“Back when I lived with my father, it wasn’t easy to cope with the loss of my mother. She was a lovely, caring woman who wished best for me and father. She always adored how I wanted to protect everyone like her. She would put herself first whenever danger is near, which made me want to become like her. However, she warned me how dangerous the process could be. She trained during the harsh weather up on top of Mount Fuji to unlock the gates to utilize Spiritual Brutality at its fullest. She believed if she could master it, she would be able to control her bloodlust by converting the energy to frost. But because of the endless amount of jarring exercises, her lungs and blood froze. “
“I wanted to become like her. I wanted to master Spiritual Brutality in her way, to show how I can become like her and take care of my father and everyone else. I’ll be able to prove how I can—!”
“Chiaki.” The old man spoke, snapping Chiaki back from his endless thoughts. “You must stop training the way your mother trained. It’s impossible.”
Chiaki lifted himself from the mattress, his entire body numb from training. He couldn’t remember how he got here, but the old man must’ve dragged his body back into the warm hut.
“Did I faint?” Chiaki quiered, looking at his old man who was glowering back at the other.
“Yes you did..” the elderly man answered, “..and this is your twenty-third time in the last two weeks. You don't understand how dangerous it is to be following your mother’s footsteps.” The old man sighed, tired from repeatedly retrieving his son’s body from the blanket of snow. “I’ve had enough of this.”
“You don’t understand—”
“It’s you who doesn’t understand! You're putting yourself at risk of dying just like how she did!”
“Leave me alone, Father,” Chiaki muttered.
“You’re my son, for goodness sake—do you really want to die?! Or even worse, become a killer if you lose control of yourself?! You either give up by throwing your sword away or I’ll do it myself!” The old man threatened.
“I won’t drop out of my training, old man! I want to do what my mother couldn’t—protect people like you!” Chiaki shot back, glaring at the other with wrath in his eyes. The old man sighed.
“Fine then...” the old man said, reaching for his sheathed katana beside him before drawing it out. “I’ll chop both your arms off so you’ll be helpless.”
Chiaki backed himself against the wall, body still weak from passing out earlier. He’d have to fight through his exhaustion which… could be hazardous. Chiaki groaned, speedily nobbling his blade off the shelves on the wall before clashing against the old man’s cutting edge. The old man kicked the bed up with his foot, sending Chiaki through the hut’s roof and into the air. Then he sprung from the ground as the two hovered. Both blades clashed before they traded glares.
Chiaki’s foot stomped onto the old man’s chest, propelling him into the ground as he took a deep breath to recover his energy. Chiaki landed on the street, then dashed toward his father with no fear of the possibility of losing his mind. The old man snarled ahead, clashing his blade against the other’s before hurling himself back down onto the snow-covered pathway. He twisted his foot to point towards his son, and proceeded to throw himself into Chiaki’s attack. The left swing resulted with a clang, followed by right swing with another clang. The fight continued with traded blows until the old man pulled himself out of Chiaki’s attack range, only to face his son’s next charge.
Chiaki’s body halted mid-charge as a sharp pain pierced through his lungs, leaving him struggling to breathe. The old man seized the opportunity to cut through his left shoulder. Chiaki screeched as blood poured from the wound. Citizens nearby heard his cries, and watched in horror, devastated by the gruesome sight.
“That’s one arm.. now for the other!” The old man yelled whilst tightening his grip. But right as he lifted his sword in the air to prepare for another slash, frost formed under Chiaki’s foot.. Frost spread through the streets as a fire hydrant several meters away from the two exploded, projecting hundreds of icicles towards the old man. Chiaki’s severed shoulder formed a sharp icicle, creating an ice wall to defend himself from the barrage. The old man reacted quickly, slicing each icicle that nearly pierced his skin.. However, the position left him vulnerable. Chiaki stabbed through the old man’s heart from behind. Bloodlust took over Chaiki entirely, which led him to kill his own father instead of keeping the promise he made to himself—to defend him from anything that comes to him.
[—]
Back to the present
“Cruel of you to slice off my arm, old man.” Chiaki pulled off his blazer as a chunk of ice sculpted like his left arm was shown. “But with the blood of my lord flowing inside me, I’ve been able to master it.”
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He felt breathless, barely managing to be upright on his moving train while his mind throbbed with the sum of bloodlust circulating around his body. His breathing started to go out of control, however he didn’t lose his will like how Hashimoto did back in the village.
—
Hoshika groaned, hearing the train horn coming from the side as she clenched onto the katana handle. Blood dripped from her fingertips, Hashimoto caught a glimpse of her left hand, slick with fresh crimson.
“You can’t keep fighting, Hoshika. Leave it to me and Atsushi to deal with this guy,” Hashimoto insisted in a worried tone.
Chiaki leered at the two, maneuvering the railwagon away from the NPSJ train to arrange his next assault. Frost spread miles away from the head of the train, glaciers rose like a slope as the train sped up, racing while it had an advantage at the high ground. In the distance, the city sparkled with warm lights—a perfect scenery to bless Chiaki’s vision as his frosted train barreled down toward the other train.
“Watch out!” Atsushi cried out loud rushing toward the falling train as it prepared to crash. Spiritual Brutality peaked through his axe, guiding his jump to allow him to face the train’s attack. He swung his entire body in a circle, pounding his axe against the vehicle. The entire frosted railcar cracked before shattering into millions of pieces and saving the crew on board from their end. Atsushi fell on his back as he felt the side effects of playing around with Spiritual Brutality.
“Am I as flashy as you two now?” Atsushi grinned with an eyebrow raised, Hoshika chuckled before she wiped a drop of sweat from her forehead.
Chiaki dived down in aggression, forcing Hashimoto to raise his blade and block the incoming blow from above. Chiaki was a couple sword-lengths away when he planted his foot on the roof, charging in with an attempt to pierce through Hashimoto’s torso. Yet, his arm-blade, as well as parts of his arm, crumbled down once it started thawing rapidly. He leaped backwards, pondering to himself what could possibly be wrong with his Spiritual Brutality.
“Tch. Let’s settle this properly: me versus you, one on one,” Chiaki challenged, voice laced with frustration as he stared at the son of the greatest Hashishin. The other raised an eyebrow, then believed it was best as he nodded to accept the challenge.
“You two,” Hashimoto said, gesturing at the two exhausted fighters behind him. “Find a way to get everyone at the safest point of the train, I’ll handle this.”
“He’s too strong to be fought alone!” Hoshika protested, but before she could argue further, she felt a hand pat her shoulder from behind.
“Let him deal with it. After all he’s a Hashishin, he needs to take on fights on his own,” Atsushi interjected.
Hoshika sighed before looking at Hashimoto, giving him a light nod. The two ran off to the front of the train to get back in.
“Give me a second, I need to find myself a weapon.” Chiaki said, clenching his hand into a fist to puncture the roof of the freight car to create an opening. He jumped down the hole, then a couple seconds later sprung out of it—now wielding a katana in his right arm and his other frosted arm seemed to have sculpted the crumbled bits.
They stood in silence as the wind ruffled their hair, trading death stares that spiked their Spiritual Brutality. Neither of them were bothered by the other’s killing intent.
Hashimoto began pacing through the gust of wind, his blade in restless motion while Chiaki traced his attack. He prowled sideways and attacked, Hashimoto pulled the blade to his own waist to obstruct the upcoming blade. He flicked his wrist, his sword’s tip pointed up and slashed down Chiaki’s right shoulder. Chiaki’s Spiritual Brutality reacted fast enough to re-attach the arm back into place with the help of forming clumps of ice between the shoulder and arm to reconnect.
“I won’t lose my arm ever again,” Chiaki muttered.
One more step from Hashimoto led Chiaki to drop and land a kick through the other’s legs. With full strength, Chiaki was granted a clear opening to boot Hashimoto up in the air. Chiaki lunged up behind the Hashishin, and Hashimoto spun his body to face the villain, blades clashing against one another. Chiaki angrily gritted his teeth, forcing the Hashishin to be propelled into the furthest passenger car with a rigorous stomp against Hashimoto’s chest. Hashimoto managed to slice open a hole just large enough to fit through as his body was launched into the passenger car. His boots skidded along the path with seated gentlemen on both sides. They all climbed over each other and ran for their lives to the next passenger car. Chiaki threw himself down for another attack, their katanas clashing with a deafening clang that caused their ears to ring.
“Have I exhausted you yet?” Chiaki asked with a frown forming on his face. Hashimoto took a deep breath before he swung his dull blade upwards, the cutting edge grated against the other’s to sharpen it, now he felt more bold with a sharper edge.
“Not from our fight, more from the lack of sleep!” Hashimoto turned his arms, smirking once he delivered a quick blow across the villain’s torso. His smirk faded after witnessing his sliced body pulling itself together by the hardened frost that reconstructed the broken bones and organs to keep himself intact.
“Impossible,” Hashimoto thought to himself. Chiaki’s Spiritual Brutality reacted to his body fairly quickly. A second later, he noticed something off about Chiaki’s left arm but the pure glacier color made it hard to work out what the spherical objects were within.
It interfered with Hashimoto's focus, feeling the tip of the villain’s blade slice diagonally across the surface of his torso. He hissed, as blood sprayed out of his torso seeped into his eyes and blinded him temporarily. The seats and tables in the rows folded into the floor of the train. Fast thuds came from Chiaki’s, and everything dimmed before being illuminated the interior by the blazing figure.
“Did ya miss me, shithead?” Hoshika’s taunting laugh filled the cart as she charged forward.
Chiaki pulled the blade and twisted to face the burning Hashishin. Both arms extended back to swing forward to only end up severed. He wasn’t able to reconnect it back in time due to his Spiritual Brutality declining, and was unable to form ice against the scorching flames. Chiaki left with one choice: flee from his potential death. They managed to construct an ice pillar under him to elevate him out of the passenger car, being met eye to eye with Atsushi nearing his strike from the side. He ended up crashing his axe into the ice pillar before crumbling. Chiaki lunged and darted to the other side of the train.
“He’s getting away!” Atsushi shouted, just as the rest of the Hashishins got on top.The villain thawed his own iced arm, revealing a grenade from where his wrist was cut clean.
“Those spherical objects in his arm… Were they grenades?” Hashimoto pondered, realizing that back when Chiaki got a katana to fight Hashimoto, he lodged the grenades into his frosted arm while it was being reformed. Chiaki dislodged the grenade before pulling the pin off and tossed it to where the railway coupler was located. An explosion rumbled throughout the train as it disconnected the last three carriages.
“Quickly get to the other side!” Hashimoto yelled, signaling everyone to exhaust themselves to get back on the moving vehicle. Icicles swooshed past them before the tips of it dug into the lost carriages. Hashimoto’s eyes widened as he realized each icicle had a grenade’s pin through it. As the icicles pummeled into the surroundings, the pins were dislocated, and the grenades began to go off. He had no time to react. The explosions detonated, quaking the train and the environment as it left an enormous sized cloud of smoke that slowly drifted up to the atmosphere.