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Summary
"He didn’t merely dislike spring. He loathed it. He hated it with every tainted, black stained fiber of his being. Spring always reigned as the dark king, deceiving the world with its luscious, pinky white beauty, charming the denizens of Tokyo with frothing, cloud-like blossoms of cherry trees, fresh clean air, and promises of new changes. Every year, it seemed like spring tried to go to extreme lengths to make the next spring better than the last in everyone’s memories.
Souma knew better. Spring didn’t change at all. Not for him, at least. He could clearly see past the flowery facade spring always displayed. Nothing had changed since his tumultuous birth, and as far as he was concerned, nothing ever will."
Souma's first encounters with Masataka from Souma's point of view, before he hurts him.