The Yakuza's flower

Everything is fine

Ume's POV

I was staying at Hanayama's after a long day of work.

I didn't want to be alone since I haven't been feeling well.

But he wasn't home yet.

He came home late again.

I was already curled up on his futon, half-asleep in one of his oversized shirts, the blanket tangled around my legs.

I heard the door slide open—quiet footsteps padding across the tatami.

Hanayama didn't say anything at first. Just stood in the doorway.

"You're back late," I murmured, not opening my eyes.

He moved closer. I felt the shift in the air as he crouched beside the futon.

"Didn't mean to wake you," he said quietly.

"You didn't."

I opened my eyes. He was watching me—his brow slightly furrowed, the dark of his shirt making the bruises on his knuckles stand out more than usual.

"You look pale," he said, narrowing his eyes a little. "Again."

"I'm fine."

He didn't look convinced. He reached out and gently brushed my cheek with the back of his fingers, like he was trying to read something just beneath my skin.

"You've been off lately."

"I'm just a little tired," I said.

His eyes flicked to mine. He didn't believe me—but he didn't argue either.

Instead, he stood and moved behind me, pulling the blanket over my shoulders.

Then he lay down beside me—warm, solid, his breathing steady. I pressed my back to his chest and let my eyes close again, but sleep didn't come right away.

Even with his arms around me, something inside still felt... off.

Like my body was trying to tell me something I wasn't ready to hear.

Nauseous. Tired. Just... off.

It wasn't anything major—at least, that's what I kept telling myself. Maybe it was something I ate. Maybe I wasn't getting enough sleep. Maybe it was just stress catching up to me.

I eventually stopped staying too much at hanayama's because I didn't want to stress him.

————

In the little apartment at 4 AM ,

I found myself kneeling in front of the toilet, gripping the rim as another wave of nausea hit, I started to wonder if it was more than that.

This wasn't the first time.

I took deep breaths, trying to steady myself. My forehead rested against my arm as I sat there, waiting to see if my stomach had anything left to give.

Nothing.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and groaned.

Great. Just what I needed.

For the past few days ... maybe weeks, I'd been feeling off. My body felt sluggish, my appetite was all over the place, and smells that normally wouldn't bother me had started making my stomach turn.

And now this.

Maybe I caught a stomach bug.

Maybe I was just run down.

...Or maybe it was something else.

I swallowed and shoved that thought aside.

Whatever this was, I needed it to go away.

Because today was supposed to be a good day.

Kozue and I had plans to hang out, go shopping, and afterward, head to the arena to see Baki. Hanayama said he might be there too, depending on how busy he was.

I wasn't about to let some stupid nausea ruin that.

I pulled myself up, splashed cold water on my face, and stared at my reflection in the mirror.

I looked... fine. Maybe a little pale, but nothing too noticeable.

Shaking off the uneasy feeling still twisting in my gut, I grabbed my toothbrush.

I wasn't going to let this ruin my day.

I got dressed, pulled on a cute jean skirt and an off-the-shoulder top. I even did my makeup to look more alive.

Once I was done, I texted Kozue to meet me at the shopping center.

⸻

"Hey!" she called out cheerfully, throwing her arms around me.

"You look so pretty! What's the occasion?" she asked, smirking as she tilted her head.

I laughed. "Nothing, just felt like dressing up today."

We wandered from store to store, trying on outfits, cracking jokes, killing time.

Kozue was about to graduate soon, so we were on the hunt for some cute looks for her.

After what felt like hours of walking, we finally found an empty bench on a busy street corner to rest our feet.

"Oh man, I could use a drink," Kozue groaned, stretching her arms above her head.

"Same," I said, slumping beside her.

"I think I saw some vending machines down that way," she pointed toward a side street.

"I'll go grab them. You stay here and watch our stuff."

"Okay," I smiled and watched her disappear into the crowd.

I sat back and pulled out my phone, absently scrolling.

A few feet away, I heard a couple speaking in English. Their voices were a little frantic. Lost.

I looked up and met their eyes.

"Hi, I'm so sorry to bother you, but we're lost. Can you tell us where the train station is?" one of them asked. Their accent was thick but clear.

"Oh, no problem." I gave them directions, and their faces lit up with relief.

"Thank you so much!" they said before walking off.

I smiled to myself and looked back at my phone.

Then, I felt it.

A hand.

Firm. Heavy. Resting on my shoulder.

A chill ran down my spine.

I hadn't been expecting it.

I stood up quickly, turning to face whoever had touched me—thinking maybe the couple had come back to double-check directions.

"Did you get lost—?" I started.

Then my breath hitched.

My eyes widened.

No... no... no...

The world around me blurred. The street noise faded into a dull hum.

And then—

His voice Smooth. Familiar. Laced with something that made my skin crawl.

"Hola, florecita." He said to me with a grin.

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