Ronan stood in the corner of the room, his back against the cold wall, watching as Suri’s small frame trembled with grief. The boy knelt beside his mother’s still body, clutching her hand as if holding on would bring her back. His tears flowed freely, a heartbreaking sound that echoed in the quiet room.

Ronan could only watch, his own memories creeping up, tightening around his chest. It felt too familiar, too raw. It was as if time had folded in on itself, and instead of Suri, he was looking at his own younger self—watching his mother fade away, helpless to stop it.

His hands tightened into fists, the feeling of being frozen in place all too real. He had been there before, unable to move, to speak, as his sister had cried for their mother, hoping for something that would never come. Now, here was Suri, living through the same nightmare.

Suri’s sobs grew louder, the reality of the situation crashing down on him. He buried his face in his mother’s side, his small body shaking uncontrollably. Ronan’s heart clenched, but still, he didn’t move. He wanted to do something, say something, but the words wouldn’t come. It was like every part of him had locked up again, just as it had back then.

Gideon, standing by the door, observed them for a moment longer before quietly suggesting, "Let’s give him some space." His voice was gentle, as he motioned for the others to step outside. He placed a reassuring hand on Ronan’s shoulder. When Ronan didn’t budge, he didn’t say anything and just turned and left the room.

Ronan stayed where he was, his mind racing, heart heavy. The room was almost painfully quiet now, save for Suri’s quiet sobs. After being exhausted from crying, he remained by his mother’s bedside, his head resting on her still chest. It was as if he didn’t have any shred of consciousness in his small frame.

Ronan wanted to leave, to walk out and escape the suffocating grief that filled the room, but something kept him there. The haunting echo of his own past, the desperate need for someone to be there when he was in Suri’s place, paralyzed him. He didn’t know what to say, what to do. The helplessness in the air was suffocating, but he couldn’t just leave Suri like that—like he had been left.

Taking a deep breath, Ronan forced himself to move. He took a tentative step forward, his foot dragging against the floor, and then another, his anxiety clawing at him with every inch. His mind raced, scrambling for something—anything—to say. What do you even say to a kid who's just lost everything?

His throat felt tight as he awkwardly knelt down beside Suri, unsure of what to do next. He glanced around the room, feeling utterly lost. Finally, his hand found a glass of water on a nearby table. He offered it to the boy, his hands shaking slightly as he held it out.

“Here,” Ronan mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “You should… drink something.”

Suri didn’t respond at first, his eyes still fixed on his mother. But after a moment, he slowly lifted his head, his tear-streaked face glancing at the glass before looking up at Ronan. He took it without a word, his fingers trembling as they wrapped around the cup.

They sat there in silence for a while, the weight of grief filling every inch of the room. Ronan felt the familiar ache in his chest, the kind of pain that had no words. He remembered that crushing emptiness, the feeling of being abandoned by the world, and how much he had wished someone—anyone—had been there to understand him and his sister.

Yeah, at that time, he at least had his sister, but this boy had no one.

Gathering every ounce of courage he had left, Ronan finally spoke, his voice so quiet it was almost a murmur. “I know how much it hurts.”

Suri’s eyes flickered up to meet his, surprise flashing across his tear-filled gaze. He looked at him like he didn’t believe him. Truth be told, if Ronan looked at himself now, even he wouldn’t believe himself.

Ronan hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest as he looked at Suri. He wasn’t the type to talk about his past, not with anyone, but something in the boy’s eyes, in the way he looked so lost, tugged at Ronan in a way he couldn’t ignore. He swallowed hard, his throat dry, the words catching in his mouth before he forced them out.

“I... I was like you once,” Ronan said quietly, his voice almost too soft to hear. “My mother... she got sick too. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t do anything.” His eyes drifted to the floor, his hand clenched into a fist as he fought back the memories that threatened to overwhelm him. “I didn’t know what to do back then either. I was just... helpless.”

The room seemed to grow even quieter, the weight of his words settling between them. Suri stared at him, wide-eyed, as if he couldn’t believe that Ronan, this stranger who had stepped into his life so suddenly, could understand his pain. The disbelief in his eyes softened just a little, as if the shared pain between them created a fragile bridge.

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Ronan didn’t say anything more. He didn’t know how to. Instead, he did something that surprised even him. He reached out and gently placed his hand on top of Suri’s head, giving it a small, awkward pat. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could offer.

Suri sniffled, still clutching the water, his eyes following Ronan’s every movement. Ronan stood up slowly, his hand slipping away from the boy’s head. He wasn’t good at this, at comforting people, but he hoped that somehow, in some small way, it had made a difference.

Without another word, Ronan turned and walked out of the room, leaving Suri behind with his grief. As the door closed softly behind him, he leaned against the wall, his breath shaky.

***

It had been two days since Suri’s mother had passed. The memory of her cremation lingered heavily in Ronan’s mind. He hadn’t stepped in; he’d stood on the sidelines, watching as Suri had broken down completely, his tears relentless. The boy had clung to his mother’s memory like a lifeline, crying so hard that his small body had trembled with every sob. Gideon had been there, quiet, composed, helping in ways that didn’t need words. And Ronan had watched him, wondering about the noble’s motives. Was it all a ploy to win Ronan’s trust? Or was this simply who Gideon was? Either way, it had worked. It had made Ronan reconsider the man in ways he wasn’t ready to admit.

Now, as he wandered through the garden, the stillness of the night made Ronan feel like walking on cotton. His mind was a strange, empty haze, filled with everything and nothing at once. The cool air touched his skin, but he didn’t notice it much—lost in thought, not quite sure where his mind was taking him.

That’s when he saw Suri.

The boy was curled up in a corner of the garden, clutching his knees to his chest, his face buried in the fabric of his torn clothes. Ronan had passively tried to find him in the mansion after the cremation, but he had run off and he wasn’t able to find him since then. The servants, he assumed, might’ve seen him around, but he didn’t ask anyone about his whereabouts. But he did ask if he was okay. He knew that sometimes, people just want to hide. Now, he was in front of him, his small frame trembled every so often, though he wasn’t crying aloud anymore. Just... sitting there, a ball of grief and silence.

Ronan stopped in his tracks, watching him for a moment. He thought about leaving, letting Suri be, but something inside tugged at him. It was a feeling he didn’t quite understand, and yet, it was all too familiar. He looked just like his sister.

He hesitated but then, with a deep breath, he walked over to where Suri sat. He didn’t say anything. Just... sat down beside him.

Ronan glanced at Suri, unsure of what to say or even if he should say anything at all.

The silence stretched between them, the cool night air wrapping around them both. Ronan kept his eyes on the ground, unsure of what to do, how to make things even slightly better for the boy beside him.

It was Suri who spoke first, his voice barely a whisper. “She... always liked flowers,” he said, his voice trembling. “She used to take me to the fields and... we’d pick some together.” His hands tightened around his knees. “I tried to get her flowers yesterday, but... he shooed me away. And the bread was right in front of me.”

Ronan listened, his heart heavy as the boy spoke. He didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded, offering a quiet, “I’m sure she would have appreciated the bread.”

Suri didn’t seem to hear him at first, lost in his own memories. “When I was little, she told me that lavender could make you feel safe. She always smelled like lavender.”

Ronan glanced at him, his chest tightening at the way the boy’s words. He nodded again, this time a little slower, his voice soft. “Sounds like she loved you a lot.”

Suri sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve, but he didn’t cry. Instead, he seemed to draw some strength from the memories, his small body relaxing just a little. “She did... She really did.” He paused, glancing at Ronan for the first time. “Did your mom love you too?”

Ronan stiffened, caught off guard by the question. He hadn’t expected Suri to ask about him. For a long moment, he didn’t answer, his mind racing. But finally, he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Yeah,” he said, his voice barely a murmur. “She did.”

Suri, surprisingly, didn’t press him. He just nodded, his small fingers tracing patterns on the ground. “I wish I could see her again... just one more time.”

Ronan didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just sat there, letting Suri’s words settle between them. After a long pause, Suri spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “Why did you save me... back then? From those men?”

Ronan hesitated, his hands tightening slightly in his lap. He didn’t answer right away, the words sticking in his throat. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts, to figure out how much he was willing to say. “I... I’ve been where you were,” he finally said, his voice low. “In a worse place, actually.”

Suri looked up at him, his eyes wide with curiosity. “Really?”

Ronan nodded, his gaze distant. He didn’t elaborate, but his mind drifted back to the past—the slums, his sister, the hopelessness. “You remind me of someone,” he admitted quietly, his chest tightening. “Someone I couldn’t save.”

For a moment, there was silence. Ronan wondered if he’d said too much, if he should’ve kept that part to himself. But then, out of nowhere, Suri leaned over and hugged him.

Ronan stiffened, completely caught off guard. He didn’t move, his arms awkwardly at his sides, unsure of what to do. Suri buried his face into Ronan’s shoulder, his voice muffled as he spoke. “My mom always said hugs make everything better.”

Ronan didn’t hug him back, still too shocked to react, but he didn’t push him away either. He just sat there, letting Suri hold on, the boy’s small arms wrapped around him like he was holding on to the last bit of warmth he had left.