Chapter 1: Eyes

Eyes. If there's one thing I'll always remember about my mother's appearance and I forget everything else, I'll always remember her eyes. It's the only physical feature I inherited from her. They were icy blue and large, and a shape similar to mine. My brother had the same color eyes, but they were shaped more like our father's. To this day I still remember the sad look on her face and the tears which fell from the edges of her beautiful eyes on the day we left her forever.

One would say that childhood lasts more than a decade, but for me, five years was all of the time I had to enjoy my youth. Five years to live my life happily before I was to train in the ways of an assassin. Five years of a normal life. Most of it, I don't even remember.

The happy memories of my family that I still have are very few and far apart. My father was distant and too occupied with his work as a businessman and undercover assassin.

My brother... well, that's a very long and complicated story.

Looking back, the only memory I recall of my mother was the day we left her. That day is what changed my life forever. It still saddens me to imagine the distraught expression on her face.

When I left America, I was five-years-old. I remember every detail of that day perfectly. At the airport, with me, I carried a black backpack with all of the belongings I could carry, the thermostat was seventy-two degrees, and the weather was overcast. My flight number: C-22. I bore a blue t-shirt, dark jeans, and a pair of worn grey sneakers, my fringed black hair short and combed. As my brother, Bi-Han, my mother, Lana Hale, and I sat on a bench, my eyes remain glued on the floor, which was tiled with polished granite.

As my father took all of our bags to the conveyor belt, I turned my head to look into the tear-stained eyes of my mother. Her usually light blue eyes were reddened immensely from crying the past few days, and she hadn't done anything to conceal it. After a few moments, she broke down yet again and began to sob in into her hands.

"Don't cry, Mom. It's okay," I heard my brother say. It always amused me to hear my brother's voice. It was deep, especially for a ten-year-old. But it wasn't the time for laughter.

"It'll be alright, Mom," I backed up my brother, putting my arm around her shoulders and feeling her wavy, caramel brown hair. She tried wiping her damp cheeks with her handkerchief, but couldn't restrain herself. Now that I think about it, I understand her pain. Having her two sons and husband taken across the Pacific Ocean to become assassins, never seeing her again... I honestly can't blame her. I could've sworn that even my serious and impassive brother even had water in his eyes. She turned to look at me, and said between quivers,

"Oh... Kuai Liang... Bi-Han... why?" she flared yet again. Looking at her sobbing, pathetic figure made my naive, childish side get the best of me, and my eyes began to tear up. When she flashed a look at me I turned my head quickly, trying not to show her my weakness.

Moments later, my father approached us, quiet and without much expression as always. I didn't really like my father much, to say the least. He had that, 'I don't talk to you, you don't talk to me,' sort of impression. That is, unless he was yelling at you to be better. I never really understood him, and sadly, I don't think I'll ever come to. Casually re-cuffing his white, button-up shirt, he took a look at my mother and cleared his throat.

"Um... Lana, it's time," he muttered awkwardly. Stroking his clean-shaved chin while waiting for her response, he seemed to be losing his patience. "Lana-"

"I'm coming," my mother interjected. He outstretched his hand and helped her up.

At that time, I didn't really know what to think. I was angry that I had to do this against my will and my mother's will, sad that I'd be leaving her and America forever, and confused as to why this was all happening. The emotions and the perplexity was...

Overwhelming.

That's all I could really say about what I was feeling at the time. Nothing was sinking in. I was surrounded by these strange feelings and thoughts and in front of me was a path that I didn't know whether or not I wanted to take.

All of the thoughts rushed over me like a tidal wave and swam around me like a school of fish as we approached the terminal. Even at the age of five, I was concerned, worried, sad, and unsure. Most children like me wouldn't have even really understood or cared about what was happening. But I did.

When we arrived at the terminal, my father and mother stepped aside to speak in private.

I didn't care if I was still young and had the rest of my life ahead of me. Right at that moment, a deep feeling of anger took over me. My father was taking my life in America and my mother from me. I tried to conceal the anger which made my blood boil and pulsate through my veins, but I must have not done a good enough job.

"What's wrong, Kuai?" Bi-Han asked. Now that I come to think of it, no matter how serious he sounded, he still had the slightest bit of sarcasm in his tone. Sarcasm: one of the traits my brother inherited from our father of many others. I thought of what I should say. Should I just shake it off, or say something? After a few seconds, I came to my conclusion.

'Silence is the true friend that never betrays,' I remembered.

"Well?" asked Bi-Han, beginning to grow impatient.

"Um, it's nothing," I replied ineptly.

"Are you sure?" he asked skeptically, seeing through my pretense.

"I said it's nothing," putting some emphasis on the last word. He gave me a confused glance for a few moments and shrugged.

"Suit yourself. It's not like you're the only one who's upset," he said in a sad tone, looking down to the floor. I guess I really wasn't the only one who was feeling the pain. I looked over to my parents. Even my father looked horribly depressed.

After a few moments of looking at the two, my mother leaned forward and their lips met for a few short instants which felt like much longer than it actually was. I knew that somewhere deep down inside, my father really did love her with all of his heart, and that he regretted leaving her. Under his facade, there was a man who truly cared for his family and didn't want to leave. He just didn't show it much. Nonetheless, it took me quite a while to actually realize that. They walked up to me, my mother's tears slightly dried.

"Kuai Liang, Bi Han. This is it. I want you both to know that I'll always love you both very much, and want you both to be happy for me. Okay?" she said sweetly, forcing a smile. Before I could speak, my brother replied slowly,

"Yes, mom. We love you too... Goodbye." She gave him a kiss on the forehead, and then I spoke,

"We'll do our best, mom. I love you."

She gave us both one final firm hug and waved us goodbye as we boarded the plane. For those few brief moments, I felt like time had stopped. I didn't hear anything or see anything but her. Even as I took my seat, the only thing I saw was her half-crying, half-smiling face as she waved us goodbye. Then, the plane ascended.

Before I knew it, all of the emotion and sadness had flooded over me, and tears began to fall from my eyes.

But the strange part was, rather than the hot feeling I expected the tears to give me, they felt cold against my cheek. I rubbed my hand against the water and looked at it. It felt freezing cold...

Like ice.

Author's Note: Constructive reviews, please! Tell me if characterization or writing style or anything like that was a bit off, eh? Thanks!

Very special thanks to EmboldenRose for reading over this chapter and reassuring me to post it without major changes. My heartfelt prayers are with her and the citizens of England right now during the rioting.

~MortalKombatProdigy99