Riddle Rosehearts was, in the end, a boy controlled by his mother. Whenever things fell short of perfection, he would have a breakdown, either lashing out in anger or becoming so upset that his eyes welled up with tears, standing still and shaking with a red face. In those moments, you could never tell if he was about to set you on fire or start sobbing.

Out to search for dead aesthetically pleasing bugs in the Heartslabyul gardens, with their abundance of flowers, you spotted Riddle pacing back and forth through the rosebushes, when his shirt caught on a thorn and pulled out a thread, ruining the fabric. It was the breaking point for him. He sniffled and sat down, burying his head in his hands. You had heard from Trey that his mother called. Riddle had only just overblotted a few days ago. What could she have said to him to leave him like this? You skulked closer, hoping to prevent another. You knew Riddle's mother was notoriously strict and controlling, she was judgmental and ridiculed everything.

You offered to show him something you usually didn't show people. Your magic was unique and unheard of, a sort of necromancy or echo magic. You could apply actions and memories onto something that was already dead. You could also call forth spirits for assistance if accepted.

Riddle's interest was piqued when you made your offer. Sniffling and wiping his tears, he watched as you opened the container and showed him the dead bugs. He briefly shot you a repulsed look before you cast the spell, making the creatures flutter to life, or at least appear to. You were applying the action of flying the bugs had done plenty of times onto their lifeless bodies. You even managed to call forth some spirits of the aesthetically pleasing bugs, their semi-translucent and slightly blurry shapes fluttering above both of you.

Riddle seemed entranced, momentarily forgetting his qualms, though still crying as he stared at the display before looking back at you. "I didn't know you could do that..." he croaked, rubbing his tears away.