Chapter Text
Riddle was expecting a conversation with his mother when he returned. A stern one that would leave him in trouble, where he'd have to deal with her reprimanding and whatever punishment she saw fit.
He didn't expect to meet the rabbit beastman his mother grew fond of - how come she hadn't told him about this new partner in their monthly check ins? - he wasn't what he expected his mother to be into. Not that he thought of his mother or her dating life! It's an awkward thought for many people, he thinks.
The disappointment that settles in his chest turns to anger, which he unjustly takes out on the man. It makes him feel worse when the rabbit apologizes on his behalf, telling his mom how children no matter what age may feel betrayed if a parent returns to dating.
His mother was quick to inform him of having a soon to be younger sister - it was then he realized the ring on her finger, the betrayal sinking deeper with the knowledge they'd been together long enough to further their relationship.
He finally got the chance to talk with his mother, in between the typical study sessions he works on while home. It goes as well as he had expected it to, she cries about how hard it had been to take care of him once his father left - that she only wanted the best for him - that she did everything she could so he'd reach his potential.
It was the same day he'd met his stepsister, she had seen his mother crying and hopped into her arms for a hug, whispering reassuring words that she had to have learned from her own parents. He didn't expect for his mother to give affection so easily, he'd worked himself so hard for words of praise and at the most a pat on the head.
He feels stupid for letting this jealousy cloud his vision, tuning the girl out when she attempts to start a conversation. His heart aches each time she sits beside him - his learned behaviors leaving him to work on the winter break homework, while hers lets her play pretend even while ignored.
His mother and the man live together now, he'd been in the process of moving in on the first day of break. He can't walk past or exist around the other without him trying to start conversation, calling him ‘sport’ and ‘kid’ with a tone of affection he'd never had directed his way before. He doesn't want the man to hate him, but he can't bring himself to like him either.
He'd been near his breaking point the whole day, but then dinner came and after it dessert. He knows his mother hates sugar and anything sweet, he'd gotten in trouble for it so long ago and barely had gotten used to being allowed to eat freely at school. Watching her push a slice of cake to his stepsister was the straw that broke his back. He excused himself quietly, trying to make it to his room before they could see him cry.
She had no rules to follow, nothing to study. She could eat all she wanted, play as long as the sun was in the sky. She'd been able to hug his mother in a way he'd only be able to once earned, and who knows how much more she got from the woman while he was away?
He can't help but think it's unfair. He'd worked himself to the bone believing that rules and good grades was all he needed for a good life, because it's what she built him up to believe. His face is buried beneath his pillow, he knows logically he doesn't have to be quiet, but he doesn't want to risk anyone seeing him.
“Riddle-nii”
He can feel the girl climb her way onto his bed. He breathes from his mouth so she wouldn't pick up on his sniffles.
She picks up the pillow, looking down at him with a frown, “why are you crying?”
“because I want to! give me back my pillow”
“Papa says after crying you need ice cream” she hops down, keeping his pillow hostage, “come!”
He sighs, knowing she'd most likely just drag him out of bed anyway, so he follows. She sits him down at her table - it's meant for five year olds, and the top is drawn on with marker and crayon, how mother allowed such disorder is astonishing.
She comes back with two bowls, each topped with sprinkles and whipped cream, who knew his own mother would allow such items into the house? She sits across from him, kicking her feet as she eats. Her smile grows as he starts to eat as well.
“I'm Seraphina, Papa said you didn't hear me last time ‘cause you were studying”
“mhm…” He sighs, “don't you have homework?”
She shakes her head, “papa said breaks aren't for homework”
“You're home schooled?”
She blinks, “huh?”
“you don't go to an elementary school?”
“I do! But papa is the teacher”
“hm…” He continues to eat as he goes quiet.
Though the silence is filled rather quickly, Seraphina doesn't seem to like the quiet - she mostly talks about the kids in the neighborhood, about how she rolled down a hill in a tire and hadn't told her father.
He realizes as she talks that even with all her freedoms, she never went to her father when hurt, that she is usually the last one outside even once the sun hits the horizon. She appreciated his mother's rules because for her, her father never gave her any to follow.
He'd been too rash in his judgment, maybe this match really could help his mother grow lenient. Like how Ace's carefree nature helped him.