The Circle Forms
The streets had fallen silent. The lesser masked assassins lay scattered — groaning in the snow, unconscious, broken, or retreating into the shadows. Raka's ragged breaths echoed somewhere behind him, the Uki brothers keeping her safe because of her slight injuries overall, but all of that faded for Akio.
Because now — before him, framed by the falling snow and the pale moonlight — stood the two who had shattered his world:
The Fox Mask: silent, watchful, his head tilted with almost sorrowful calm.
The Oni Mask: heavy, broad, his breath fogging against the crimson teeth painted across his snarling mask.
They didn't move at first. Neither did Akio.
The storm raged above. The city held its breath. And then the Oni Mask cracked his knuckles, his voice distorted and low from the changer inside:
"Round two, little brother."
The First Clash
Akio charged first. Not out of recklessness — but out of necessity. If he waited, they'd box him in.
He hurled a vial. It burst mid-air, exploding into a flare of blinding light.
Oni Mask shielded his eyes but still advanced, swinging a kick like a sledgehammer. Akio ducked, his ribs screaming, and countered with a shard of glass he gripped like a blade, slashing at Oni's thigh.
Fox Mask darted in, blocking the follow-up strike with unnatural speed. His hand closed around Akio's wrist, and for a fleeting second — Akio saw it. The shape of veins. The warmth of skin. His brother's hand.
It broke him for a breath. And Oni's fist punished him for it.
The punch landed against his jaw with an audible crack. His head snapped sideways. He staggered. The world blurred. Blood filled his mouth.
"Pathetic," Oni's muffled growl came. "Still hesitating. Still thinking family means anything."
Memory of Marina
As Akio collapsed into the snow, his vision faltered. The night blurred into memory.
He saw Marina's face — that tear-streaked smile on the night she left.
Her words echoed through him: "Don't give up. Not again. Not while there's still a timeline worth saving."
He coughed blood into the snow and forced himself back up, spitting the crimson from his lips. His knees shook, but he stood.
"I already gave up once," he rasped. "I let my friends die. I almost lost Marina. I swore I wouldn't make that mistake again. Not ever."
His hand dipped into his coat. Three vials gleamed faintly. His heart thundered.
"This time... I fight until I have nothing left."
The Fox Speaks
For the first time, the Fox Mask stepped forward. His voice was softer, more human — no distorter, no mask of rage.
"Akio... Stop this. You're not strong enough. You never were. That's why Grandfather died."
Akio froze mid-motion.
His heart tightened, like invisible hands squeezing his heart. His vision clouded with images of the old gramps — his wrinkled smile, the steady way he guided young Akio's hands through mortar and pestle, the smell of dried herbs and fresh ink on prescription papers.
"Grandfather... died because of the Lab," Akio whispered, his voice trembling.
The Fox Mask shook his head. "No. He died because you weren't there. You forgot him. You abandoned him for your 'research.' I stayed. I carried his wishes. And I will keep carrying them — even if it means destroying you."
Oni's Wrath
Before Akio could even process, Oni Mask lunged. His strikes were heavy, merciless, battering Akio's guard with the force of a landslide. Each blow echoed with rage, with betrayal.
"Do you hear yourself, Fox?" Oni snarled mid-combo. "You talk like he matters. But this coward—this spawn of failure—was never worthy of Grandfather's name! I'll crush him here and now, and then maybe the Lab will finally bleed!"
A kick slammed into Akio's ribs, nearly lifting him off his feet. He hit the ground hard, air leaving his lungs. His vision blackened at the edges.
Oni stomped forward, grabbing Akio by the collar and hauling him up like he weighed nothing. Snowflakes melted against the steam of his breath.
"You were the mistake," Oni spat, tightening his grip. "And I'll erase you like one."
Akio's Fury
Something in Akio snapped.
A flash of Marina's broken smile. A flash of his grandfather's hand guiding his own. A flash of the promise he made — never to crumble again.
With a roar that tore through his bleeding throat, Akio smashed a vial against Oni's gut. Acid hissed, burning through fabric, searing skin. Oni screamed, dropping him, clutching his gut.
Akio staggered up, coughing, blood dripping from his lip. His voice was hoarse, but it burned with fire.
"I'm no mistake. I became a pharmacist because of Grandfather. Because he believed in helping people — not destroying them. And if you think I'll let you twist his legacy into this madness, then you're the ones dishonoring him!"
He hurled another vial — this one bursting into fire that spread across the snow like a living serpent. The flames roared between them, casting the Fox and Oni in shadow.
Brother vs. Brother
The Fox Mask lowered his head. His voice was almost trembling when he spoke.
"You think you know what he wanted? You don't. You were too busy running from your pain. Too busy drowning in despair while I carried his dreams!"
Akio shook his head, teeth gritted. "No... You carried your obsession. Not his dreams. He wanted peace, not war. He wanted healing, not this twisted 'clan.'"
The Fox Mask's voice broke, sharp with grief and rage: "And you think he'd be proud of you? You, who forgot him? Who let him die alone?"
Akio's breath caught. The words tore into him like knives. For a moment, he faltered — his heart screaming guilt, shame, regret.
And then he roared.
"I may have failed him once. But I will not fail again. Not Marina. Not Raka. Not myself. If you're my brother, then you should know this— I'll fight you until the end, because giving up is the one thing I refuse to do anymore!"
The Duel Rages
The battle became a storm.
Fox Mask moved like lightning — slashes with a short blade, kicks sharp as wind. Oni Mask was thunder — every strike heavy, crushing, shaking the ground.
And Akio — Akio was the fire between them. Every vial burst into light, smoke, frost, flame. His body bled with every exchange, but his eyes never dimmed.
Each blow carried Marina's memory. Each counter carried his grandfather's teachings. Each scream carried the pain of a pharmacist who had already died once and refused to die again.
The snow turned red. The air turned hot. The night turned endless.
The Breaking Point
At last, Oni Mask caught him. A brutal knee to the gut sent Akio crumpling. He hit the ground hard, coughing blood onto the snow.
Fox Mask stood above him, blade drawn, trembling as he held it over Akio's stomach.
"Stay down," he whispered. "Please. Don't make me do this. Don't make me kill you, brother."
Akio looked up at him — through the mask, into the trembling hand that refused to strike.
His lips curled into a bloody smile.
"You already lost me once. But I'm not dying tonight."
With his last strength, Akio smashed his final vial into the ground. Smoke and fire erupted, swallowing the street in chaos.
Into the Flames
The Fox Mask staggered back. Oni roared in rage, swinging blindly through the smoke.
And Akio — broken, bleeding, coughing blood — vanished into the flames.
His voice echoed faintly through the storm as he limped into the dark:
"I won't be your weapon. I won't be your mistake. If you want me, then come and take me. But you'll never break me again."
The Fox Mask lowered his blade, shaking. His gut heaved. His hands trembled.
"Akio..." he whispered, the word cracking like a sob behind the mask.
And Oni snarled, fists dripping blood, his voice deep and venomous:
"Then we'll hunt him. We'll hunt him until there's nothing left."
The storm howled above, mourning all that had been lost. The two brothers stood at the edge of choice, torn between blood and duty. One path meant sacrificing Akio to the lab, a pawn to erase his brother's greatest enemy. The other meant a fight that could end in tragedy, for Akio feared that if he struck too hard, he might shatter more than the battle—he might kill the younger brother he still loved deep inside even if he didn't remember him and only slightly.
To Be Continued...