𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕡𝕙𝕠𝕟𝕖 - ᵇᶰʰᵃ (formerly "flower petals")

. ｏｒｃｈｉｄ .

An orchid is a symbol of the exotic beauty. It symbolizes refinement, thoughtfulness and mature charm. It's easy to understand why people fall prey to the obsession with orchids. It's difficult to get close to a fresh plant in full bloom and not get smitten by its fascinating and all-too-rare unique looks. Today, more than ever, millions of people are devoted to planting and growing orchids, and the orchid remains a favorite among many as a precious gift to give to loved ones.

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Tuesday, 8:00 a.m. - 6 days before the entrance exams.

To your surprise, you actually woke up early today. Though, quite frankly, you never slept too well on Monday nights - maybe it had something to do with your weekly visits to your father.

Nonetheless you had got up around 5, deciding to just have some fruit for breakfast. Fruit just generally seems to brighten anyone's day - you always though it had something to do with the bright colors. Though let's be honest, you weren't about to spend hours researching why the heck fruit made people happy.

Finishing your bowl of sweet, brightly colored fruits, you shuffled to your room to get dressed.

Normally you'd just through on whatever felt cozy at the moment, but sadly, today wasn't a day to just do whatever you wanted. You had something important to do, and none of your other distant family members would do it for you.

Visiting your numb, unresponsive father.

Your other relatives thought it was useless; no matter how hard anyone tried, he would never say a word.

So what was the point of your visits? You didn't quite know yourself. It felt like a responsibility, as you were the only one who cared for him anymore.

Huffing, you let out a grunt as you threw your out on your bed, before eventually putting it on.

Slipping on a pair of shoes, you grabbed your needed belonging and headed out the door. You checked the time, noting that it was only 9 - still fairly early.

You'd decided just to take the train - you sure as hell weren't walking for 40 minutes to the psychiatric ward.

Your father was perfectly fine. Or, rather, he had been before your mother passed due to unfortunate events. After your mother departed, you slowly started to dull. Rather that you coming home to a smile filled hug, you'd come home to him staring blankly at a picture of your mom.

He practically went insane, claiming your mother had been calling for him to join her; and so he tried to rid of himself in attempts to "reunite" with her.

That's when you decided enough was enough. He needed help, and his behavior wasn't helping you cope at all. So, you took him to the hospital, and from there, they sent him to where he is now.

No matter what you said to him, he wouldn't respond. He wouldn't even look at you, but stare at a picture of your mother that had been placed on the wooden table next to his hospital bed.

Still, you always filled him in on the little things that happened in you life; even if he wouldn't give you attention, you still felt as though a part of him is listening.

Maybe you'd tell him about the bubbly brunette you met, or possibly about the explosive blonde.

Arriving at the entrance of the large building, you stepped in, immediately going to the front desk.

The lady at the front desk recognized you, most likely because you visited every Tuesday without fail. She gave you a knowing look, before quickly typing something into her desktop and handing you a pass.

You gave the woman a small smile, before waking to the right wing of the building.

Honestly, you were quite pleased with your father's room being on the first floor. It made things easier, and you didn't have to walk up 50 flights of stairs only to walk down them in an hour or so.

As you got closer to your father's room, you noticed a male who seemed to be around your age. He stood in front of the door next to your fathers, seemingly burning holes into the doorknob.

His hair immediately caught your eye.

It was rather exotic in your opinion, what with half of it being red, the other half being white.

Walking closer, you made sure to keep your steps light.

You slowly approached the door to your desired room, noticing the male next to you had a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hands; white tulips, to be exact.

You immediately recognized them as flowers of forgiveness, as they symbolized rebirth and renewal of relationships.

His gaze flickered up to you, as he had most likely felt your stare.

Flustered, you sputtered out a quick 'sorry', only to be met with silence. He seemed to only stare at you, before you reluctantly spoke up.

"Uhm .. if you're having trouble, I could set the flowers in their room for you ..!"

You gave him a shaky smile, before finally looking him in the eyes. Almost immediately, you noticed the boy's heterochromatic eyes, as well at the large burn over the left portion of his face; the eye area, to be exact.

He looked at you for a little while longer, his hand visibly tightening on the bouquet of tulips.

The male was notably hesitant, and you didn't really blame him.

Eventually handing the flowers to you, in an almost whispered voice, he let out a small 'please' followed by a 'thank you'.

Your smile only brightened, as you watched the exotically beautiful male walk away.

Opening the door the room that he had been in front of, you glanced at the tag wrapped tightly around the flower stems.

'From: Todoroki Shouto'

Huh, so that was his name. You wouldn't mind seeing him again - he was almost exactly like an orchid.

As you walked in, you noticed a woman with pure, snow white hair laying in the bed; obviously asleep. As not to disturb her, you quietly set the flowers on the bedside table.

Leaving the stranger's room, you then walked into your father's - preparing yourself to see him again.

Sitting in a chair in front of his bed, you quietly looked up at him.

He was still staring at the picture of your mother, completely oblivious to your presence. And so, regardless of him listening to you, you told him about small happenings in your life.

You made sure to tell him about the brunette who walked you home on Sunday, the blonde who kept you company at the café on Monday, and about the bi-colored male you had met on this very Tuesday.