A Freezing End.

The Takayaga family — one of the wealthiest in Japan, and my personal hell.

Our patriarch is my father, Ginzo Takayaga. My “loving” father. My mother died long ago… I’m not allowed to mourn her, not even remember her. Father says she was “a bridge to weakness.”

Then there are my four older brothers… and me — Fuyu Takayaga, the youngest. But they don’t call me by my name. They call me “waste,” “garbage,” “trash.”Our family creed is simple: No weakness. No compassion. Only the strongest survives.

When I was five, my mother was still alive — though I wasn’t allowed to see her. Then one day, the news of her death was served at the dinner table.

As we sat, my father spoke:

“Mother is dead. Eat and honor her… the first one to cry will be beaten.”

His cold words and sadistic smile burned into my mind. I didn’t know what to feel. Sadness? No… I had barely seen my mother. But how could he be so fine with it? My brothers were smiling. They all looked at me, waiting.

“Aw… don’t cry, little boy. Are you scared?”

After a few taunts, my eldest brother, Kento Takayaga, grabbed my hair and slammed my face into the table. Pain exploded across my head. Tears welled up instantly.

“Father, Fuyu is being shameful… shall we educate him?”

Kento’s eyes locked with mine — cold, unshaken.

“Good idea, son. Boys, discipline your brother.”

My father sipped his expensive wine as my brothers punched, kicked, and twisted my arms. My screams only made them laugh harder.

That’s the Takayaga way.

By ten, my mind was already twisted. My thoughts were consumed with perfection — academic, physical, anything to be praised, to be better than anyone. I had fallen right into Father’s plan to “make us strong.”

Aggression was normal in this house — especially towards me, “the weakest.” Discipline, they called it. That day in the library was no different… except it was.

I was reading about finance when Kento barged in, knocking my book to the floor.

“HOW CAN YOU BE SO USELESS? Still stuck on this? When I was your age, I was already an investor!”

He grabbed my neck and slammed me against the bookshelf. My vision blurred. My fingers tightened around the pen I was holding… and I stabbed it into his arm — halfway in.

Kento froze, then smiled. That same smile Father wore.

“I’m proud. You’re becoming one of us… This is life, brother. Either you eat, or you get eaten. Survival of the fittest. Isn’t it wonderful?”

At twelve, I was almost like them. At school, we were untouchable — free to bully anyone. Was I enjoying it… or just desperate to be accepted?

Then came the night I became a monster.

Only we knew our true nature. The outside world saw us as perfect: Father, the strong single parent. My brothers, heirs to the empire. And me, the prodigy destined to inherit it all.

One day, a family friend gifted me a puppy. As soon as they left, my brothers’ faces twisted in disgust.

“You’re not keeping this thing, Fuyu. Grow up.”

Father’s hand cracked across my face. He dragged me to the dining hall, my brothers following with the dog.

He sat me down, placing a plate, knife, and fork before me.

“You boys know what to do. Kento, help your brother.”

Father walked upstairs, his eyes like crimson daggers.

Kento’s grin was wide, cruel.

“Time to eat, brother. Eat the dog.”

He set the trembling puppy on the plate, its eyes meeting mine.

“W-What do you mean, brother?” I stammered, my voice shaking.

“EAT IT! Cut its legs, eat it alive! Show you belong in this family!”

He forced the utensils into my hands. I cried, shaking my head.

“No! I won’t—”

The punch came fast. My head spun. Then the snap of bone — Kento breaking the puppy’s leg. Its scream tore through me.

“End it, or I’ll make it worse.”

That night was red. Every bite stripped away what little humanity I had left. Each time I gagged, Kento either hit me or hurt the dog further. By the end, I was forbidden to shower.

I sat on the edge of my bed, blood dripping to the floor. A laugh escaped me as my hands tore at my hair.

“They made me eat the whole thing… HAHAHAHA! Father, I did it! I’m an atrocity now — the fittest! Isn’t this what you wanted?!”

I was no longer human. I was a Takayaga.

Some weeks had passed since that day, and I decided: Let’s see how fit my father really is.It was night, after dinner. I had already been disciplined earlier. Father, as always, was in his main office, tending to his investments on the computer. The manor was quiet, except for the sound of heavy rain hammering against the windows.

I knocked on the door.

“Present yourself,” my father said.

When I stepped inside, his neutral expression quickly twisted into one of disgust.

“What is the waste of this family doing here?”His voice was like a venom I had learned to love — because I knew that enduring this treatment was what would make me stronger.

“Father… how strong are you?” I asked, walking in and leaving the massive, ornate door wide open behind me.

“Oh? Are you questioning my prowess? Such insolence might have your tongue cut off,” he replied, his cold, unshaken gaze piercing like daggers.

I revealed the large kitchen knife I was holding.“Then show me, Father… show me how to be strong like you.”My lips curved into a smile, my eyes sharp and alive.

His expression darkened into pure hatred.“What…? WHAT? ARE YOU REALLY TRYING TO SUBDUE THE PATRIARCH OF THIS FAMILY? HOW FOOLISH CAN YOU BE?”He rose from his seat, each step radiating intent to punish.

I lunged at him with the knife, my intention clear — kill, nothing more.But I wasn’t strong enough. His kick landed squarely, and the blade flew from my hand.He grabbed me by the neck; I sank my teeth deep into his hand, but he didn’t even flinch.

“You see… true strength is a mixture of will, vision, training, mindset, and determination. And it’s all about how you use it. I suppose you’ve grown some courage — now let me show you what true strength is.”Blood dripped heavily from his hand as he spoke.

Then, the beating began. His fists crashed into my face, my teeth shattering under the force. Sometimes he smiled; other times, his face twisted into pure rage.

“You have your mother’s eyes. You know what? That irritates me. She was nothing but a burden.”

All I could do was cry, and sometimes laugh — the kind of laughter born from despair and insanity. And he… he did everything he could. Every single thing.

The carpet, once white, was now soaked in deep red. My face no longer looked like mine.

“Now… let’s test that determination of yours. If you survive, maybe I’ll consider the possibility of you being someone in this house.”He admired the destruction he had carved into me like an artist gazing at his masterpiece.

He called my brothers into the room. They smiled, proud to be part of this spectacle. They dragged me toward the kitchen, my blood leaving a trail behind.

“Let’s see if your determination is real.”He set the meat locker to its coldest temperature, stripped me of my clothes, and washed me with icy water from the sink.“I hope you die just like your mother.”

My brothers laughed and celebrated. Then I was tossed into the locker. The cold bit deep into my flesh. My body screamed in pain, but I couldn’t move. I felt filthy.Minutes — or hours — passed before my body began to fail. My mind dimmed. I was freezing to death.

And then… nothing.Everything went black.

So this was it? My life flashed before my eyes. I was weak — not even worth keeping alive.

But suddenly… I didn’t feel cold anymore.A sound… a humming — someone was humming a song.Everything felt… different.

I forced my eyes open.When I did, I realized I wasn’t in the meat locker anymore. Snowflakes drifted down onto me, their touch soft and warm? compared to before.Yet… I still couldn’t move my body.

A figure sat beside me, bathed in a golden glow.

Father? …No.That thing was not human.

She kept humming that same soothing, almost hypnotic melody.

My voice trembled.“Who… are you?”

The figure giggled, her voice soft and feminine.
“Don’t fret, Graced One… for I am here to help you.”
She whispered near me, her hand resting gently on my chest.