Chapter Text
Routine is important.
Routine is waking up at exactly seven and preparing himself in fifteen minutes. Routine is arriving at the cafeteria at seven and a half and getting a light breakfast consists of a Danish, an apple, and a cup of coffee with two sugars. Routine is going to class at seven fifty-five and having a normal conversation with Jade about the unbirthday party and the lounge before their professor stepping in the classroom at eight sharp. Routine is the rest of his day passing by without much trouble if he's lucky or spending it cleaning up whatever the mess Ace and Deuce leave in their wake.
Or those are what his now normal routine is.
Routine was getting woken up at six because sleeping was just a waste of time. Routine was two bland pieces of toast and a glass of sugar-free milk because milk was good for growing boy. Routine was repeating a whole book of rules and not a single mistake allowed while his mother watched on with judgment in her eyes and a frown on her lips. Routine was Trey and Chenya playing and talking with him through his windows, the sky outside so blue and the grass so green and the sun so bright it burned his eyes, painfully beautiful and achingly out of reach.
Routine isn't waking up on a Sunday morning with his head on the open textbook. Routine isn't the discomfort in his neck and back and shoulders. Routine isn't walking down the deserted corridor at eight fifteen, unsteady feet and blurry eyes and tired and irritated. Routine isn't the familiar judgmental gaze that keeps appearing in his mind and haunting his dreams.
The library seems to be empty, as expected. Riddle gives a heavy sigh, then a deep breath in. Then another in and out. And another in and out. It's quiet here. Eerily quiet. The kind of silence that is loud and lifeless ringing in your ears, and he can't help thinking of his room at home.
Heaving one last sigh, Riddle takes careful steps to the far corner of the library, looking for a warm and comfortable seat. Preferably near some windows, with sunlight and wind and trees outsi-
...only to stop short at the sight of another student sitting at the exact table he was looking for.
Floyd is many things, Riddle has always known. He is weird. He is loud. He is annoying. He is capricious. He is strong, both physically and mentally. He is a bundle of joy and nuisance and energy packed in a body of one hundred and ninety one centimeters. And he is anything but quiet and gentle, as far as Riddle knows.
But the seemingly sleeping boy before him looks nothing like he usually is, Riddle notes. With a thick open book under his large hand, expression soft and relaxed and vulnerable, Floyd is...strangely serene, somehow, poetically fetching even, teal colored hair sparkling in the crispy light just likes the ocean on a sunny day, his sun-kissed face looks warm, all pale and smooth and so, so young.
Floyd is sensitive, Jade once said to you, with that rare genuine smile on his lips, He's more gentle than he lets on.
Riddle thought Jade was crazy back then.
He asks himself if he's the crazy one now.
"You're gonna tire your short legs out if you keep standing there like that, Kingyo-chan." Floyd's voice is calm. Low. With a touch of amusement in it. Lilting and echoing through every bookshelf, every corner of the quiet library, and Riddle wonders if it's natural for every merfolk to have a voice like that, too, or it's just Floyd himself. He doesn't sound like he's going to relentlessly tease Riddle as he always does.
Also, he's very much awake, despite his closed eyes.
"How many times have I told you not to call me by that ridiculous nickname?"
"But Kingyo-chan is so red. So Kingyo-chan is Kingyo-chan." Riddle just huffs and pulls the chair out to sit opposite Floyd, putting his own books and notes on the table. Weirdly, he doesn't feel so bothered by Floyd this time.
And weirdly, Floyd just lets him be. The boy simply chuckles, a light and breathy sound, starts to tap his fingers on the thick book, and a melody Riddle has never heard of before follows right after.
Ten minutes in, and Riddle finds himself unable to focus on his work. The words keep dancing before his eyes. He can feel the beginning of a headache. The rustic scent of wood and old books. The golden light streaming through the windows. Floyd's sweet and distracted humming. All of them make Riddle want to give in and close his tired eyes. But he cannot. Won't allow himself to.
Riddle cannot. Not when her reprimand still imprints in his mind. Not until he is perfect. Not when his grade isn't a solid one hundred. Not when he isn't enou-
"You look like a dead goldfish." He looks up, and locks eyes with Floyd's mismatched ones. Being Jade's classmate, Riddle knows how intense his gaze can be, even more so with his slanted eyes. Being under Jade's gaze means being pried, being picked apart, and being paranoid about your deepest secret getting revealed. Riddle won't be surprised if Floyd's gaze has that same intensity, too.
What Riddle hasn't expected, is being effortlessly transparent under Floyd's eyes. Droopy. Gentle. Unassuming. Golden and olive. Knowing.
"Thanks for the notice. I'm not aware at all."
"At least three sleepless nights."
"...And how did you come to that conclusion?"
"Jade has the same bags as yours whenever he spends all night reading his stupid mushroom book." Floyd shrugs. "Azul too, sometimes. When he can't find the missing madol from our revenue."
Isn't it just so fantastic? Being called out by Floyd of all people. And he just has to be spot on, too. Four nights, to be exact, but Floyd doesn't need to know about this.
"Who knew Kingyo-chan could be so slackened off~" Riddle scoffs.
"Staying up late to study is not slackened off."
"No. But you have a routine and you follow it. At least eight hours of sleep a day, preferably from eleven to seven."
"And how do you know that?" At this, Floyd stares at him, long and uncomfortable, before blinking, slowly.
"Jade."
...Of course. Why did Riddle even have to ask...
"What for, anyway?"
"The alchemy test next Tuesday. Surely Azul must have reminded you."
"You always rank first. You ranked first last exam, too." The exam that was only two weeks right after his overbl-
"And I would like to keep it that way, thank you very much."
"Azul'd been bitching about it for days."
"Language, Floyd."
"A freaking ninety eight. These all-nighters are kinda overkill, you know."
"Ninety eight is not one hundred."
Not enough. Riddle isn't enough. Never enough. He was never enough then, and he isn't enough now. Not good enough to not get himself overblotted. Not recovering fast enough to get things back to the way they always are as soon as possible. Not capable enough to make his dorm members respect him. He still remembers their harsh words, their desperation, the fear on their faces, when he let himself drown in the inky blackness. Still remembers his mother's disappointment, her cold shoulders, and oh how he longed for a simple head pat, a comforting hand on his shoulder, and a gentle 'It's okay'.
"..."
"Anyway," Riddle clears his throat and, for once in his life, hoping that Floyd's moodiness will kick in right at this moment and that he won't notice his blatant attempt at changing the subject. "Why are you here?"
"I had a migraine." The boy shrugs, and Riddle internally lets out a relieved sigh. But-
"...I don't get it."
"Like I had alchemy on Friday-"
"None of the second year classes has alchemy on Friday."
"Make up one. Got bored on Wednesday. Anyway, Ishidai-sensei wanted us to make carbonization potion, and because I added orthoclas as the last ingredient-"
"There's no orthoclas in making carbonization potion." Riddle interrupts Floyd, his brain already going through each step of the potion making process. "The last ingredient should be fire stone. And-" At that very moment, a lazy grin forms on Floyd's lips, and Riddle can't help cursing his own carelessness.
"So you know."
"..."
"One of the seven forbidden potions, known for its deathly and irreversible effects, as well as the difficulties and required precision to recreate it..." The boy absently turns a page, that smug grin still firmly on his face. "...Yet you just casually read it out off the top of your head as if it's hot chocolate recipe."
"...What are you trying to gain with this?"
"Nothing. It's one of the most advanced potions. Seems to me you have studied more than enough for a mere second year alchemy test." Riddle blinks. And blink again.
More than enough.
Letting out an ungraceful snort, he thinks of Jade's words about Floyd's sensitivity, and maybe, it's okay if he's a little crazy sometimes, too.
"Should I be worried about the high and mighty Kingyo-chan knowing how to permanently carbonize anyone?"
"I would be more worried about you knowing how to do it, too." Floyd just hums, once more paying attention to the book in front of him. Riddle stares at his own notes and textbooks, before setting them aside to search for a mythology book. It's been so long since the last time he read one.
They spend the next ten minutes in comfortable silence.
"...Did you really have that make up class on Friday?"
"Yep."
"What was the true assignment then?"
"An invisible potion."
"...There's no orthoclas in invisible potion."
"I know. I got bored halfway." Riddle snorts again. Typical Floyd. "Wanted to make moonstone."
"Moonstone can't be made artificially. Its percentage purity is too high for humans to perfectly recreate it."
"Dunno about that. It shone a really bright and pretty blue when Ishidai-sensei checked."
"At least ninety-seven percent?! How?!"
"Ishidai-sensei asked that too, but I forgot the steps." Floyd shrugs again, as if he didn't successfully forge one of the most impossible stones to be recreated just this Friday. "I had a bad migraine right after that, too. So I left."
Riddle shudders. An eccentric genius, Jade said so about his twin. He wonders if Floyd's thought process is too fast for even Floyd himself to grasp.
"What are you reading about?"
"Gargoyles."
You know what? Riddle isn't going to question that.
Routine is important.
Some he likes. Some he hates. Riddle doesn't have to like all of them to follow them all.
But it's nice to create a new routine himself.
Routine now is waking up at eight in the Sunday morning and preparing himself in twenty minutes. Routine now is spending some time with the hedgehogs before going to the library. Routine now is reviewing his works, or simply reading his favorite novel, or anything he feels like doing at the moment. Routine now is sometimes Floyd will be at the library, too, and sometimes he doesn't, and whenever he does, he will either make himself a menace to society and to Riddle in particular, or just be there, losts in his own little world that Riddle will never be able to understand, and either is fine, because that's just how it is when it comes to his strange schoolmate.
Routine now is sometimes, Riddle will visit Mostro Lounge because maybe he kinda misses Floyd's company and maybe the blueberry tart here is really good. Routine now is enjoying some surprisingly pleasant conversations with Azul over a cup of strawberry tea with a teaspoon of honey. Routine now is watching Floyd wreak havoc in his natural habitat, with Jade's laughter and Azul's distress sounds in the background.
Riddle finds himself enjoying every single moment of this new routine of his.
And for now, that is more than enough.