It was dark.
Again.
But... But she could see.
Again.
She drifted through an abyss of swirling blackness, body at once heavy and light as a feather.
There was a patch of light up ahead... Not bright light, but muted grays, shifting and pulsing. It grew larger and larger, drawing closer and closer until it enveloped her.
Then there was a voice.
"Happy eighth birthday, Riddle my darling~"
It was a woman's voice, posh and proper, but almost cooing, with a sugary-sweet cadence.
The surroundings swirled into view, like ink dropped in water. It was an office, or a study-- a large, expensive-looking one, all thick plush carpet and shining dark wood.
It was all gray, though... Darker and more indistinct than the crisp, monochrome dreams she'd been having lately.
"This year's birthday cake is a special, low-sugar recipe! It's made with lecithin-rich soy flour and lots and lots of tasty nuts, to improve your cerebral function and make you even smarter!"
There was the clink of a ceramic plate on a varnished wooden table.
She could see the silhouette of a woman now, too-- a moving silhouette.
The figure had about as much detail as your average shadow puppet... She looked to be a bit on the curvy side, though. Her hair was in some kind of twist or chignon at the nape of her neck. There were curly strands on either side of her face, and twin cowlicks or ahoge stuck up from her bangs, falling in a heart shape. She could see a hint of the outline of leg-of-mutton sleeves and a long, form-fitting skirt with a peplum.
Kat blinked.
Suddenly, she was standing in the room, not just 'seeing' it in that strange, omnipresent dream-way.
She looked down at herself, seeing that she was the only thing in color. She was still in the school uniform-- and it didn't look as beat-up and dirty as it probably was when she-- she...
Passed out?
Was this a dream?
Raising her head, she looked around. The room literally melted into shadows at the corner, like this was some tiny bubble of reality in an otherwise endless void. She was standing by a long, shiny wooden table, set with matching, expensive-looking chairs.
The woman was a lot shorter than her-- probably five-two or so. She was still completely swathed in black, like a character in a video game that hadn't been unlocked yet.
"Thank you, Mama," another voice said-- a child's voice. "B-But..."
Kat blinked again, turning.
There was a child sitting on one of the chairs... A small boy. He was dressed in the standard 'little anime fancyboy' number. Tweed shorts, a button-down shirt and a small ribbon bowtie... The usual Angus Macdonald or Conan Edogawa look, but without the jacket or sweater vest.
He was the only thing, besides her, that was clearly visible, even though he was still in grayscale. But-- the heart-shaped strands sticking up from the bangs, those big, angled eyes...
It was Riddle.
...Oh, god, he was so fucking cute. Like, super super cute.
His eyes were even bigger now-- or, then, since he was obviously way, way younger. His cheeks were so round, and those eyelashes... Jesus Christ, did they have to trim them so they didn't droop into his eyeballs, like her dad used to have to do with her brother?
He was also super small... His chin barely even cleared the top of the table, even though he was already sitting on two extra cushions.
The smaller Riddle fidgeted shyly with his hands, looking down at his lap. His cheeks darkened as he blushed. "...Even if it is just once, I'd really like to try one of those-- those tarts... The ones with all the pretty red strawberries all over them..."
The woman's silhouette gasped, drawing back and putting a hand delicately to her chest in a well-mannered display of shock. "What on earth are you saying?! One of those ghastly, sugary pastries?! Absolutely not! Those things are so unhealthy, I might as well feed you poison! Why, even so much as a single slice would exceed your daily intake of sugar by nearly three hundred percent!"
The little Riddle's head drooped, and he blinked sadly.
The woman's silhouette didn't seem to notice or care. She bustled around the table, and Kat scrambled back, watching her move over to Riddle.
She didn't know whether she'd have just passed right through or not, like some kind of Ghost of Christmas Past thing... And honestly, she didn't want to find out.
The indistinct woman gave Riddle a few idle pats on the head, like he was a mildly annoying, but still endearing, puppy. "Now then-- tonight's dinner will be a lovely tuna sauté, full to bursting with lots of healthy DHA and omega-3 fatty acids! Look forward to it!"
She tilted her head, apparently putting a hand to her chin as she thought. "Hmm... Let me see, now that you're eight, your daily caloric intake should be 600 kilocalories per meal, so... Don't eat any more than one hundred grams."
She patted Riddle's head again. "Alright, dear?"
Riddle nodded sadly, still looking down at his lap. "Yes, Mama..."
The woman continued her bustle to the room's door, pulling it closed behind her with a click. The sound of her footsteps-- probably some kind of smart, high-heeled boot or pump, by the sound of it-- hurried down the hall.
Kat looked back at the tiny Riddle. He'd turned his attention to the rather pathetic-looking sliver of cake in front of him, picking up his utensils morosely.
God-- he looked so sad...
...It's his BIRTHDAY, for fuck's sake. One piece of tart isn't gonna kill him...
Everything in moderation and bla, bla, blah, kids can't live on sweets, but...
I mean, he's a KID!Kids are supposed to eat a lot and burn a fuckton of energy for running aroundand growing and all that stuff...
"I'd... Always longed to try one of those tarts with the bright-red strawberries," Riddle's voice murmured... Current Riddle's voice, that is.
She whirled around.
Riddle-- the Riddle she knew from now-- was standing there, watching his smaller self with a blank, sad expression. He was resplendent in the housewarden's uniform, but still all in black-and-white... But so distinct it looked like Kat could reach out and touch him.
"R-Riddle?!" She spluttered, jumping back.
But he didn't even react, or glance at her at all. Walking forward, he trailed his gloved fingertips over the top of the chair's headrest. "I saw them in the window of the local cake shop, whenever we happened to pass by. To me, they seemed to shine brighter than anything else in the world... Like piles of forbidden jewels."
He shook his head, giving a faint, rueful smile.
The scenery started to fade into blackness again, shaking a little bit, and Kat tensed. The light and shadows swirled, rearranging almost instantaneously... The same study-like room, but unless she was mistaken, the light coming in from the windows was a little different. A different time of day, maybe?
The small Riddle was sitting in a different chair, still with the two extra cushions. There were sheafs of paper, a stack of heavy-looking books, and a fancy pen and inkwell on the table. There was another large book open on the table in front of him, and he was reading intently.
A chair pushed back, and the woman's silhouette stood up from the table, clapping her hands briskly. "Alright-- that's enough classical magic for today," she announced.
Walking over to Riddle, she patted his head again. "Be sure to read the first fifty pages of the philosophy of language book referenced in today's magical philosophy texts by tomorrow, understood?"
Riddle nodded, closing the book neatly.
The woman's silhouette stepped back towards the door. "Well then-- you may now have one hour of independent study before your potionology lesson."
"Yes, Mother," the smaller Riddle nodded again. He... Wasn't quite so small now, though. He looked about.. God, with that ultra-powered baby face he had, it was hard to tell, but maybe a year or two older?
Opening the door, the woman-- almost certainly his mother-- looked back at him. "Mother needs to go out and run some errands... I'll be back in one hour, alright?"
With that, she pulled the door closed again.
Kat wasn't sure why, but she hurried across the room, giving the current Riddle still standing there a wide berth.
Reaching the door before his mother's footsteps hurried away, she heard another sound... The click of a lock falling into place, and the removal of a key on the other side of the door.
She... Locked her own kid in? That seems like a bad idea-- just, like, logistically speaking... That's a fire hazard, right? And what if he has to pee or something?
The current Riddle was still standing at the chair his younger self had just occupied. He turned his head, looking over at his slightly-less-young counterpart. He still didn't show any signs of seeing her, or even acknowledging her presence... But he kept speaking anyway.
"Down to the minute, I was studying and studying... Every possible subject, for every possible second. If I didn't understand, then the lesson was extended until I did... For me, this was my daily life. This was... 'Normal'."
Kat looked over at the younger Riddle. He'd gotten up from the chair, taking a book off one of the bookshelves and sitting back down.
He read silently for a while... How long, it was hard to tell. Even though she was pretty lucid, everything was still dreamlike and indistinct... It could've been minutes, or maybe hours.
Then there was a knocking sound.
The younger Riddle blinked, looking up with a small frown.
The knock came again, and this time Kat could pinpoint its source. It was coming from...
"The... Window?" The smaller Riddle asked aloud, tilting his head. He slid down cautiously from the chair, making his way over to one of the diamond-latticed windows.
"Oh-- he heard us!" A slightly muffled voice enthused from the other side of the glass.
Kat looked back and forth from the current Riddle to the younger one, then hurried over to the window as well, bending her knees and squinting slightly to peer out.
"Hey, hey!~ Come outside an' play- with- us!" Another voice, with a familiar singsong lilt to it, called.
The younger Riddle actually stiffened, backing away from the window for a few steps. "Wh-Who are you?" He asked, looking more than a little nervous.
There were two small figures outside the window... Okay, this looked like the ground floor, so that was good, at least.
They were a little taller than the young Riddle, and less distinct, but not completely blacked-out like his mother. For some reason, she couldn't make out their faces, or what they were wearing, clearly... But one of them seemed to have close-cropped, messy hair and glasses. The other one, the one closest to the window, had their hands behind their head. They gave a lazy grin, triangle-shaped ears twitching and long, fluffy tail swishing.
...Oh.
...OH.
Oh, my God.
The baby Che'nya-- god, of COURSE that's who he was, why was she even surprised?-- gave a snickering little giggle.
"MY name is Che'nya," he announced, jabbing a thumb into his own chest. "And HIS name is Trey." With his other hand, he pointed behind him, and the baby Trey waved cheerfully.
"Come on-- let's all play croquet!" The younger Che'nya continued, bobbing up and down as his tail twitched eagerly. "Oh, but it's EVER so much fun! Don't you wanna play, too?~"
The younger Riddle took a few nervous steps back, pulling his arms close to his body. "I... I can't," he mumbled, glancing down at the floor. "This is independent study time... I- I have a lot of homework to do, and I have to read the philosophy of language texts, a-and--"
The younger Che'nya pouted a little. Rather than giving up, though, he tapped his chin thoughtfully with an index finger. "Hmmmm... 'Independent study'? Basically, doesn't that mean that whatever you study, YOU get to decide? Well, my grandpa says that playin's a kind of studying, nya'know?~"
The younger Trey approached, tilting his head. "Just for a little while is okay, you know," he said, smiling. "Come on. Whaddya' say?"
He extended a hand.
The small Riddle drew back a little further, eyes darting from Trey's hand to Che'nya's lazy grin.
Kat realized she was holding her breath. Come on, come on...
Riddle pressed his lips together, brows knitting. Then he approached the window, cautiously extending a hand. "If-- if it's only for a little while, then it's fine..."
He took Trey's hand, swinging his legs over the sill and sliding down. Trey caught him, setting him down on his feet onto the grass. Stepping back, he smiled, adjusting his glasses and looking at the still-fidgeting Riddle. "Hey, by the way-- what's your name?"
Riddle blushed, looking down as he straightened the front of his shirt. "I'm R-Riddle... Riddle Rosehearts."
There was the clack of heels, and the current Riddle approached.
She scurried to the side a little bit, and he stopped at the window. Leaning his elbows on the windowsill, he gazed out at the trio of children with a faint smile.
"Playing with Trey and Che'nya was so much fun," he murmured, blinking those long eyelashes of his slowly. "There were all sorts of things I'd never done... They taught me lots of things, things I didn't know before."
He propped his chin up on a fist, watching the scene unfolding with a small, nostalgic smile. Then he fell silent for a moment, and Kat just watched him.
He looked so peaceful, so-- so happy... This was the first time she'd seen him like this. The whole time she'd known him, even when he seemed happy, there was still a feeling of sternness, or hardness or something...
Here, there was nothing like that. Just a gentle, dreamlike happiness...
Her heart panged a little, and she clutched instinctively at the front of her shirt.
"After that, every day, when Mother was away, I snuck out during independent study time to play with them."
Outside, the scenery started to fade in and out, showing small snippets of action like an old-fashioned slideshow. A small Riddle, kicking a soccer ball clumsily at a makeshift goalpost, guarded by Che'nya. Trey, pulling action figures out of a backpack, vibrating with excitement as he practically shoved them in Riddle's face. Che'nya, dangling upside-down from a tree branch by his knees, then vanishing in a glimmer of sparkles, to the utter astonishment of Trey and Riddle...
Then the scene stopped flickering. Trey, Riddle and Che'nya sat in a small circle on the flagstones in front of the windows. There were a few spiky lumps in the center of the circle between them...
Oh. They were hedgehogs. Live hedgehogs.
The smaller Riddle actually had a couple in his lap. They snuffled happily at his fingers as he scratched them behind the ears.
"HUUUH?!" The younger Che'nya burst out, leaning forward and gaping. "Riddle, mew seriously haven't ever had a strawberry tart?! Not even once??"
"Mm-mmm," Riddle murmured, blushing again and looking down. "Mother says that sugar is as bad as poison, so I mustn't ever put any in my body..."
The younger Trey rubbed the back of his head, looking concerned. "Mmm... Well, I mean, eating too MUCH of it is probably a bad thing, but..."
He frowned, seeming to think for a second. Then he perked up. "Hey-- you know what? My family actually runs a cake shop! We could go try some right now, if you want?"
"Eh?" Riddle's eyes widened, and he leaned forward eagerly. Then he blinked sadly, head drooping a little bit. "Ah, b-but..."
Trey laughed, standing up. "Hey, come on-- it's just one slice! It'll be fine!"
Che'nya giggled as he got to his feet too, picking up two of the remaining hedgehogs in each hand. They curled up obligingly, and he stuck them down the front of his patched overalls. "One slice for YOU, maybe! I could eat a WHOOOOOLE tart all by myself!"
Trey extended his hand to Riddle.
The smaller boy hesitated, then scooped the hedgehogs up, holding them close to his chest in one arm. They didn't seem very distressed, snuffling at the air happily. With his other hand, he took Trey's. The taller boy pulled him upright, leading him towards a small gate in the rose-covered fence.
Laughing and chatting, the young Trey and Che'nya led the nervous, but visibly excited, Riddle out of sight of the window.
Kat watched them go, then glanced over at the other Riddle, still next to her, leaning his elbow on the windowsill.
Nothing seemed to happen for about half a minute. Then, the room, and even the garden outside, started to shake again. She yelped, staggering back as all the surroundings swirled and melted, falling away.
The shaking stopped again, but this time they weren't even in a room, or anywhere that she could give a name. It was just a blank white void, with only a flat, endless floor discernible from the theoretical 'walls' and 'ceiling'.
The window Riddle was leaning on was still there, though... It was hovering stationary in the air, like it had forgotten to fall when the wall had vanished.
Standing up straight again, Riddle turned, gazing at something behind them.
Kat blinked, then turned cautiously. Behind them was another table-- not the shiny dark wood one from the study, either. This one looked like a fairly standard table-and-chairs set from a department store or Ikea or something-- not horrendously cheap, but definitely very... Ordinary. Something any average family would have.
The smaller Riddle was seated at one of the chairs, hands clasped in his lap. He stared, transfixed, at what was on the table in front of him.
It was a simple white plate, with a fork next to it, but on the plate was a large slice of tart. Topped with evenly layered sliced strawberries and coated with gleaming syrup, it glistened enticingly... A mouthwatering shade of ruby red. The fact that everything else besides herself-- even the crust-- was still old-movie gray made the brilliant color stand out even more.
The young Riddle's eyes were wide and sparkling, and his cheeks were flushed as he just stared in amazement at the plate.
"A bright red strawberry tart, on a pure white plate," the current Riddle murmured. He was still gazing at his smaller self, showing no sign of noticing Kat at all. "To me... I doubt any jewel could have ever shone any brighter."
At the table, the small Riddle reached out gingerly. He picked up the fork without taking his eyes off the tart, like he was afraid it was going to vanish.
Slowly, clumsily, he sliced off a small sliver of the tip with the side of the fork.
Then, he scooped it up carefully and raised it to his lips.
And he took a small bite.
His eyes widened, and his cheeks flushed even more as an expression of shocked, incredulous amazement washed over his little face like a tidal wave.
"That first bite was delicious-- it was so sweet," the Riddle next to her continued, still staring at his younger self. "I'd-- I'd never tasted anything half as delicious before, for as long as I'd lived..."
The smaller Riddle finally swallowed his first bite... Almost reluctantly, it seemed. Licking his lips, he stared off into space for a few seconds. Then he lowered his fork, taking another small piece and bringing it reverently to his mouth.
"With every bite, the flavor seemed to wash over me-- it was like I was under a spell," the older Riddle breathed. A faint, dreamy smile drifted around his face, and his eyes were shining almost as much as his younger counterpart. "I tried to savor it more and more..."
Then, the gentle, dreamy expression drained away, so suddenly it actually made Kat's heart jolt.
"...And I completely lost track of the time."
All of a sudden, darkness fell, sweeping over the white void. The small Riddle and the table completely vanished, and the floor under Kat's feet gave way like quicksand. She shrieked as she dropped, flailing blindly in cold, crushing darkness.
Suddenly, she fell hard into a crumpled kneeling position. By pure instinct, she managed to avoid slamming her face directly into the new floor... But her knees and shins were protesting pretty hard about the situation.
Breathing hard, she shook her head, looking around. They were back in the study room again. Riddle-- that is, the Now-Riddle-- showed absolutely no signs of having had the same rough landing as she had. In fact, he was standing still and straight next to her, exactly where he'd been before the lights went out.
There was the sound of a smack, a thump, and a sharp, soft cry, and Kat looked around.
The silhouetted woman was lowering her hand as she took a step back, shoulders visibly heaving.
"I cannot believe this... I simply CANNOT believethis!" Her irate voice huffed. "Not only have you been cutting independent study time, but I find you eating such a PREPOSTEROUS mountain of sugar?!"
The young Riddle was on the floor in a crumpled sitting position, one small hand clasped to his cheek. He gave a small, tearful sniffle, and even from here, she could see that he was trembling.
Something inside Kat bristled. The proverbial hackles rose, and she gritted her teeth, clenching her fists to stop herself from running forward.
Okay, calm down, calm down... This is obviously a memory or dream or something, so even if you DID try to do something, god only knows what might happen... Don't do anything dumb.
But-- but... The big-sister instinct was buzzing angrily inside her chest, practically frothing at the mouth as she yanked back on its leash.
Riddle's mother started pacing up and down, then came to a stop in front of him, planting her fists on her hips. "It was THOSE two who influenced my sweet Riddle into such misbehavior, wasn't it? That's it-- from now on, you must NEVER play with those bad children ever again!"
"I'm-- I'm sorry, Mother!" The small Riddle sobbed, scrubbing at his eye with the back of his fist. "I-- I won't do it again, so please..."
He flinched back as his mother took a step forward.
"SILENCE!" She barked, looming over him. "You've broken the rules, so I'll not hear another word out of you!"
Riddle flinched again, and Kat could hear his mother take a deep, shaky breath. She turned away, taking a few steps towards the window. "I knew it... I knew independent study time was too much freedom for you," she muttered, more to herself than Riddle, it seemed. "I must work even harder to make an even more perfect education regimen for you..."
She didn't even look back as the younger Riddle buried his face in his hands, dissolving into silent, despairing sobs.
Kat tore her eyes away from the scene in front of her, looking back at the older Riddle. He'd wrapped his arms around himself, clutching at the sleeves of his jacket with trembling hands. Despite all that, he still stared at his younger self, eyes burning with emotion.
"I broke the rules," he murmured. "And-- because I broke the rules... The only days of fun I'd ever known were taken from me. The-- the only-- friends I'd ever had were..."
Kat was staring at him so intently that she didn't notice the surroundings melting away again at first. The carpet under her feet vanished like paint in water, and she yelped, staggering back a few steps.
She didn't fall this time, thank fuck... And as she looked around, she saw that they were back in that empty white void again. Except this time, there was nothing else there besides her and Riddle, who was continuing to speak.
"That's why I decided... To never break my mother's rules again." His black-gloved fingers gripped even tighter at his sleeves, and his shoulders were beginning to shake again. "After all-- she was the most intelligent, most accomplished mother in the city... And therefore, the most correct. That-- that much is obvious, right? But..."
He lowered his head, falling silent for a few seconds.
"But-- but... Why, Mama?"
It was said in such a small voice that Kat didn't actually realize it was coming from him at first. It was so thin and wavering-- and his shoulders... No, his whole body was shaking now.
Not in an angry way, either... Before, it was like all the rage had been churning and fizzing inside him like a shaken soda bottle. But this-- this was different... It was a fragile, unsteady kind of shaking... Like his childlike frame was only seconds away from collapsing in on itself in a pile of porcelain shards.
"Why is there this-- this feeling, here in my chest? Why does it hurt so much?"
He gave a kind of half-sob, half-hiccup, shaking his head.
"It's-- it's my birthday, so... Why can't I eat all the tart I want, j-just this once?"
The next one was a real sob, clawing its way painfully out of his throat.
"I... I want to play outside, for as long as I can! I want to-- to make lots and lots, and lots of friends..."
With another sob, he buried his face in his hands, trembling like a leaf.
"Tell me, Mama... What rules do I need to follow... To make this pain go away?"
With one more choking sob, Riddle finally dropped to his knees. The undersized crown fell off his head again, rolling away as he collapsed into an untidy heap, clutching at his face. The sobs just kept coming and coming, one after the other, wracking his small frame like harsh coughs.
Before she'd even realized it, Kat was moving towards him.
She only came to her senses, as it were, when she realized she was dropping to her knees as well. But by that point, it was already too late... All she could really do was continue the motion, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a tight hug.
She noted, mildly surprised, that it actually worked... She hadn't passed through him or anything, and what she was holding seemed pretty damn real.
The cloth shifted and crinkled as it should, and Riddle himself was as solid and warm as anything she'd ever felt before... She could even feel the hot, sticky dampness from his tears as he stiffened, giving a quiet gasp.
Putting one hand on the back of his head, she pushed it gently into the crook of her neck, other arm wrapping tight around his shoulders. "It's okay," she found herself murmuring, low and quiet. "It's okay, it's okay... I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry..."
She started swaying gently, rocking him back and forth. "That wasn't fair. None of it was... That was awful, what she did to you. You were only a kid... You still ARE a kid."
She felt, rather than heard, Riddle give a trembling sniffle, and he clutched at her jacket, fingers twisting into the fabric. Stroking the back of his hair gently, she continued. "She was wrong. She was wrong... It doesn't matter how smart she is, or how successful, or anything like that. She didn't get the right to treat you like that... "
Riddle sniff-sobbed again, shoulders shaking.
"It's okay to cry," Kat murmured, moving her circular strokes from the back of his head to his upper back. "It's okay... It wasn't fair, and it's okay to be upset about that. It's okay to be angry, it's okay to be sad, it's okay to be hurt... It's all okay. None of those feelings you have are wrong, or bad. Just let them all out."
Riddle gave another choking sob, burying his face into her shoulder. He was really, really crying now-- so hard he could barely even catch his breath between heaves. Her jacket was probably getting covered in tears, snot and spit...
But that didn't really matter now.
Besides, she wasn't even sure if any of this was even real...
"It's okay," she continued, speaking soft and low, like she was comforting a scared animal. "It's okay... It's okay. I'm sorry... It's okay."
There was definitely more she could say, more she probably SHOULD say... Like, maybe something about the cycle of abuse, how pain is valid but it doesn't give anyone the right to inflict that same pain on others...
But-- this... Didn't seem like the time.
Had anybody ever said anything like this to him before? When was the last time he'd even gotten a hug?
For now, all she could do was hold the petite boy tightly, murmuring words of apology and comfort as he wept.
She kept speaking softly, stroking his hair and back even as everything around them started to go dark.
Voices were drifting faintly through the gathering darkness, calling urgently. There were two-- no, three... No, four voices, actually.
Three of them seemed to be calling her name, while the last...
"...Dle! Riddle...!"
Somehow, her eyes drifted closed, the feeling of the sobbing boy in her arms starting to fade into indistinct fuzz. It was like she was sinking into a cloud of thick, black wool...
But the voices weren't fading away with everything else. Actually, they were getting louder... And more distinct.
"...Riddle!"
"Kat!!"
Who was calling for her now...?
She knew those voices-- practically yelling over each other, loud and panicked. It was almost a little funny, actually...
"KAT!"
Author's Notes:
When I made my brother read this, the first thing he said was 'where's Riddle's mom I just wanna talk'. He gets it.
(Small semi-related aside, but the Muppets Christmas Carol is the best version and if you disagree you are wrong. Also the Muppets should start doing adaptations again. I want a Muppet LOTR. With the actors from the movies reprising their roles for the characters that don't get Muppeted.)
The manga site I'm using RN literally JUST updated (as of writing these notes) to add the end of the fight and the first part of Riddle's backstory and I'm.
*clutching babby!riddle, che'nya and trey to my chest and sobbing*
For somebody who doesn't want kids, I sure seem to have a lot of aggressively maternal instincts towards small fictional children.
(Also Kat *handshake emoji* Yuuken dealing the finishing blow, even though he did it a lot more directly)
I actually kinda like Riddle's mom's suit and those gloves that are the fancier version of fishnets in it. It's still classy and elegant, but more modern than what I was imagining, since I'd basically just imagined her in a Victorian blouse and skirt. I decided on falling somewhere in the middle of those two extremes for what I think she looks like.
Also, found the translation of the most recent novel part, and according to that, the Heartslabyul gang's face markings ARE actually makeup.
...Doesn't answer my question as to how it stays on during PE and stuff, though.
Also also, poor Yuuya. Ace was so mean to him. And he didn't even get pissed like Kat did, he just... stood there. Ace. For fuck's sake. The poor kid's not having a very good few days. Stop it.
(P.S: Dear Mrs. Rosehearts--)
(It's on sight.)
(Sincerely,)
(The entire TWST fandom.)