Riddle, Vil: A Family Affair
Riddle’s vignettes are so… interesting?? We can see how he’s trying to take small steps to have more agency. I like to think that, very slowly, he’s coming into his own as a young man, an entity separate from his mother.
It’s nice that Riddle’s Groovy shows him in a fun pose. You’d think that someone as strict as him wouldn’t want to fly abnormally, but you can tell it's a manner that's unique to him. Riddle may be upside down like Floyd is in his own Broomquet Groovy, but you can tell that there is a marked difference between the two. Riddle’s holding bis broom in a much more secure way, which is reflective of his personality, whereas Floyd is much more precarious in his pose. It reflects their personalities well!
And now we wait for Jamil’s Birthday Platinum Jacket SSR… 👀
A Boy in Bloom, and his Flowering Future.
“What do you want to do in the coming year?”
Riddle cleared his throat and stood straight as he provided his reply. He was the model student, interviewee... and, of course, birthday boy. "I would like to expand my culinary knowledge."
Vil arched a perfectly sculpted brow. "Judging by your prompt response, I take it that you studied the interview questions and prepared suitable answers for them in advance. How like you--but what a surprise that you have a goal that isn't related to school. You're infamous for your tenacity in that regard."
"I-I am capable outside of the realm of academics too!" Riddle hastily said with a frown. “… Though I admit I may be lacking in some departments. That is precisely why I would like to dedicate time and energy to strengthening my areas of weakness.”
"Oh, please. You can't possibly be as nightmarish at cooking as..." Vil paused, shuddering, "Lilia is."
The birthday boy paled at the mention of his senior. Lilia, who left kitchens looking like a natural disaster had torn through an active warzone. Lilia, who tossed in everything under the sink and then some. Lilia, who was known across campus for all manner of food borne illnesses and poisonings.
"Surely not!!" Riddle insisted. "I know how to read and follow a recipe! The issue lies in flexibility. Trey is able to make an entire meal just from leftovers, but I wouldn't be able to do the same."
"My, if you're concerned about food waste, couldn't you simply ask Trey to teach you? I'm certain he wouldn't refuse you. That man is too nice for his own good."
"Perhaps that's true. But even so... this is a skill I'd like to learn for myself. I don't want to become overly reliant on others' strength. What I must cultivate first and foremost is my own. To that end, I plan on enrolling in more Master Chef courses during my time at NRC. There are many styles of cooking I've yet to master. For example, Trey prepares meals that are very different from that of my mother."
"Well..." Riddle hesitated. The way he gnawed at his lower lip reminded Vil of an anxious rabbit--a far cry from the self-assured dorm leader he knew Riddle as.
"Mother cooks with nutrition as her priority. She is very health conscious and goes out of her way to ensure that I am eating what I need. When I am studying at home, she brews tea to drink. It's rare that my entire family comes together for a meal, given that we're all busy.
"Meanwhile, Trey's food is... I can't quite put a finger on it, but it's flavorful and fun, yet balanced. The experiences are unique from my time at home. Sometimes it's something warm, hearty, and comforting like hamburger steak. Sometimes it's something hopelessly indulgent and loaded with sugar, like tarts decorated with jewel-like fruits."
"Your eyes are shining." Vil smirked. "You enjoy his cooking that much?"
"I don't understand it myself," Riddle replied, scrunching his brows. "When Trey cooks, people are lured by the smell and gather around the table, wanting to join for the meal. It happened the other day when I was to eat with him and Cater. Ace and Deuce barged in on us, and... well, I suppose it wasn't all bad. We had a delightful conversation over lunch. There's something magical about that."
"There is a different feeling to eating with others than alone," Vil agreed with a slight nod. "My father and I can hardly align our schedules, so it's rare that we can sit down and eat together. Then again, maybe it's that rarity that makes us appreciate those moments all the more."
"That's right. It's a special spell that I realized I can't reproduce. Just memorizing the recipes and recreating them... that alone isn't enough."
"Fufufu, so you want to master that kind of 'magic'. That's surprisingly cute of you."
"N-No, you're mistaken! While it's true that cooking would come in handy for entertaining guests, it'd primarily be for self-sufficiency. After all, it's not as though I can always ask Trey or my mother to cook for me." Riddle shifted from one foot to another. "Someday, I'll have to move out of my dorm as well as my house, and live independently as a fine adult."
"Yes, cooking is an essential skill for that distant future. Have you already started on making those arrangements?"
"Er, not yet. I've been looking into it, but to actually take those first physical steps is... that is, I don't know how my mother would react."
"She sounds very stern from what you've told me of her. However, every mother must let her child go eventually."
"Maybe so, but I have never known my mother to back down from her beliefs. She's... not a woman you want to challenge." Riddle's voice strained at the final word. It was the lightest way he could put it, too afraid to acknowledge the whole truth. "I've tried to get her to hear me out, but..."
"If you can't draw that line in the sand now, then when? It will only make things more difficult for you when you start live alone."
"I'm fully aware of that." He couldn't bring himself to say more.
Vil sighed, bringing a hand to his temple. "... Listen, Riddle. Think of life as a stage, and you as the actor upon it. Worried about how the audience will react to your performance, working tirelessly to hone your craft.
“When the lights dim and the cameras turn off, the staff and the audience leave the theatre. You’ll be left only with your own thoughts. The onlookers may have one impression of you—but when the curtains fall, so long as you are proud of who you are away from the public eye, that, I think, is a sign of true maturity.
“If it’s courage and confidence that you seek, then you must work toward it. Never let your eyes stray from it. Even should the world deprive you of a happy ending, you must claw for it, believing that, someday, it will be yours.”
“Vil-senpai… Is this your way of encouraging me to see my goals through to the very end?”
His upperclassman scoffed. Thin, soft—like a rose petal, almost imperceptible as it passed upon a breeze.
“Think of it what your will. I merely speak from my own experience,” Vil replied. “We are both prideful NRC students at our very cores. Standing strong on our own two feet is something we all desire. That we can one day recognize that dream… It goes for us all.”
“Recognizing a dream, hm?”
How curious. I wondered not too long ago if it was really possible. Now, here I am, taking those first, small baby steps. A world where I can think for myself, live by my own rules… It sounds like a wonderland within my reach.
“… One day,” Riddle whispered to himself. “One day, I’ll be the person I want to be.”
Not the person I’m told to be.
A palm came against his back—a pat from Vil. “Really, I thought the dorm leader of Heartslabyul would know better than to mumble. You’re usually so good at barking at your card soldiers. Do remember to speak up—now, and forevermore.”
“I don’t recall asking for your advice.” Riddle brushed off his touch, stepping forward with his broom at the ready. Still, he chuckled. “… But yes, I will work on gathering my courage so that I may be comfortable leaving the nest. Thank you for your concern, senpai.”
“Ara, what cheek.” Vil tossed his golden locks. “If I’m to share the stage with you, then of course your skills must be on par with mine. Don’t you dare disappoint me, understood?”
“Hmph, when have I ever been the type to fall short of meeting expectations? Observe.”
Riddle confidently mounted his broom, assuming the position he had practiced many times over. There was a diagram of this exact pose in the mountain of textbooks he had in his dorm room. Straddling the handle between the legs, arms straight and steady, one hand gripped over the other, elbows locked.
He could have been the textbook diagram himself.
When Riddle looked up, he saw the vast sky, sunlight spilling across the sea that surrounded the island. Sunset on its way to soon paint the day with darkness.
The sky… It connects many different places and people. The future is stretching out before me, chalk full of possibilities.
Then… I can try, can I? To soar, to break free. Just this once…!!
Riddle’s hold on his broom tightened.
He called forth his magic, letting it pool around him in a shower of scarlet sparkles. The power collected, coalescing as a tingling warmth dancing across his skin, until he at last unleashed it in one burst. Like a cap popped off on a bottle.
Riddle buckled off, propelling into the air in a corkscrew motion. Rose petals fell free from his bouquet, perfuming the summer sky with them.
He stopped spinning, flying forward upside down. The world shifted, shapes and colors rearranging into a new perspective. His head and vision spun, seemingly colliding all of his sense against one another.
A moment or two later, and they had rattled neatly into place.
Riddle looked again, taking it all in. Rich gold dappling the grand spires of Night Raven College, the honeyed aroma of roses, the wind from on high tickling his lashes. The delicious freedom of flying freely.
Who knew it could taste so sweet?
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