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Natsumi Kuzuryu was a thunderstorm. Natsumi Kuzuryu was anger personified. Natsumi Kuzuryu ran so, so hot. Natsumi Kuzuryu was rough. Natsumi Kuzuryuu was everything and nothing all at once. Natsumi Kuzuryu was a volatile girl.
Growing up in the mafia could never be described as healthy, no matter which way you view it. And so, understandably, Natsumi could never grasp the concept of affection, of chivalry, of kindness. Of love.
For the blonde had been witness to many a crime, each one horrific.
That was until the witness became the victim.
***
Natsumi Kuzuryu had watched, a naive bystander, as a house burnt down. It wasn't just any house, it was one full of memories that would have lived longer than time itself, memories of lives that were cut oh so short. The house was once home to a family, full of compassion and understanding, full of every type of emotion.
They had lost the right to emotions they crossed the Kuzuryu family.
On the day of that tragic event, charred corpses and flesh melting in the searing heat, Natsumi Kuzuryu watched, the strange sensation of tears brimming over her eyes.
That was until she saw it.
A singular red rose, live amidst the chaos and streaks of molten orange. It was beautiful, it was purposeful, it was symbolic.
And so Natsumi Kuzuryu took her first photo.
Rose the colour of blood, the colour of lust, the colour of anger, the colour of love, illuminated by the glow of all-consuming fire.
***
Natsumi Kuzuryu broadens her photography portfolio. Yet each photo consisted of her signature red rose, her muse, her expression.
Natsumi Kuzuryu grows, she grows colder, she grows rougher, she grows more infatuated with her photography.
Her and her brother move up to seperate middle schools, and it's there that Natsumi's fate is sealed, wrapped in many layers of tragedy.
Natsumi Kuzuryu walks down the halls of her new school, heels clacking along scuffed tile, not a care in the world. Natsumi Kuzuryu is strong. Natsumi Kuzuryu is brave.
But that is when she sees her, and her resolve crumbles, because, here in this room, is the most ethereal thing Natsumi has ever seen.
Sato Ai.
And suddenly, Natsumi Kuzuryu is a rose, wilted in weather.
***
Natsumi Kuzuryu doesn't deal with her feelings like a normal person. No, she handles them the only way she knows how. She becomes volatile. Such a volatile girl, they would all say.
She smiles, carefully curated, a smile that held daggers, and she locks on her target.
"Nice to meet 'ya," she spits, that lilting voice of her's, and oh, when violet eyes snap up to meet her own olive green.
Natsumi Kuzuryu is falling, sinking, drowning in an ocean of purple.
The girl bites back, just as sharp as the blonde herself,
"Er, who are you?"
Natsumi's stomach dips, the familiar cloud of anger washing over her, before her voice drops and she leans forward,
"Your worst fucking nightmare."
She's not quite sure what compels her to spout such harsh words, but the girl's reaction is nothing short of perfection. The girl timidly drops her head again, and Natsumi is like a dog with a bone, she's far beyond infatuated.
***
Natsumi Kuzuryu resolves to make this girl's life miserable, biting words whenever the green-haired girl rounds a bend; inconspicuous shoves, light enough to only send the girl sprawling over.
But Sato is stronger than Natsumi could ever dream of being, and she fights back, cold insults and snarky comments.
It's a game of give and take, and Natsumi loves it.
Until she shows up.
Mahiru Koizumi.
***
Natsumi Kuzuryu is sat in the back of the cold classroom, flicking little balls of paper at the green-haired girl in front, listening as the teacher brings in a new girl.
Natsumi watches as Sato's broad shoulders straighten, and she looks over to the girl.
Mahiru Koizumi is nothing to write home about, average features and cropped red hair, but Natsumi can tell Sato sees something within this bland girl.
It's then that Natsumi decides.
Natsumi Kuzuryu hates Mahiru Koizumi more than anything.
***
Natsumi Kuzuryu doesn't remember when it was she first learnt of the Hanahaki disease. She remembered thinking of it as a silly piece of folklore, a warning against unrequited love.
Love.
Not like Natsumi would ever succumb to that feeling.
But when the first petal falls from plush pink lips, Natsumi is all devastation. She pushes it down, because, who ever heard of red tulip petals lodged in their throat?
So, she returns to her school.
Natsumi Kuzuryu watches from behind a bookshelf, dust-coated and reeking of coffee, and she observes the green-haired goddess.
Unusually, Sato sits alone, and Natsumi is struck by the sheer beauty of the girl, though it's unlikely she'd ever admit such things. But, Sato is striking in her perfection.
Unruly waves of green hair, hair that smells of sweet flowers, eyes of the deepest violet, a storm's current, channelling every emotion this girl has ever felt. Each part of her is blissfully gorgeous, and oh-so-touchable, and Natsumi Kuzuryu wants nothing more than to reach out and brush her thumbs across those petal-soft pale lips, fingers trailing down to reveal sharp collarbones and freckled skin.
And it is then that Natsumi feels it, vines crawling up her throat, the acrid taste of flowers, suffocating her with petal after petal on her tongue. She wretches, and two more of those beautiful scarlett tulip petals fall out.
Natsumi Kuzuryu is hallucinating. Natsumi Kuzuryu is making this up.
Most of all, Natsumi Kuzuryu is not in love.
She can't be.
***
Natsumi Kuzuryu pulls herself together, and moves forward, channelling every last conflicting feeling of resentment and unrequited love into her photography.
The result is worth it, and Natsumi has never been prouder of something. Pride is something the blonde girl could never grasp, yet clings onto.
But this, this is beauty personified.
So, she enters the photo in a competition.
***
Natsumi Kuzuryu's photo is displayed within the cramped school hall the next day, and Natsumi slinks around the booths, eyeing up her competition, until she spots Sato, staring incredulously at her artwork.
Part of Natsumi is hopeful.
Hopeful that the green-haired girl will see the depths of the Kuzuryu girl's heart, served on a silver platter for this absolute masterpiece of a girl.
But she doesn't, she just glowers at Natsumi who smirks back,
"Like what you see?"
The innuendo is crude and unnecessary but Sato refuses to pick up on it.
"It's a shame a person with a personality as repulsive as your own could create such a beautiful photo."
"Oh get the fuck over yourself."
And then Sato looks at her with those eyes, and Natsumi coughs, flowers rising, loud enough to catch the other's attention, a furrow in Sato's brow.
Before Sato can console the choking girl, they're announcing the winner of the competition.
"Mahiru Koizumi."
Sato's perfect lips curl into a graceful smile.
This is yet another thing Mahiru Koizumi has stolen.
But before she goes to congratulate her stupid best friend, the freckled girl spares one last glance at the photo.
A tulip and rose, intertwined, in the middle of an empty field, one side of the grass reflecting a beautiful sunrise, the other reflecting thrashing rain and dark clouds. The rose is decaying, stray petals around the floor, tinged with grey and brown.
Natsumi Kuzuryu herself is wilting, clinging onto the hope she sees within Sato.
The picture is more than a photo.
It is a metaphor for the sickness of love.
***
Natsumi Kuzuryu watches months go by, each one filled with days of watching Koizumi and Sato grow closer. Each month filled with longing to be in the red-haired girl's place.
Natsumi hates it, hates this feeling.
So she takes it out on others, most of all Koizumi, especially Koizumi.
Because Natsumi has so much and Koizumi has so little.
But Mahiru Koizumi has everything.
Mahiru Koizumi has Sato.
Five petals fall to the ground.
***
Natsumi Kuzuryu progresses with life, the disease remaining oddly dormant, as she distances herself from the beauty.
Life is looking up, until she spots it.
Mahiru Koizumi kissing Sato Ai, the two lonesome on a park bench.
Mahiru Koizumi making Sato smile broader than the blonde knew was even possible.
Making her Sato laugh.
Natsumi runs, as tears blur in her eyes, and she wretches, feeling as if she's hacking up her lungs. Her throat is coarse with fire and bitterness, and this time, the flowers aren't just tinged with a red hue, they're coated in sopping blood.
***
Natsumi Kuzuryu is sickening, laying in her bed as she vomits flower after flower. The worried face of her brother stares back at her.
"God, lighten the fuck up," she snarks at him and his laugh is weak.
Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu has never been vulnerable, but in this moment, Natsumi notices how feeble he is. She herself is no valiant soldier, just a frail young girl, a shell of the person she once was.
"Please," he begs, tears coating his freckled cheeks, "just get the surgery. I can't- I won't-"
"Let me die?" she fills in, watching as the brother she admires so wholly breaks down.
Pekoyama, the family's long-serving protector, rests a gentle hand on his shoulder. Even she, the woman known for her complete and total neutrality, looks paler. Natsumi wonders how she herself can have such an effect on people.
Natsumi Kuzuryu may be scornful and harsh, but she is also deeply self-aware of each and every one of her flaws.
"Look, there are two more weeks of school and I'll be damned if I let this motherbitching disease take a Kuzuryu down," she chuckles softly, "Hiko, I'll be fine."
The boy resigns.
Natsumi Kuzuryu has always been far to stubborn to refute.
***
Natsumi Kuzuryu returns. Natsumi Kuzuryu graduates. Time heals the disease.
Natsumi Kuzuryu spends the last evening of her middle school life at a party.
Natsumi herself would describe that as the single best night of her miserable life.
The green-eyed girl shows up to the abandoned house, filled with life and shouting and reckless teenagers.
She heaves a sigh of the cold night air, and bursts through the open door.
A few girls rush up to throw their clammy arms around Natsumi's neck, each one of her 'friends' shocked at her social appearance.
It doesn't take long to weave out of the large crowd of pulsing bodies, and soon Natsumi is out in the flower garden, watching as the cool breeze ruffles bulb among grass.
The rose garden is vast and beautiful and suddenly Natsumi is wishing she brought her camera.
The stillness of the night is interrupted when a figure bursts drunkenly through the door. Violet eyes and curly green hair appear in her peripheral vision, and Natsumi is regretting ever thinking the illness had vanished.
Sato stares blankly back at her for a moment, eyelashes fluttering with the stupor of her thoughts.
"Oh."
The only intelligible retort she can come up with.
Natsumi would usually make a snarky comment, but Natsumi Kuzuryu is exhausted.
Natsumi Kuzuryu is so tired of fighting a losing battle against her lovesickness.
"What, no biting remarks? Two weeks sure can change a girl."
"Fuck off, bitch," but Natsumi's heart isn't in it.
"Where's the Kuzuryu I know? That bitchy, heartless, godawful attitude?" there's an unmistakable sadness within the green-haired girl's voice and Natsumi has to remind herself Sato is drunk.
"She's not the fuck here, okay?" Natsumi responds, sipping from the red solo cup between her fingers, before placing it back on the table beside her.
"You're so indifferent now, it's strange."
Natsumi remains silent.
"It's like you think after being the worst person possible, you can take a few weeks off school and return all high and mighty on your goddamn throne," Sato moves towards her, "well guess what? You're not fucking special. You may have the stupid family title but someday that'll all come crashing down, and you'll watch as people, nice people like Koizumi, beat you at every single thing you do."
"Shut up-" Natsumi shouts, because everything she's said, she knows it's true, she knows one day everyone will forget she even existed.
Natsumi Kuzuryu knows no-one will miss her after death.
"I hate you so much," Sato spits and then...
Oh.
Oh.
Oh.
And then Sato's kissing her. And finally, vines leave her throat, and her chest loosens and Natsumi is fleetingly, beautifully free. Because, Sato tastes like spearmint and strawberries and the strong taste of vodka, and her lips are so soft and it's like Natsumi's just been half a person until this day. Natsumi doesn't realise her hands have cupped Sato's face, the skin just as smooth and freckled as Natsumi's always imagined, and Sato's own hands are buried in Natsumi's hair.
But most of all, Sato kisses like she means it, and it's nothing like she saw between her and Koizumi. It's messy and hateful and passionate and yet so, so tender.
But isn't that love?
Then, the violet-eyed girl realises the weight of her actions, and they break apart, and then Sato's gone, running off into the house, running back into Koizumi's arms.
And somehow, the disease doesn't kill her that day, but Natsumi feels like it should.
***
Natsumi Kuzuryu smiles as she watches her brother's face shift. She skims the letter with him, a scouting letter for Hope's Peak, school for the elite.
"I can't believe it," he grins.
She slaps him round the back of the head,
"Shut up."
Natsumi continues to smile. Natsumi wants to frown and cry and beg him not to leave her alone. But Natsumi doesn't. Natsumi just smiles.
Natsumi hates change, she always has and always will. Natsumi realises that her brother will no longer lounge around the house shouting at her on an odd weekend. Even Peko is leaving, retired from the clan to go and accomplish her own dreams at Hope's Peak.
Part of Natsumi is unsure why she isn't talented enough to attend such a school, but she ignores the feeling, because the people whose entire livelihoods have had to revolve around her deserve a break. Besides, Natsumi had the chance to lead the yakuza, but she forfeited that to someone far more special.
Peko and Fuyuhiko deserve the world.
Natsumi deserves to be left behind.
That night, they celebrate, loud festivities, drunken singing, freedom amidst the night, just a small group of them.
Hiko invites a few friends and they dance until they're all laughing in the aftermath of celebration and everyone looks so happy that Natsumi has to leave.
She gets an intense wave of deja vu as she leaves the house, heading out to the old fountain in the courtyard, listening to the sound of rushing water.
"Hello," she looks up to see the neutral face of Pekoyama, "young mistress, is all well?"
"I've told you to call me Natsumi."
"Apologies."
Natsumi knows that the silver-haired girl will never call her by her first name, but it was worth a chance.
"Hey, Peko? Do you think you'll ever tell Hiko how you feel?"
Peko's eyebrows crease, and Natsumi smirks,
"Oh don't act stupid, you guys have been in love since you could walk."
The red-eyed girl sits down, and her thighs are warm against Natsumi's own.
"Young Master is a complicated individual, you know how he struggles with feeling unworthy to the clan. I do not want to heighten his pain by feeling this way."
"You guys are both so fucking stubborn," Natsumi sighs.
"What if he does not return my feelings?"
Natsumi neglects to mention that if he didn't, Peko would be experiencing the same all-consuming disease she has.
"Look, Peko, you're a pretty fucking awesome person. You've served loyally by his side for years, you've never given up on him, you've been there time and time again. Anyone could see you care and anyone, especially Hiko, would be lucky to have you."
Pekoyama looks at her strangely, deep, blood-red eyes piercing through her, and then, tentatively, gently, the silver-haired girl leans forward, and presses her lips to Natsumi's.
Natsumi Kuzuryu is caught off guard in a kiss for the second time that week.
Peko's kiss is soft and sweet, and her lips are chapped and taste of vanilla lip balm. But the kiss isn't right, it's nothing more than a kiss, because Natsumi has glimpsed heaven before and nothing will ever compare.
They break apart and Peko leans back in, but Natsumi swivels her head around.
"Peko," she says, because she can't bare to look at the girl she's known her whole life and see sadness, "you're hurting. You love someone else and so do I."
Natsumi knows her words are harsh...but isn't that normal for her?
"I'm sorry-" comes a sniffle from the other girl.
The blonde stares incredulously at the face of the Kuzuryu servant, who seems to be crying. She puts an arm around Peko, and let's the other girl rest her head on her shoulder.
"I say it 'cause I care, and I know Fuyuhiko does too. And you guys are gonna have three years together at a new school, and you're gonna promise that by the time you come home you'll be practically married, okay?"
Natsumi Kuzuryu is complex because she's kind and because she cares, she cares so much. But no one sees that, except those she loves most.
Maybe one day, that will be Sato.
Peko smiles softly, and Natsumi grins, yanking on her arm,
"Hey c'mon let's dance."
And they all do.
And everything is good for a night.
***
Natsumi Kuzuryu is unaware that on that same night, under the cover of darkness, Pekoyama follows a certain girl home.
A slash of her sword toward the girl's face is blocked by a freckled arm, leaving a long gash along the soft skin.
"Stay away from the Kuzuryu family."
And Sato is left alone in the pitch black night.
***
Natsumi Kuzuryu is alone, completely and utterly desolate. Each day is boring, the same monotonous loop of get out of bed, go to her new, all-girls school, shove a couple of kids, yell a bit, zone out in lessons, get home and sleep. Every day.
It's all made worse by the fact Mahiru Koizumi beat her again, she got into Hope's Peak Academy. For being the Ultimate Photographer.
Natsumi deserved that.
So, she becomes bitter, far more volatile, far more spiteful. Each member of her class despises her and she returns those feelings.
Natsumi Kuzuryu is full of despair.
Most of all, because she misses her brother, her closest friend, even her rival.
And Sato.
Especially Sato.
Because it's always been Sato.
***
Natsumi Kuzuryu isn't sure why her parents agree to send her to Hope's Peak.
The reserve course?
What a joke, she thinks.
But maybe this is fate. Maybe this is a chance to prove her skill. To finally join Pekoyama, to finally be worthy of Fuyuhiko's attention, to finally fit in. To finally have a reason to exist.
So, she moves, she adapts, she begins afresh.
And no disease, no person, no gut-wrenchingly beautiful Sato, nothing, is going to get in her way.
She's a Kuzuryu after all.
***
Natsumi Kuzuryu locks onto Sato Ai across the classroom and suddenly, they world is no longer grayscale. The world is beautiful streaks of all kinds of colours.
And Natsumi feels the vines that left so long ago creep back up, as words die in her throat.
But she's improved. She won't let anything stop her, so she takes a shaky breath and stares at each face of her new class as she speaks,
"I don't know why they tossed me in here with the rest of you dead-end trash fires, but nice to meetcha."
And her gaze lingers on Sato for perhaps a beat too long, a recollection of their first meeting, a prayer that maybe Sato will realise what's right in front of her.
But she doesn't.
Natsumi Kuzuryu wonders if she ever will.
***
Natsumi Kuzuryu leaves the Reserve Course after two months. Not because of her laziness, or temper, or constant bullying.
No.
She lasts two months in the Reserve Course.
She leaves in a bodybag.
Because Natsumi Kuzuryu just pushed and pushed and pushed, and one day the pushing became too much for one to bare.
***
Sato Ai finds the music room quiet. It's her haven, though she may know little about composition, or instruments.
She just exists in there.
She exists away from that cowering pest, Tsumiki. She exists away from the rambunctious mess that is Mioda. She exists away from the worst of the group, the brat, Saionji. She exists away from the undeserving Koizumi.
And most of all, she exists away from Kuzuryu Natsumi.
A girl who, without fail, reappears in her nightmares each day and each night with vivid clarity.
No matter how far she runs, Sato Ai will never escape Kuzuryu Natsumi.
So, when the teasing is renewed and her haven is broken, Sato feels the burning fire that only Natsumi Kuzuryu can set alight. It returns.
And when Natsumi Kuzuryu threatens Mahiru Koizumi, Sato moves. She doesn't kiss those lips like the dearest part of her heart urges her to...
...No, she opts for something more permanent.
Her hands, freckled hands that had once wrapped around beautiful blonde hair, that had been scarred in an attack by someone far too close to this girl, they ring themselves around Natsumi Kuzuryu's neck.
Natsumi Kuzuryu fights, of course she does, she's a Kuzuryu first of all.
But when she feels her body slipping into unconsciousness, Natsumi Kuzuryu does something Sato Ai could never expect.
She smiles.
A smile that tells a thousand stories.
A smile that translates to "I love you".
Because Natsumi Kuzuryu has never been good with words.
Natsumi Kuzuryu coughs, a trickle of blood from her lips. Natsumi Kuzuryu smiles.
Natsumi Kuzuryu stills.
Sato Ai doesn't run like most people would. She moves forward, forever connected to the gravitational force of the Kuzuryu girl.
It's there that Sato sees it.
A tulip petal lodged in Natsumi's smile, coated with blood.
Sato's favourite flower.
.....
She doesn't think about the implications. She sets to work, staging the scene, hiding the cause of death. She uses the missing swimming costume she'd found earlier that day, filling it with rocks before bringing it crashing down on Natsumi Kuzuryu's head.
Blood splatters onto the piano.
Sato Ai can't look. She can't think.
She leaves the room, creating one last loud sound to alert someone else.
Sato Ai leaves the corpse of Natsumi Kuzuryu to bleed through her haven.
***
Sato Ai always thought she'd fight death, battle for every last breath. But when it comes, with olive eyes that should look rugged, and tired and eyes that belong to someone who's lost their sister...Sato sees the person she's longed for in them.
Most would say that Sato Ai died instantly. The truth, however, is that in the minutes that she lies paralysed, waiting for death to take her, she thinks.
Call it near-death clarity, or what you will, but Sato Ai feels relief.
Sato Ai doesn't spend her last moments thinking of Mahiru Koizumi or even her parents. She spends them thinking of Natsumi Kuzuryu.
She realises that Koizumi was only ever a replacement for something she fought so hard to ignore.
Sato Ai dies with a smile, excited to see olive green eyes once more.
Sato Ai is found with a bloody rose petal lodged in her lips. No one can explain how it got there.
No logical explanation as to how Natsumi Kuzuryu's favourite flower ended up in the green-haired girl's mouth.
Natsumi Kuzuryu was a storm.
Sato Ai wanted to dance in it.
In the end, Natsumi Kuzuryu and Sato Ai drowned in it.