Ranvir was on his feet and around the desk before the door could swing fully open. Kirs gave him a look, then stepped away. Vasso’s face, wide-eyed and red-faced, was held in tight restraint, though red around the eyes spoke of unbidden emotion.

“Hey,” Ranvir said, approaching him slowly. Walking with calm and ease as Vasso pushed away from the wall and into the desk. “What happened?”

Face twisting, Vasso turned and shut the door with a shaking hand. Runaway emotions, reined in by a weak grip, shook his blond curls as he refused to turn to Ranvir.

“Can I touch you?” Ranvir asked, reaching out to his son.

Vasso shook his head and stepped sideways. Biting back the demands of his instincts, demands telling him to seize Vasso in a tight hug and never let go, Ranvir waited. Crouching only a couple meters from the boy.

Vasso panted as if he’d sprinted from the entrance and all the way here. Ragged, almost torn, lung fulls. Yet, he’d clearly not been running. Vasso was neither sweating nor even hot under the collar.

Ranvir ached with pain as he looked at him. Mind spinning, attempting to figure out what to say. What to do.

“Do you need a few minutes?” Ranvir asked, just to say something.

Vasso nodded, though he seemed in less and less control of himself as time passed. Each minuscule droplet of wax, burning away with an indifference to time, only rivaled by mountains and glaciers.

Vasso hunched in on himself, sitting on back and curling his knees to his chest. The gasping turned to full on sobs that wracked his entire body. It seemed as if Vasso was tearing apart right in front of Ranvir, and there was nothing he could do.

“I got a blanket. Do you want it?”

Vasso shook his head, a flash of wet-streaked cheeks revealed in the movement.

A choking pain tore through Ranvir. A need for action. He wanted to tear apart the school and find out what had happened. He’d rip apart the entire country if it would give him the answer. His hands shook as much as Vasso’s when he draped the blanket around his shoulder.

Vasso's fists were tiny, white, bloodless clumps at the end of his arms. Squeezed so tight they might burst. Emotions were piled so high within his kid, Ranvir could barely tell if it was sadness or anger. Probably both.

Realistically, there were only a couple of people who could do this to Vasso. Even fewer with any reason or motivation.

“Do you want to go back to your room?” Ranvir asked. Vasso didn’t seem to hear, yet Ranvir suspected he had. There wasn’t much else happening inside the office.

“Yes.” The voice was raw and rough with unshed emotions.

Ranvir nodded and quickly forged a quick path to his room, bypassing the usual restraints. A short walk had Vasso shutting the door behind him and running to his bed. Ranvir glanced through the short tunnel to his office. He had a lot of work that needed to be done.

The walls, door, blanket, and bed were incapable of stopping the ragged sound of Vasso’s crying. He let the tunnel close. If it was truly important, then the others could get to him when the time was right.

He made another swift trip, rushing as fast as he could. Within the span of a flare, he returned to the house. Vasso’s cries had subsided. Yet, there was no sign of cooling emotions.

Softly, Ranvir knocked on the door. “I brought some of the ice cream from the Collegia. Do you want any?” The dessert had gone slightly soft, just to spite his rush, but it was still more than edible.

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Vasso soon appeared in the doorway. Glancing at the two cones, he sniffled and grabbed both. Ranvir nodded as Vasso heeled the door shut.

“I need to do something or this is going to drive me mad.” So he began cleaning, then picked Frija up from the orphanage. Earlier than normal, but he had the time. “Listen, Vasso is a little vulnerable at the moment,” Ranvir explained. “He’s not feeling too well, so we’re going to give him as much or as little attention as he wants, okay?”

“Does he want Menace?” Frija asked, pulling gently at the scruff of the huge cat’s neck.

“I don’t know, but we can ask him.”

“Menace always helps me.”

Ranvir nodded at her wise words and led them home. Vasso knew where they were and why he’d left, so he took the excruciatingly long path back. Walking with Frija’s hand in his and Menace pacing on her other side. Giving Vasso some space was the right thing to do, especially when he knew of Ranvir’s enhanced senses.

Yet, nothing had changed when they returned. Vasso still sat in his room, on the bed, wrapped in a comforter. He moved only when he first noticed their approach. Frija glanced at Ranvir with big eyes. He nodded to her. She knocked firmly against the door.

Waiting, Ranvir realized she was waiting for Vasso to open the door, or at least respond. He wasn’t likely to do either in this situation.

“You have to tell him first.”

Frija set her jaw and nodded. “I’m sending Menace in.”

“Ask if you can.”

Frija sighed impatiently. “But it’s good for him,” she said in a near whine.

Ranvir stifled a chuckle. “He still needs to give permission.”

“Let me send Menace,” Frija commanded the door. A choked sound came from Vasso’s room. Laughter? Crying?

“You can send him.” the rough tone of Vasso’s voice turned Frija’s eyes wide, and she pulled the door open quickly. Before he could stop her, Frija ran into the room and jumped onto Vasso and his bed.

Though he lay with his back to the room, he clearly recognized the noise of her feet. He turned to protest, but his words were quelled when fifteen odd kilos slammed into his chest. Ranvir reached out to pull her back, but hesitated when Vasso pulled his arms free.

Instead of throwing her off, he hugged her back. Menace patted into the room, climbing far more carefully into bed. Wood groaning under his sheer mass. Vasso let out a quiet grunt but otherwise didn’t complain.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Ranvir said. “I’ll be here if you want to talk, Vasso.”

His son gave him a look. It was obscured by the shadows of the darkened room, but Ranvir didn’t think it was positive. Nodding, he shut the door and waited.

Sometime later, they all three fell asleep. None except Menace woke up for dinner, but the cat only stirred awake long enough to see the others would not eat before returning to its slumber.

An hour after night fell, Frija slipped into her own bed, groggy, yet somehow still kinda sleepy. Hours later, Vasso awoke. Whether it was bodily needs, the heat from Menace’s body, or some emotion, he ventured out of his room.

Soon, his feet creaked on the stairs. Ranvir’s heart caught in his throat as he watched his son come around the corner. Stopping on the threshold to the kitchen, Vasso peered at him for a long moment. His face seemed strangely empty after the potent emotions that somehow was only been a moment ago, yet over twelve hours hence.

“Dad.”

That made Ranvir’s shoulders ease and his chest relax. “Son.”

“Laila said…” Vasso’s jaw worked back and forth and emotion swam across his face. “She said that you hurt Shiri.”

Ranvir scratched at his jaw. “I’m not really sure how to approach that. I haven’t spoken to her in quite some time. Before I left, in fact.”

Vasso’s face twisted. He approached, stepping into the small space. Sitting down opposite Ranvir. “She broke up…” he looked down, sweaty blond hair wobbling as he did. “She said it was because of you.”

Ranvir offered a hand, laying it partly across the table. “I’m sorry that it got taken out on you, Son. I don’t know — I have some idea why this might’ve happened, but I can… I can clear things up.” He finished determinedly, despite the sudden hitch in his own chest. More recently unveiled emotions showed themselves, beads of wavering lights nervously rolling across upturned soil.

“Thanks, Dad,” Vasso said, reaching across the table and seizing Ranvir’s hand. A soft balm light lit the nervous beads as Ranvir took in a deep breath.

“Anytime and anything, Vasso. You can always come to me to complain,” he leaned in a little closer. “Even if it is about me.” To his great relief, Vasso smiled and snorted. It wasn’t quite a laugh, yet more than enough.

“I’ll think about it.”

“So, what do you think I should do?”

Vasso frowned. “Talk with her?”

“Who? And which one of us?”

“Maybe both of them and both of us.”

“You didn’t inherit my head, that’s for sure.”

“Dad, I didn’t inherit anything from you. I’m…” he leaned in as if to tell a secret. “I’m adopted.”

“That makes so much sense!”

Vasso leaned back and smiled.

“You still don’t want a hug?”

“No,” Vasso shook his head, clutching his fingers tighter.

Ranvir nodded, turning his seat sideways to more comfortably hold Vasso’s hand.