorgeous looks, Sunny did not consider herself datable. College freshmen and seniors alike swooned over her like hungry bees attracted to sweet honey--whether they had been male or female did not matter. Girls in particular found themselves hypnotized and lost in her sultry gaze and short, chestnut brown hair. Her prince like charm and warming smiles drew girls in by the dozen. However,  that did not mean that the opposite found her any less attractive. Sharp gazed returned at them as they stared at her and the smell of lavender whenever she'd walked by, men were, equally, if not irrevocably more obsessed over her.

What with all the college undergraduates dying to take her away in their pockets and despite them pushing in line to see her as she strolled down the hallway to first period, Sunny simply did not find herself to be the sort that would date. She’d thought about it long and hard as to why she did not date like any other twenty-three years old girl in their final year of college and came up with one reason.

Her dear, sweet uncle.

Mister Lee was a powerful man in his own right. He often expressed himself by sitting on the porch of their backyard. His aged legs would dangle effortlessly over the edge, not quite reaching the ground, and he would lazily blow smoke from his wooden pipe, taking in the the exceptional view of the cherry blossom leaves falling to the ground. He owned a simple life, and loved it.

However, beneath the gentle wrinkles of his aged forehead breathed a ruthless man. And Sunny knew--she knew that her dear, sweet uncle had not always been as sweet as he was now--and remembered the times when the man she knew today brought death with but a sweep of his blade.

Mister Lee was, and still remained today, the leader of Korean's most fearsome underground criminal syndicate. Of course, whenever the topic cropped up in front of her, he would brush it off by saying that he had retired, but Sunny knew otherwise.

She took a detour through an empty lecture and exited from the back door, eventually ending up in her designated classroom. Calculus. Morning calculus, and a long lecture at that. Bother. She had a long day ahead of her.

***

“How was your day today, Soonkyu?”

“Uncle, aigoo, how many times have I asked you to call me Sunny? Su-un-neh! Sunny!”

Mister Lee chuckled and his eyes dipped into half moons. Aged as he may be, his charming smile and eyes were still there. It was a trait, Sunny would like to think, that ran in the family, to be able to charm people, whether it were for good willed purposes or not. And she wasn’t an exception in that. She couldn’t help it but grow cautious of it. Because of it, she’d heard stories of how criminal lords were led into a false sense of security when around her uncle. And the rest became history.

“This uncle is getting old now, I tend to forget easily.” he leant across the seat from her and took her hand. Gently, he ran his thumb over her knuckles. “Please forgive this old man, neh?”

“Uncle...since when have you gotten so cheesy.”

***

The moon looked hungry that night. The subliminal white coating adored over its arching crescent body shorn down onto Earth. Even though vast distances separated them, its pure radiance never ceased to wane. Midnight had come swift, and with it a single ray of light that pierced through the upper levels of the Lee mansion and into Mister Lee’s room.

The air was still in his room except for the slow and powerful intakes of breath and a rhythmical exhalation. With a criminal syndicate under his belt, he still preferred to sleep on the floor on a modest futon. His room held the bare essentials that any room would have needed: absolutely nothing. In a way, his room reflected his life perfectly.

Mister Lee was a man who never asked for more than needed, because he never had to in the first place. However, in all that was odd tonight, he had to ask for more. He wished fervently--first--that his aging back would for once sit upright when he wanted it to and--second--that he had installed curtains inside of his room for the moonlight tonight was particularly strong, tugging spitefully at his eyelids and--third--that whoever had decided to creep into his room would do a better job.

Annoyed, he reached for his knife underneath the pillow. If they had wanted to assassinate him, then they should have sent someone competent--someone who could sneak in without alerting him of their presence. However, the raw mockery of the fool they had hired had Mister Lee reeled up, and thoroughly and utterly frustrated. A dull unfamiliarity crept through his spine when the solidity of the knife wasn’t felt. Falling, the single droplet of sweat rolled unevenly over his creased wrinkle. When was it that he’d been pressured like this...? A decade. Too long has it been since he’d felt this way. Whoever had entered had the nerves to pilfer his steed from underneath his head, literally.

“Are you looking for something?” a voice cut through the air. He chuckled in amusement for no apparent reason and twisted onto his side. His eyes squinted through the unveiling darkness, and although he could not make out the indiscernible body; the feminine silhouette, short stature and voice that spoke to him confirmed it all. A female. Whoever wanted his head had the gall to send a female after him. “Perhaps, your knife?” the invader continued, coyly.

He caught a glint of silver twirling between and around the intruder’s deft fingers. With practised ease, the female caught the knife through the cusp of her fingers and placed it onto the floor before sliding it over with a gentle kick. “Pick it up,” she said to him. Without a doubt, he was being taunted and greatly underestimated. Although he preferred to keep a calm head whenever provoked, his pride took a beating this time.

Doing just that, Mister Lee got onto his feet and took stance. The blade felt light in his hands. He’d swung his steed a thousand and this time won’t be any different. He dropped his arms to the side, with the blade’s tip dipping to the ground, and bent his knees at a slight angle, stooping low to spread out his center of gravity. “Who sent you, little girl?” he snarled.

She remained quiet and stared him down, her gaze unwavering. A cloud rolled passed and revealed the moon. Shining, the pale shadow unveiled the room in deathly white and for a brief period of a split second, her eyes came into focus. Those molten chocolate brown eyes weren’t meant to be read. They seemed to hold another side of life beneath them and Mister Lee wasn’t too keen to find out.

“Obviously, you’re after my head, little girl, but I am afraid I cannot give that to you. You see, I have this niece of mine--adorable child she is--and it’d kill me if I cannot see her.”

“Then,” the female spoke, “I’d pray that she doesn’t meet me after I leave.”

“With my head?”

“With your head.”

“Using your hands?”

“If I have to.”

“But I’ve got a knife. I don’t think--”

If Mister Lee hadn’t realised it before, he sure did now. The second time the clouds parted for the moon to shine ignited the way for the pale light to unravel the gleaming steel by her side. It wasn’t a particular long blade, and that alone shouldn’t have traumatized him. But it did anyway. Not the length. Not the immaculate curve of the steel or the paper thin edges. But the sheer crimson which guise up and down the daunting length.

A comically amused expression split across Mister Lee’s face. “Now...that is hardly fair, don’t you think?”

***

It was a little past twelve when Sunny ran through the backdoor of the Lee mansion. Her short, bleached blonde hair was tied back into a small ponytail and her face drenched in sweat. It was a routine that her uncle had established for her, actually, from the tender age of four, or so she was told--to swing around a wooden stick, as her four years old mentality had put it bluntly.

Sunny flipped off her sandals and skipped through the wide hallway, eager to quench her thirst with a glass of refreshment. She wasn’t in the mood for something sweet. Something strong and throat burning was on her mind. A shot of whiskey from her uncle’s cabinet? Without a doubt, yes.

However, her mood quickly settled as the air became thick and the seemingly morbid atmosphere forced her to freeze in place. Furrowed eyebrows split across her face when a barely discernable figure stepped down from the stairs beside her. There bodies were in close proximity when her nose flared up at the raw stench of flesh and fresh blood.

The two women looked at each other awkwardly for any signs of familiarity. And then, Sunny asked, uncertainly, “Who are you?”

The woman in front of her cocked her head to the side. “You must be 'the adorable child,'” she said and Sunny shuddered. The woman’s voice jarred her heart. Cold.

But in all that was odd...it sent a nostalgic chill down the back of her spine that traveled faster than the speed of light through her body and straight--absolutely dead-centre--into her heart.

***

Thank you for reading and supporting this lil' story of ours. If you've liked it so far, a simple click here would make us really happy.