Work Text:
Riddle had been working through a particularly difficult problem on his worksheet when he felt it; a warm feeling bloomed outward, pride and wonder and sheer joy swirling together in his chest. Surely the problem in front of him, the one that he had been stuck on for nearly 30 minutes and had nearly brought him to tears over frustration, wasn’t the cause, so…
Ah. Something good must have happened to Ace.
“Mother,” he said quietly, raising his head, “may I have some water, please?”
“You’re not taking this as an opportunity to cheat, I hope,” she replied, disappointment dripping from her words. “You should have solved it by now. I taught you this last week.”
“I won’t, mother. I’m just thirsty.”
She sighed and snapped the book in her hands shut. “Very well. I’ll be back, but I expect you to keep working.”
“Yes, mother.” Riddle ducked his head again, pretending to think until he heard the door shut. As soon as it did, he rolled his sleeves up, touching his pen to skin instead of paper.
You seem very happy today, Ace. Did something happen?
Before he could write more, the door clicked open, and Riddle hurriedly pulled his sleeves back down with his magic as he scribbled in what he hoped was the correct answer to his equation. A glass was set down in front of him, and Riddle put his pen down in favor of grabbing it. His mother took the worksheet as he sipped his water, and before long, she hummed.
“…did I get it right, mother?”
She placed the worksheet back on the desk with a faint nod. “Yes, but you took far too long solving it. Clearly, you’re not yet proficient with this kind of magical analysis, so we are going to review this concept until you can complete these kinds of problems in under five minutes. Understood?”
The mere thought of doing any more worksheets while Ace’s sparks traced letters onto his arm filled him with dread, but he banished that thought as quickly as it had arrived. His mother only wanted him to be successful, after all, and how would he be a world-renowned magical healer if he didn’t?
Whatever Ace was saying would unfortunately have to wait, and Riddle silently resigned himself to a few more hours of complex math problems and analysis so complicated it made his brain hurt. As long as he could talk to Ace in the end, then it was worth it.
“Yes, mother.”
By the time Riddle collapsed into his pillows, he felt entirely sure that his brain had turned to mush in his head, even though he knew it wasn’t anatomically possible. A passing thought told him that it sounded like something Ace would say, and he couldn’t help but smile at that.
Then, almost as if summoned, sparks flew across his arm, and he immediately jolted up, barely stifling a cry when his headache spiked with pain. But Riddle grabbed his pen all the same, and though the conjured light made his eyes sting, it didn’t stop him from rolling his sleeves up to try and find Ace’s words.
You’ll never ever believe it, Riddle! It’s incredible! I have magic now!!! Just like you!
Then, below it: Oh shoot, you must be really busy. My head hurts. Well, we can talk later! I just wanted to tell you! You should’ve seen the look on Lance’s face!
The redhead gasped as he read the words, and grinned as he wrote his reply. Ace, that’s wonderful! I'm so proud of you! He paused before writing next to it, in slightly smaller handwriting. Sorry I made your head hurt. The analysis problems Mother gave me today were really hard.
Ace’s response came immediately on his right forearm. Ugh. If you think it’s hard, then I definitely don’t wanna see it. At that, Riddle couldn’t help but giggle (he knew all too well how much the other complained about schoolwork), but then the sparks started again, and he went silent as he watched the words show up. But thank you!! I can't believe I have magic now! I made a cup fly, Riddle, over and over again! Isn’t that awesome?! I’m just like you!
Get back to me when you can summon dragon fire, silly. Then you’ll really be
Riddle paused mid-sentence. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to write the words down, and he suddenly realized that he didn’t want Ace to end up like him.
How was he supposed to tell Ace that he’d been “just like” him once, until his mother had come and locked away everything she deemed frivolous and he found fun? How long had it been since he’d cast magic simply for the joy of casting, like Ace had, and not for any kind of task or analysis? Since when had casting magic gone from being a wonder to simply being commonplace?
Most importantly, how could he possibly tell Ace that he was afraid? Afraid that Ace’s family would do the same thing Riddle’s had done to him, force him to study and study until he couldn’t bear it, that he’d be suffocated under the pressure of achievements and unique magics? To him, Ace was the brightest, most wonderful person Riddle had ever met (even if he didn’t have many people to compare Ace to), and if being like him stripped Ace of his joy, then he…
He simply wouldn’t know what to do. But Riddle did know one thing for certain— Ace could never, ever be “just like” him. He refused to allow it.
Riddle? Where’d you go? You just stopped suddenly.
The redhead hesitated before he wrote back under it. You don’t want to be like me. Then, hurriedly, as if it could salvage anything, he wrote: You love your magic hate studying.
Huh? Why’d you cross that bit out, now I can’t read it :( Welp, it’s fine! You’re super strong, and I wanna be like that too, so one day, I’m gonna summon fire too!
Riddle didn’t have anything left to say that wasn’t about his own irrational fears. Practice is good. You should do that.
Yeah! I have to, if I’m gonna impress you when we meet for real! I’m gonna knock your socks off, mark my words!
He was basically writing on autopilot now. I've studied a lot of spells, remember? You’re going to have to work very hard if you really want to impress me.
I know! I’ll practice everyday until I meet you, I promise! And then I’ll show you my most amazing spells, and then we’ll practice together!
He couldn’t and wouldn’t mention that he’d probably already learned whatever spell Ace thought was amazing, and that he’d done so years ago. You’d best get started, then.
Of course! Maybe tomorrow, though. I’m sleepy.
Riddle extinguished his light before lifting his head to check the clock, eyes widening when he saw the hands ticking towards 11. You should. It’s rather late.
Okay! Night, Riddle! Love you <3
Just as always, Riddle couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat at the final words. Goodnight, Ace. Sleep well. And congratulations again on your magic.
Thanks! Let’s be the best mages we can, okay?
…okay.