Across the Ice
The frozen lake stretched endlessly beneath them, black water groaning beneath the white sheet of snow and glassy ice. Raka's muscles quivered under the strain, her wrinkled arms carrying Akio as if he weighed the world itself. Behind them, Yatsumiya and Bradzi's rifles sang fire and ice, bursts of vials exploding against the relentless pursuit of the Fox and Oni masks.
Akio's stomach rose and fell shallowly. Every breath hurt. His vision blurred. But then — a flash.
A face.
A child.
A memory that had been missing for too long.
Raka's Refusal
Akio stirred weakly in Raka's arms. His cracked lips formed words that were more grit than sound:
"Put me down... I have to... stand..."
Raka's jaw clenched. She didn't stop running.
"No."
Her voice cut like steel.
"You've already made your choice once. You chose to live. You chose to be carried. If you change that now — if you throw away the planning, the protection, the blood we've already spilled — then all this means nothing."
Snow whipped across her scarred face. Her old but iron-hard eyes didn't waver.
"If you rise now, fellow, it has to be because you know. Not because you feel guilty. Not because you think you owe us. But because you finally remember what's worth standing for."
For a moment, the only sound was their ragged breathing and the crack of gunfire in the distance.
The Surge of Memory
Akio closed his eyes. And then... it came.
He remembered running through the fields behind the old pharmacy as a child. His brother laughing, racing him to the river. And always with them, a third kid — blond hair catching the sunlight, always a step behind, but never letting go.
That childs name rose from the dark corners of his fractured memory.
Hajumi Kiniko.
The Oni Mask.
Akio's eyes shot open, tears blurring his vision. That's why I felt it — that strange familiarity. That was him all along.
Unlike his own blood brother, Hajumi wasn't family — but he might as well have been. He was always there. Always sitting by their grandfather's feet, listening to stories about herbs, remedies, patience. He wasn't kin by blood, but by devotion.
Akio remembered watching him once — a younger Hajumi staring at their grandfather with a gaze full of awe. That was it. That was the look he saw in the Oni's mask — warped, twisted, but rooted in something real.
The Choice
Akio gritted his teeth and whispered to Raka, his voice breaking like broken glass:
"Put me down. I remember. I know who he is. I know how to stop him."
Raka didn't falter, didn't break stride.
"Do you? Or are you about to throw your life away chasing shadows of the past?"
Her voice was hard, but beneath it was fear. She had carried too many broken bodies to graves. She would not carry his if he chose recklessly.
Akio's hand clenched into a fist. His body trembled.
"I thought forgetting was weakness. But now I see it — remembering is worse. Because I see who I failed. My brother. Hajumi. Marina. Grandfather. All of them. I failed them all."
A silence fell heavy between them. The gunfire behind them dulled to echoes. Even the ice seemed to pause.
"But this time," Akio continued, his voice low, firm, "I'm not going to run. I'm not going to let our plans fall apart because of despair. I've made my choice. I'm going to use what I remember to end this. And I need your help, Raka."
Raka's Reluctance
Raka's teeth ground together. Every instinct screamed to hold on tighter, to keep him safe. But she saw it now — the fire in his eyes. The despair was still there, yes, but behind it was resolve.
"...You really mean it, fella?" she rasped.
Akio nodded, weak but unshaken.
For the first time, Raka hesitated. Then, with a grunt like thunder, she bent her knees and launched herself upward with impossible force.
She hurled Akio into the air, toward the charging Oni.
"Then show me you remember!" she roared.
The Leap
The cold wind howled around him as Akio soared. His hand gripped a vial, one he had concocted from nothing but household chemicals — a desperate invention, crude but effective. He smashed it forward, the glass shattering into a blinding chemical mist.
The Oni Mask staggered, roaring as his vision burned white.
Akio's hand shot forward. For a heartbeat, he thought he would miss. His fingers grazed porcelain — then closed around it.
The Oni Mask tore free.
Snowflakes fell across the childs revealed face. Blond hair, streaked with sweat. Eyes — wide, furious, but undeniably familiar.
"Hajumi..." Akio whispered.
The teenager froze. His breaths were ragged, wild. But beneath the fury, something flickered — something old, something buried.
Revelation
Fox landed beside Hajumi, blade raised. But even he hesitated at the sight.
Raka, Yatsumiya, and Bradzi stopped in their tracks, wide-eyed.
Akio, battered, bloody, but standing on shaking legs, looked into Hajumi's uncovered face.
"I knew it," Akio said, voice hoarse but steady. "I thought I was imagining things, but it was you all along. My brother's best friend. Grandfather's shadow. The kid who sat with us... while I pretended not to notice how much he meant to you."
Hajumi's breath caught. His fists clenched. His rage faltered.
"You were never my blood," Akio continued. "But you were his. Not by name, not by blood, but by heart. And that's why you've gone this far, isn't it? Because you thought carrying his memory was your burden. Because you thought if you fought hard enough, if you killed enough, if you avenged him, you'd become worthy of being his heir."
Snow swirled between them. Hajumi's hands shook.
For a moment, silence ruled. Only the icy river groaned beneath them.
The Plan's Seed
Akio finally stood tall, bloodied but resolute. His friends behind him waited for the fight to resume, but Akio's eyes burned with something different.
"I know how to stop you," Akio said. "Not by killing you. Not by out-fighting you. But by reminding you who you are. And by proving... that grandfather's legacy doesn't belong to one of us. It belongs to all of us. And why you built the clan... That's right."
The Uki brothers looked at each other, confused but shaken. Raka's lips curled into the faintest ghost of a grin.
Fox tensed, torn between blade and silence. Hajumi's uncovered face trembled, his eyes locked on Akio's.
And in that frozen moment, Akio knew fate had guided his memories back at the right time. Fate — or something greater.
To Be Continued...