Hatakeyama Natsuki Upd Info

Natsuki spun. A boy her age—seventeen, maybe—leaned against a dumpster. He wore an immaculate navy school uniform, not a single crease out of place. His eyes, however, were not human. They were polished obsidian, reflecting the alley’s single flickering light like two dark moons.

She blinked. “No. I’m Hatakeyama Natsuki.” hatakeyama natsuki

The humming from the sardine grew louder. Natsuki looked at it—this ridiculous, luminous fish that had saved her life by killing her a second time. She thought of her grandmother’s stall in the market. The way the old woman would slap a mackerel down on the cutting board and say, “Even a fish knows when to fight the current, Natsuki. The question is: do you?” Natsuki spun

“And who exactly are you?” Natsuki asked. His eyes, however, were not human