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Winter had settled over NRC, but the botanical garden still didn’t feel warm in any way that mattered. The glass walls trapped the light instead of softening it, throwing it back in sharp angles that hit your eyes wrong if you looked too long. It was bright, but not comfortable. Just… too much in places, not enough in others
Professor Crewel’s voice sliced through it anyway, clean and sharp.
"Careful with those measurements. If I see even one sloppy attempt, you’ll redo the entire batch."
Glass clinked. Liquid bubbled. Someone whispered and immediately shut up again.
Normal class noise.
Floyd wasn’t supposed to be there.
Which, to him, made it better.
He was draped against the edge of Jade and Riddle’s table like he’d grown there, one leg stretched out far enough to be in the way, the other hooked under him. His chin rested lazily in his palm, eyes half-lidded like he might fall asleep any second.
Jade worked like nothing was wrong.
Riddle did not.
"You are not enrolled in this class" Riddle said, voice tight with restraint. He didn’t even look at Floyd yet. "And you are obstructing my workspace."
Floyd tilted his head slightly, slow, lazy, like a cat that heard something mildly interesting.
"Mhm. I’m supervising."
"You are doing no such thing. You're almost sleeping."
"I am." Floyd insisted, smiling now, just enough to be a problem. "You’re this close to messing that up, Goldfish."
Riddle’s hand paused mid-measurement.
"...If you are attempting to distract me, it will not work."
"It already did.." Floyd hummed.
Riddle clicked his tongue, sharp. "Move your leg."
"No."
"Move it!"
"Nope."
Riddle finally looked at him, eyes narrowing. "I will remove it myself."
Floyd’s grin stretched wider, all teeth now. "You can try."
There was a brief, tense pause.
Jade cleared his throat lightly. "Perhaps we should all focus on the task at hand."
Riddle exhaled sharply through his nose, like he was physically restraining himself from committing violence in the middle of class, and went back to his work.
Floyd stayed exactly where he was.
For a while, it was normal.
Floyd kept up the occasional comment, leaning just a bit too close when Riddle was working, peeking over Jade’s shoulder without actually helping. He tapped the table once, twice, then stopped when Riddle shot him a look that could probably kill weaker men.
He laughed under his breath at that.
Everything was fine.
Until it started not being.
At first, it was just annoying.
His sleeve felt weird.
Floyd tugged at it, frowning slightly. The fabric twisted around his wrist in a way that made him want to rip it off, but he just pulled it straight again, then again when it didn’t fix it.
"Ugh.." he muttered.
Riddle didn’t even glance at him. "Leave if you're bored."
"Mmm, don’t wanna." Floyd said automatically, but there was less energy in it this time.
The rest of his shirt started feeling off too. Heavy. Like it was sitting wrong on his shoulders, pressing down in a way it hadn’t a second ago.
Floyd rolled one shoulder, then the other, trying to shake it off.
Didn’t work.
The noise got worse next.
Not louder. Just… sharper.
Glass clinking made something in his head twitch. Someone scraping a chair across the floor dragged the sound out too long, too thin, like it was stretching through him instead of stopping where it should. It sounded like hell to Floyd's sensivity.
Floyd clicked his tongue again, but this time it wasn’t playful.
"...Annoying."
Riddle, still focused on his work, answered without missing a beat. "Then you may remove yourself from the environment instead of complaining about it."
Floyd didn’t snap back.
Didn’t even make a joke.
He just shifted, more restless now, his foot tapping once, then again, faster before stopping abruptly like the movement itself was getting on his nerves. His fingers curled against the edge of the table, then flattened, then curled again.
Jade glanced at him this time, subtle but deliberate. "Floyd?"
"Mhm?"
"You appear uncomfortable."
"I’m fine."
Too quick. Too flat.
"I doubt that."
Jade watched him for a second longer than usual, then retrned to his work, though his attention didn’t fully leave.
Riddle noticed next.
Not because Floyd said anything.
Because he stopped.
No interruptions. No leaning in. No stupid comments.
Just… quiet.
Riddle’s brow twitched. That was wrong.
He looked up.
Floyd was staring at nothing, his hand still messing with his sleeve like he couldn’t et it to sit right no matter how many times he fixed it. His shoulders were tighter than before, posture not lazy anymore, just… off.
"You are being unusually silent." Riddle said.
No response from floyd, not even a hum.
Riddle frowned deeper. "If this is some sort of attempt to be disruptive-"
Floyd moved.
Too fast for it to be casual.
He pushed himself up from the table, the stool shifting loudly against the floor as it scraped back. A few heads turned at that.
"Where do you think you are going?" Riddle snapped immediately. "You cannot simply wander off in the middle of-"
Floyd didn’t answer.
Didn’t even look at him.
He just walked.
Not toward the door. Not toward anyone.
Just away.
He moved between tables without really seeing them, brushing past people just a bit too close, ignoring the looks he got. The noise followed him, clinging, overlapping, too much of everything at once, and it didn’t drop off fast enough.
His hand came up to his collar, tugging at it harder now. The fabric dragged against his neck and he winced, shoulders hunching slightly as he pulled again like he could just get out of it if he tried hard enough.
Didn’t work.
Didn’t help.
The light felt worse the farther he went, like it was pressing down behind his eyes. He blinked hard, then again, but it didn’t go away.
"...tch."
His breathing was starting to go uneven.
He didn’t slow down.
Didn’t stop until he hit one of the far corners of the garden, tucked behind thicker plants and a narrow path most people ignored. It was quieter there. Not silent, but quieter. Less movement. Less light hitting him from every direction.
It should’ve helped.
It didn’t.
Floyd dropped down onto the edge of a flower bed, not caring what he crushed under him. His elbows hit his knees, hands coming up to his head as his fingers tangled into his hair, gripping tight enough to pull.
His leg bounced once. Twice. Then his whole body followed, rocking forward slightly before he caught himself.
Still too loud, still too bright, still wrong.
His grip tightened, tugging at the black strand of his bangs like it might anchor him to something that wasn’t spinnig.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
By the time class ended, the botanical garden felt… wrong.
Too empty.
All the noise from earlier was gone, but it didn’t leave behind peace, just this hollow quiet that made every small sound stand out too much. The last few students filtered out, chatter fading, footsteps disappearing down the hall until it was just the faint hum of the building and the occasional rustle of leaves.
Riddle stayed.
Of course he did.
Professor Crewel had given him a look, sharp and expectant, and that was that.
"You will ensure everything is returned to its proper place before you leave."
So now Riddle was doing exactly that.
Carefully, precisely, the way it should be done.
He lifted a cauldron from the table, wiped the edge where residue had dried, then carried it over to the storage rack. Set it down. Adjusted it slightly so it aligned with the others.
Order restored.
Another one. Same process.
The routine should have been calming.
Well, it usually was.
But something kept tugging at the back of his mind, irritating and persistent.
Floyd had not returned.
Riddle clicked his tongue under his breath, sharper than necessary.
"He left without permission." he muttered to himself, picking up another piece of equipment. "Unacceptable behavior. Completely undisciplined."
He set the cauldron down harder than intended and the sound echoed.
Riddle stilled.
For a moment, there was nothig. And then there's a sound.
Faint. Muffled. Not part of the usual background.
Riddle frowned.
He listened.
There it was again.
Not words.
Something rougher. Broken up. Like someone trying to breathe through something too tight.
A low, strained noise.
Riddle straightened immediately.
"...Who is still here?"
No answer.
The sound came again, a little louder this time, somewhere deeper in the garden, past the rows of tables and into the narrower paths between thicker plants.
Riddle didn’t hesitate.
He set what he was holding aside and moved, quick, precise steps carrying him down the path. Leaves brushed against his sleeves as he pushed past them, the light dimmer here now that evening had started to settle in.
The sounds got clearer the closer he got.
Not just breathing.
Grunts. Small, pained sounds, like something was being forced out.
Riddle’s pace quickened.
And then he saw him.
Floyd was on the ground.
Curled in on himself on the edge of a flower bed, rocking back and forth in uneven, sharp motions. His hands were clamped over his ears, fingers digging in like he was trying to block something out that wouldn’t stop. His shirt was twisted, half pulled out of place, collar stretched where he’d been tugging at it too hard.
His breathing was a mess.
Too fast, too shallow, breaking between small, strained noises that sounded more like pain than anything else.
For a second, Riddle just… stare.d This was not behavior he could categorize, this was not something with a rule.
"Floyd."
No response.
Not even a twitch that showed he’d heard.
Riddle stepped closer, frowning sharply. "Floyd, this is entirely inappropriate, you cannot simply-"
Floyd jerked violently.
Not away from Riddle exactly. Just… reacting.
A broken sound left him, something between a gasp and a choke, his rocking picking up again, faster, more desperate.
Riddle stopped.
That wasn’t defiance, that was..
Something twisted in his chest, unfamiliar and uncomfortable.
"...Floyd."
Softer this time.
Still nothing.
Riddle hesitated for half a second, then reached out.
The moment his hand brushed Floyd’s arm Floyd recoiled like he’d been burned.
A sharp, panicked movement, his body jerking back, a strangled sound ripping out of him as his hands pressed harder against his ears.
Riddle pulled his hand back immediately.
"...I see."
He forced himself to think.
Loud. Too loud. Floyd had left because of it.
The noise here was quieter, but clearly not enough.
Riddle’s eyes flicked around quickly, searching.
Then he turned and ran. Back to the main area, across the rows of tables, scanning for anything useful. His movements were quick, controlled, but there was urgency there now, threading through every step.
"Think.." he muttered under his breath. "If the issue is auditory… then-"
There.
On one of the side tables. Left behind.
A pair of soundproof earmuffs.
Riddle grabbed them without hesitation and turned back immediately.
Floyd hadn’t moved much.
Still rocking. Still making those strained, broken sounds, his breathing catching in uneven bursts. His fingers were tangled in his hair now instead of fully covering his ears, like he couldn’t decide what to block out anymore.
Riddle approached slower this time.
Careful.
Measured.
"Floyd.." he said, keeping his voice low and steady. "I am going to assist you."
No response.
Riddle crouched down in front of him, keeping just enough distance.
He lifted the earmuffs slightly so Floyd could see them.
"I will place these over your ears. That should reduce the noise."
No reaction. But no recoil either.
Riddle took that as enough.
Slowly, deliberately, he reached forward, there was a flinch. A sharp inhale, but Floyd didn’t pull away this time. Riddle moved carefully, slipping the earmuffs over his head, adjusting them so they sat properly.
The effect wasn’t instant, but it was there at least.
Floyd’s rocking didn’t stop.
But it… stuttered.Slowed. Picked up again, then slowed once more.
His breathing was still uneven, but the sharp edges of it started to dull, the sounds breaking less violently between each inhale.
His hands shifted, not pressing as hard now, fingers gripping the sides of the earmuffs instead.
Riddle stayed exactly where he was.
Didn’t touch him again.
Didn’t crowd him.
Just watched, eyes sharp, taking in every change.
"Better."he said quietly. Not a question.
Floyd’s head dipped forward.
Not quite a nod.
But close enough.
The light outside the glass walls dimmed slowly, the harsh brightness from earlier fading into something softer, something easier on the eyes. Shadows stretched across the garden, swallowing the sharp edges of everything that had felt too much before.
Floyd’s movements kept slowing.
The rocking became smaller. Less frantic. His breathing steadied in pieces, still uneven, still catching sometimes, but no longer breaking apart completely.
Eventually, his hands slipped down.
Not fully.
Just enough that they weren’t clamped against his head anymore.
One of them drifted, unfocused, until it caught on something.
Riddle’s sleeve.
His fingers curled there instinctively, gripping tight.
Riddle froze for the briefest moment.
Then, very carefully, he adjusted.
Just enough so Floyd wouldn’t lose his balance.
He didn’t pull away.
"…Too much.." Floyd mumbled, voice hoarse and small in a way Riddle had never heard before.
Riddle’s expression tightened, but his voice stayed even.
"I am aware."
Floyd’s grip tightened slightly.
"...Didn’t stop."
"Mm.."
"Wanna go home." Floyd mumbled.
It was slurred. Barely there.
Riddle blinked.
Home.
Octavinelle.
Oh ff course.
Riddle straightened slightly, thinking it through. Moving him would be… difficult. Risky, even, if he did it wrong.
But leaving him here was not an option.
"...Very well." Riddle said, quieter than usual. "We will go."
He didn’t stand immediately.
Instead, he carefully shifted his hand closer, slow enough not to startle him, until his fingers hovered near Floyd’s.
"Floyd.." he said, steady. "I am going to take your hand now.. make some noise if it's uncomfortable.."
No response.
Riddle took that as permission.
He slipped his hand into Floyd’s, firm but not tight, giving just enough pressure to be there without forcing anything. Floyd’s grip came back almost instantly, uneven, a little too strong, but not panicked.
Riddle adjusted.
"...Stand," he instructed, softer than the word deserved.
It took a second.
Then another.
Floyd moved.
Slow. Unsteady. Like his body was heavier than usual.
Riddle stayed close, not pulling, just guiding, letting Floyd lean when he needed to. The earmuffs stayed in place, his other hand still hovering near them like he didn’t fully trust they’d stay.
They walked like that, uneven and quiet, out of the botanical garden and into the colder air of the halls.
Riddle didn’t rush.
Didn’t speak unless he had to.
Just kept his pace steady, predictable, something Floyd could follow without thinking too hard.
By the time they reached Octavinelle, the lounge was still open.
Warm light spilled out from inside, along with low conversation and the faint clink of glass. It was controlled, quieter than the chaos from earlier, but still… sound.
Riddle paused just outside for a fraction of a second, glancing at Floyd.
"...We are entering now Floyd." he said, low.
Floyd didn’t answer. But his grip tightened slightly.
Riddle stepped inside.
The shift didn’t go unnoticed.
Jade was the first to see them.
Of course he was.
His gaze flicked over immediately, sharp and assessing, taking in Floyd trailing behind Riddle, hands clasped together, the uneven posture, the earmuffs, the way his hand was clinging too hard.
Jade moved before anything else could happen.
"Floyd?"
He crossed the space quickly, controlled but urgent, crouching slightly in front of him.
Floyd made a small sound at that, something strained, his shoulders tightening again.
Riddle stepped in, just enough.
"Do not crowd him." he said, firm.
Jade paused. "Ah... I see. Yes."
Across the room, Azul finally looked up properly.
His expression shifted from mild annoyance to sharp disapproval in a second.
"Floyd," Azul said, voice edged. "What is the meaning of this? You disappear in the middle of the day, return in such a state, and now you are-"
Floyd flinched.
It was small.
But it was enough.
A thin, strained sound slipped out of him, barely contained, his jaw tightening as his teeth pressed together with an audible grind.
Azul stopped mid-sentence.
His eyes dropped.
To the earmuffs.
To the way Floyd was holding himself together.
Understanding clicked in, a beat too late.
"...Ah."
The sharpness drained from his tone immediately.
"I see" Azul said again, quieer, more measured. "My mistake."
Jade had already moved closer again, slower this time.
"Floyd" he said, gentle in a way he rarely was. "You’re home now."
Floyd didn’t answer.
But his grip on Riddle shifted, like he was aware of the change.
Jade’s gaze flicked to Riddle.
"...You brought him here. Thank you."
Riddle straightened slightly, still not letting go.
"Obviously.." he said. "He requested it."
Jade didn’t waste time after that.
He rose smoothly, gesturing lightly.
"I believe it would be best if we moved somewhere much quieter."
Riddle nodded once. "Agreed."
The walk to their room was quite short.
Floyd’s steps dragged more now, exhaustion settling in where the panic had been.
Jade led, opening the door without noise, stepping aside to let them in first.
The room was dim, calm, familiar.
Safe.
Floyd’s grip loosened just slightly as they entered.
Not exactly gone. Just… less desperate.
Jade turned to Riddle.
"You may stay Riddle-san." he said simply. "As long as necessary."
Riddle blinked, caught off guard for half a second.
"...That will not be required."
Jade’s expression didn’t change.
"Mm. And yet, I suspect you will."
A pause.
Riddle clicked his tongue, quieter than usual.
"...I will remain until he is stable."
Jade inclined his head slightly, satisfied with that answer, and stepped back.
"I shall ensure no one disturbs you."
He closed the door behind him.
Silence settled, real silence this time.
Floyd swayed slightly where he stood.
Riddle didn’t wait.
"Sit.." he instructed, guiding him toward the bed.
Floyd dropped onto it more than sat, the motion heavy and uncoordinated.
Riddle moved with him, adjusting without thinking now, helping him settle without forcing anything.
The earmuffs stayed on.
Floyd’s hand found his sleeve again.
"Better..?" Riddle asked.
"..Yeah. Thank you Golfishie" Floyd whispered
Slowly, Floyd managed to lay down on his bed, head on his pillow and staring up at Riddle. "C'mere."
"Huh..? Floyd- what." Riddle didn't even have time to process before he was pushed in an embrace by Floyd. Laying on his side.
"Floyd!" Riddle whisper-shouted.
Floyd just giggled a bit before tucking Riddle's head under his chin and relaxing to fall asleep.
Riddle was left stunned for a moment, before he just decided: "Ah.. to hell with discipline.." before relaxing too.
Both fell asleep hugging each other.