My Lie, Your Ring, This Rose| Kamukoma

🥀 Chapter 17 🥀

Weakness or strength? Weakness. An old porcelain doll sitting on a cracked shelf on the side of the room. Abandoned and all alone in a appallingly aged room. Its slumped against the wall that holds no beauty but cobwebs and scratch marks. Its head turned to the side and its arms slumped, its fingers touching the tip of the crooked shelf. The doll held no more importance than the rusty nail poking out of the shelf itself. Its face was delicate and helpless, for its eyes were droopy and a dull amaranth. The small, bitter smile dripping with poison was practically screaming for help, along with its sour pale skin that had small cracks running up the cheeks and stopping at the eyes. On the sides of the face were ember pigtails that were once twirled with love and perfection, but now were loose and scruffy. There was a dull violet camellia falling off the top of its head, its petals dropping and landing on the rough wood underneath the doll. Some withering petals had intertwined itself in its hair and showed no signs of moving. Not only was the doll's face bland and upsetting, but its clothing was too. Its dress was tattered and tarnished. The white lace that was embroidered onto the silky cloth was ripped, with little strings coming out. The dress was a lavender, yet the colour was now fading, making it seem like a grey with a light purple hue. The sleeves looked as if they were once puffy, but now flat as they stuck to the doll's skin. The doll was desperately wailing to be repaired, but its wails could not be heard through the rejected, hollow walls. It was weak and helpless. The poor doll. Strength. The doll is strong and despite being left to fend for its own, its dress is not tattered and its mind is stable. Its droopy eyes are no longer droopy, but awake and attentive. A smile emerged on the doll's skin and it no longer looked like it was on the verge of death. I gulped, I am weak right now. I am that poor doll right now, I may not be abandoned but I do not want anyone worrying about me. If I told anyone about my sickness, they would know that I am not a demon, but an angel. The only people who know that I am an angel are Kirumi and Kiibo. If I told Kirumi about this, she would go out of her mind trying to find a solution. I don't wish to pester her and Kiibo wouldn't know what to do with my sickness. In this case, it is my duty to cure myself...so why does Celeste have to interfere? Nothing ever goes my way, I can sometimes be truly deceived by the world.
"I will not waste time with questions. You heard us last night Celeste, did you not? You clearly know that Nagito is sick, a flower can cure him but he does not need that flower," Izuru stated and turned around, facing me. He shook his head, his hair swinging left and right like a ship in turbulent waters.
"Let us go," Izuru instructed to me while walking away from a smirking Celeste and a troubled me. I sighed and looked at my hands, I was growing paler by the minute. How long have I been here? Not long, only a few days. I bit my lip, this is troubling. I need that flower. I inhaled a shaky breath and shuffled up to Izuru. I glanced down, the blue floor beneath me seemed to be leaving a blue residue on the tip of my shoes. I stopped walking and kneeled down, my hands crept to my shoes and to the liquid. It felt like water and was the same colour as the floor, a Tiffany blue. Izuru stopped walking, most likely sensing that my footsteps had stopped. Without turning around, he sighed.
"I suggest you do not touch the liquid anymore, it can burn your hands," he commented before resuming walking at a slower pace. My eyes widened and shot at my hands. I immediately fished around in my blazer pockets for a tissue. I hummed, I can't find any. Surely, I put some in here. A pain shot up one of my fingers and I gasped in shock. The pain devoured each and everyone of my fingers at a leisurely pace.
"Izuru, what is this?" I yelled, as he was slightly far away from me. Izuru stopped mid track and finally turned around. He beckoned with his hands to come closer. I nodded and quickly complied. I have a feeling in my heart that Izuru is slightly annoyed, but he won't let it show. I am positive that it must be with Celeste, but what if it's with me? Have I annoyed him? I don't recall doing anything annoying, but then yet again I can mess up sometimes. Whether that's with my straightforward words or my blunt actions. I furrowed my eyebrows, I can only hope that his invisible annoyance has nothing to do with me. I walked up to Izuru.
"It stings, but it's not too bad," I insisted and was about to carry on when someone's hands touched mine. I shot my eyes down to see Izuru's hands cupped over mine. A small blush creeped over my cheeks as I looked away. As much as I want to see his hands over mine, or even his face, I feel slightly flustered. The strange tingling sensation went away from my fingers, but the gesture left butterflies in my stomach. Izuru's hands were warm and soft, as if he had been moisturising them for ages.
"Better?" he asked me, I finally looked at him. He had his usual blank expression, but it seemed more happier and softer. I smiled a little and nodded. What had Izuru even done to my hands? I folded my hands in a fist and then released it. Whether it was magic or something else, it did not matter. I shifted my eyes to Izuru's face. His eyes were glimmering with determination. Was it the fact that he was annoyed or was he just determined for me to win this competition making him like this? When we were stopped by Celeste, he was frustrated because we were wasting time, but he is not even competing in this competition. I am. Not only that, but he keeps walking as if he wants to get on with this. I honestly can't tell.