This volume really hurts in the best way.
At the surface, it seems like we’re dealing with grief, romance, and guilt — but Haru’s Curse digs so much deeper. It forces you to sit with the idea that sometimes love, especially between siblings, can be possessive, bitter, and twisted. And in this case, it’s exactly that. Haru couldn’t imagine a world where Natsumi lived without her — not romantically, but emotionally. Her death wasn’t an end. It was her final grip on her sister’s life.
We start the manga thinking Natsumi is the emotionally unstable one, but as this volume unfolds, we realize it’s Haru who never let go — who wouldn’t even let death part them. That line? About Haru wanting her sister to die with her? It’s horrifying, but heartbreakingly human in its warped logic.
And yet, Konishi doesn’t romanticize that pain. The gloom, the grief, the unspoken things — all of it is portrayed with nuance, not fetish. Dysfunction is rendered with so much honesty here, you can’t help but see yourself or someone you know in it.
Natsumi? Easily on my favorite female protagonists list. The way she navigates this emotional minefield — from being haunted by her sister’s expectations, to slowly reclaiming the right to her own choices — I was rooting for her the entire time. She is flawed, complex, and unapologetically real.
Togo on the other hand… still a boring character on his own. Without Natsumi, he feels like he’d just keep the family legacy rolling, treating women as tools for lineage. But with Natsumi? He starts to feel things. He starts to change. And even if he’s still not the most compelling, it’s their dynamic that keeps me invested.
That ambiguous ending? I loved it. No clear “you’re cursed” or “you’re forgiven.” Just life moving forward in its quiet, uneasy, but healing way. And honestly? That felt more real than any dramatic conclusion could’ve.
Also… let’s be honest — I judged this manga by its cover. I thought it’d be another overwrought, goomy angst-fest, but instead I got an aching exploration of co-dependency, grief, and the uneven path to self-worth.