Chapter Text
Riddle was on his way to the cafeteria.
Today had been a hellish day from the moment he'd opened his eyes.
Crowley had somehow found even more paperwork to bury him under, claiming it was "excellent experience for a future leader."
Ace and Deuce had managed to get themselves into trouble not once, not twice, but several times before noon, forcing Riddle to interrupt his own schedule just to keep them from causing even more problems.
On top of that, he'd already collared three students for breaking rules that should have been painfully obvious.
His patience had long since worn thin.
After his overblot, he'd become more reasonable. He knew that. The other students knew that.
He no longer enforced every single one of the Queen's rules with the same merciless strictness he once had, and he'd learned that not every mistake deserved the harshest punishment.
That did not mean rules were optional.
The important ones still existed for a reason, and if Heartslabyul students couldn't even follow those, then what exactly was the point of having standards?
With a tired sigh, Riddle pushed open the cafeteria doors.
Immediately, his eyes landed on the Heartslabyul lunch line.
His expression froze.
Then one eye twitched.
The students stood in a perfectly orderly line.
Their uniforms were neat, backs straight, hands respectfully folded in front of themselves as they waited for lunch to be served.
No one was pushing. No one was speaking loudly. No one had skipped ahead.
To anyone else, it looked like the picture of discipline.
To Riddle...
A blood vessel nearly burst.
He remained standing in the doorway, perfectly still.
How dare they?
Not one student.
Not two.
Every single Heartslabyul student waiting in line was breaking Rule Number One.
Today, of all days, was not the day to test his patience.
His grip tightened around the handle of the cafeteria doors until his knuckles turned white.
His shoulders stiffened, and the air around him seemed to grow heavier with every passing second.
Students from the other dorms slowly noticed the familiar silence spreading through the room, conversations fading into uncertain whispers as they followed everyone's gazes toward the crimson-haired housewarden standing motionless near the entrance.
Nobody dared approach him.
For nearly a minute, nothing happened.
Then one Heartslabyul first-year happened to glance toward the entrance.
The color drained from his face instantly.
"...Housewarden."
His voice came out barely louder than a squeak.
He quickly reached over and tapped the shoulder of the student in front of him.
That student turned around.
Saw Riddle.
Paled.
Without saying anything else, they tapped the next person.
Like dominoes falling one after another, panic spread down the entire line.
Every student turned, froze, and quietly informed the next person.
The orderly chatter that had filled the queue disappeared.
In its place came hurried whispers.
"What rule did we break?"
"Housewarden looks furious..."
"Oh no."
"What happened?"
"I didn't do anything!"
"Was it the uniforms?"
"No, mine's fine!"
"Who forgot something?"
"Whose fault is this!?"
The whispers became increasingly frantic as students desperately searched their memories.
Everyone looked around suspiciously, wondering who had doomed the rest of them.
Riddle simply continued breathing.
Slowly.
Deeply.
He could feel the beginnings of a headache forming.
Finally, one student suddenly gasped.
"I got it!"
The words came out much louder than intended.
Every Heartslabyul student snapped toward them so quickly that the poor student physically flinched beneath dozens of terrified stares.
"I-I think..." they stammered, swallowing nervously. "U-uhm... Rule Number One..."
Nobody interrupted.
"...When standing in place... one must run at top speed..."
Silence.
"...I think."
Several older students blinked.
"...That... actually sounds familiar."
"I remember that."
"Wait."
"Oh."
"Oh no."
Another pause followed as everyone stared at one another.
"...Run?"
One student experimentally began jogging in place.
Nothing happened.
Another student hesitantly copied them.
Then another.
Within seconds, the entire Heartslabyul line erupted into movement.
Students sprinted in place with all the speed they could manage without actually leaving the queue.
Legs pumped furiously against the cafeteria floor while everyone somehow remained in roughly the same position, waiting for lunch as though this were the most normal thing in the world.
The line transformed into absolute chaos.
Shoes pounded against the floor in a constant thunder of footsteps.
Students accidentally elbowed one another while pumping their arms.
Someone nearly lost their balance after another runner clipped their shoulder.
A tray clattered loudly after a second-year stumbled trying to avoid colliding with the student beside them.
Several first-years were already panting.
"This—"
Huff.
"Is—"
Pant.
"So much harder than it sounds!"
"My legs!"
"Keep running!"
"Don't stop!"
"The line's moving!"
The cafeteria workers stared for a long moment before silently continuing to serve food as though Heartslabyul students sprinting in place while ordering lunch was simply another Tuesday.
As each student reached the front of the line, they accepted their tray before immediately slowing to a normal walk.
Rule Number One only applied while remaining standing in one place.
Now that they had been served, they calmly carried their lunches toward empty tables, collapsing into chairs with exhausted sighs while discreetly rubbing sore calves beneath the tables.
The remaining students continued running at full speed while waiting their turn.
Several other dorms watched in complete disbelief.
"...Why are they running?"
"I don't know."
"Did someone challenge them?"
"Is this... exercise?"
"I stopped trying to understand Heartslabyul months ago."
"...Fair."
The conversations throughout the cafeteria slowly returned as students accepted that whatever strange ritual Heartslabyul was performing apparently wasn't dangerous.
Riddle watched the line for another few moments.
Good.
They'd corrected themselves.
The knot of irritation in his chest slowly loosened.
His shoulders relaxed, and the headache threatening to form eased just enough for him to ignore it.
While the rule itself was certainly... unusual... it was still a rule, and seeing his dorm recognize their mistake without him needing to shout or start handing out collars was strangely satisfying.
Perhaps they really were improving.
With one final glance toward the still-running students, Riddle turned away from the line.
He selected an empty table near one of the windows, where sunlight spilled across the polished wood in warm patches.
Setting his homemade food–curtsey of Trey–down with practiced precision, he neatly adjusted the placement of his utensils before taking a seat.
The sounds of pounding footsteps continued in the background for another minute or two as the last of Heartslabyul's students made it through the line.
By the time Riddle picked up his teacup, every member of his dorm had been served.
The running had stopped.
Peace, at last.