The Yakuza's flower

Ending the cycle

Ume's pov

The door clicked shut behind me.

As I was walking away down the hallway
I nearly collided with someone.

A woman.

her dark coat brushing the floor like a shadow. Her eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made my pulse stumble.

For a second, I couldn't place her—just a face in the crowd, except... no.

I had seen her once before. The day Hanayama ended things with me. She'd been there.

"You," I breathed.

She looked at me with a strange mix of guilt and nerves, like she hadn't expected me to recognize her.

I straightened, unsettled. "Do I... know you?"

"Not like you should," she murmured, her gaze flicking toward the hallway where hanayamas room was, then back to me. "But I know you. I've known since the moment I saw his eyes follow you instead of me."

Her words slid into me like a knife I didn't see coming.

My throat went dry. "What are you talking about?"

"Ume!"

I turned at the sound of my name—Kizaki was sprinting down the hall, his face tight.

Before I could react, he shoved the woman back, placing himself between us.

"Don't talk to her sayaka," he snapped at the woman.

I froze, confusion twisting in my chest.

Then my eyes dropped—
and I saw it.

The glint of steel in the woman's hand.

A knife.

My stomach lurched. How had I missed it?

Her grip was steady, her expression unreadable—calm, almost detached. Like the blade belonged there, like it was an extension of her hand.

I didn't think. I moved.

I shoved Kizaki out of the way and caught her first swing of the knife.

She landed a cut on my wrist... I started bleeding...

We both stopped moving for a moment as we processed what had just happened.

Eventually I saw her start moving again and readying herself for another swing.

"I'm going to kill you!" She growled

I moved quickly and managed to grab both of her wrists , my fingers locking down like iron.

She yelped—sharp and startled—and the knife clattered to the floor.

I kicked the knife away.

"Kizaki!!! Go get the police!" I yelled at him as I kept my focus on her.

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I saw it—fear.

She twisted, tried to wrench free, but it was useless. I was stronger. My grip only tightened as she struggled, panic flashing across her face.

Then
tears.

They welled up sudden and hot, spilling down her cheeks as her body sagged against my hold. Her fight drained out of her like water from a broken cup.

"I can't—" her voice cracked, choked. "I can't beat you... just like I couldn't beat him."

I froze, heart hammering.