Rabin lay back on his bed, one arm flung over his face like a boy in an indie film who just got emotionally smacked by life. His hoodie's half-zipped. His origami box is untouched. The world is quiet — but not the good kind.
He unlocked his phone. Scrolled aimlessly. He liked a random architecture reel. Tapped through stories.
And then—
@paxonsen's name popped up.
He clicked. Absentminded. Lazy thumb. Whatever.
But what he saw?
Rabin forgets how to breathe.
A collage of library moments. Casual. Cute. Intimate in a way only the unaware can be.
One photo: Inaya mid-laugh, eyebrows raised as Paxon roasts her.
One boomerang: They tap pens against a notebook in sync.
One video: Paxon turning the camera to her while she's mock-glaring at something he's written.
And then — the final slide: A grainy black-and-white shot. Inaya, face resting on her palm, looking at Paxon out of frame — soft. unguarded. real.
Caption underneath:
"The chaos to my control. Good work tonight, partner."
Rabin stared at it.
And stared.
And stared.
"That's what she looks like when she isn't trying to be anything. That's what she looks like when she's comfortable. I've written her poems. She's written me grief. And yet — he's the one getting that version of her?
The undone hair. The unguarded laugh.
The side of her that doesn't need editing.
His phone dims from inactivity. He doesn't notice.
His chest is tight. His hands are cold. He hates this.
"I trust her. I do.
But he gets to be there. All the time.
He gets to sit across from her and watch her become.
And me?
I'm just the boy who replies to letters." Rabin started spiraling all over again.
"You're breathing weird. Stop doing that thing." Hideya said without looking up from the origami he was busy folding
"He posted pictures of them," Rabin said his voice quieter than ever.
"The partner guy?" Hideya asked turning to Rabin
"This was taken tonight. After everything." Rabin said showing him the story
"She's allowed to have other people in her life, you know." Hideya shrugged
"I know. I just… didn't think it'd look so much like this."
"She showed up for you. She keeps showing up. Don't punish her for being wanted by more than just you."
Rabin exhales, staring at the screen like it's daring him to flinch.
The squad gathers one by one in front of the main gate. It's chilly but sunny.
Laughter echoes from other groups. The city is alive.
But not our group.
Today? Our group is weirdly… quiet.
Kavya arrives first — iced coffee in hand, AirPods in, ready to fight professors and patriarchy.
Arnav strolls up next, yawning and looking like he lost a battle with his alarm clock.
Ava and Hideya walk together, mid-flirt, mid-sass, mid–whatever it is they've got going on. They're glowing.
And then — him.
Rabin walks up, black headphones on, dressed in all black like heartbreak itself, backpack slung over one shoulder, his face unreadable.
He doesn't greet anyone.
Doesn't make eye contact.
Just gives a vague nod and scrolls through his phone like it's the only thing in the world that won't betray him.
He's vibing to a song so loud it's audible through the headphones —
🎧 "Liability" by Lorde
(yeah. he's that level of sad)
Inaya walks up next. Hair in a lazy braid. Books hugged to her chest. She's already spotted him.
"Please look at me.
Just once.
I swear I'll fix it." Inaya thought.
But he doesn't.
Doesn't even flinch.
"Okay, he's on his avoid-and-vibe era." Kavya nudged Ava, whispering
"He's got that 'if I ignore my emotions, maybe they'll disappear' energy." Ava whispered back
"Bro looks like he's narrating a tragic indie movie in his head." Arnav said
Suddenly, Rabin's phone rings.
He winces, pulling off one headphone.
The screen says: "Okasan"
He answers with a tight jaw.
"Yeah?" Rabin said his voice flat
(pause)
"Mom, I'm walking. I told you I'd call back later." Rabin said
(pause)
"No, I haven't eaten yet. Can we not do this now—?"
(pause, louder now)
"I'm not avoiding you, I'm just busy, okay?"
He hangs up mid-sentence.
Silence.
Everyone heard that.
No one knows what to say.
"Rabin—" Inaya said her voice as soft as cotton
He puts the headphones back on before she finishes.
The kind of move that says I'm here, but I'm not here.
He walks ahead of the group.
"He didn't even look at me.
Not once.
I didn't know love could feel this cold when it was still in the room." Inaya thought to herself.
"He's spiraling." Hideya whispered to Arnav
"Yeah… and I think she knows it too."
The sky outside burns orange. Inside, it's cold.
Rabin is at his desk. Focused. Or pretending to be.
Inaya storms in like thunder with nowhere left to go.
"You've been ignoring me. For two whole days, Rabin."
"I've been busy."
"Yeah? Too busy to answer a message but not too busy to scroll Insta and sulk over a library story?"
"If I wanted a guilt trip, I'd call my dad."
Inaya stops. Blinks. That one hurts.
But she doesn't back down.
"Wow. That's rich. You disappear, shut down, throw attitude like it's origami — and I'm the problem?"
"You think the world revolves around your feelings, Inaya. Not everything is about you."
"Then maybe you shouldn't have made me feel like I was your world in the first place!"
She throws her bag down. His sketchpad flinches off the table.
"You told me to trust you. To wait for you. And the second things get even a little difficult — you vanish. Like I'm just another letter you can stop answering."
"Because maybe you were always better off with someone like him!"
(he regrets it the second it leaves his mouth)
Silence.
The kind that stings.
"Say that again."
"You want chaos. Noise. Constant attention. I can't give you that. I'm not wired that way."
"No, you're just wired to run away. You talk about silence like it's your shield — but you use it as an excuse to never show up."
"I showed up! Every night! Every goddamn letter I poured my soul out to you—"
"And the second you didn't have a screen to hide behind, you ran! You let one post from a guy who doesn't even know me rattle you!"
"Because I don't trust easy, Inaya! And maybe it was stupid to think you'd wait for someone like me when guys like him are already next to you!"
"So that's what you think of me? That I'd just… move on? That I'm that replaceable?"
"Everyone leaves. I just figured I'd get ahead of it this time."
Her face falls.
"You don't get to throw your trauma at me like a grenade and act like I deserved to be hit by it."
"You don't get to play victim in a war you started!"
"I STARTED NOTHING! I just loved you!"
And then silence.
A thunderclap silence.
"But maybe that was the real problem."
He turns away.
She sees it — the fear, the regret, the everything — but she's too hurt to care.
"I hope that sketch you're working on? It's more stable than whatever the hell we were."
She slams the door behind her.
Rabin doesn't move.
Doesn't breathe.
He just stands in the debris of a love he didn't mean to ruin.
Door.
SLAMS.
Inaya bursts in like a hurricane wrapped in heartbreak — bag hitting the floor, fists clenched, breath shallow.
Kavya is lounging in bed with a face mask on, scrolling Pinterest.
Ava is journaling while blasting a sad girl playlist at full volume.
Both girls freeze.
"Uh… did you burn the building down or did someone burn you?" Kavya asked sitting up
"Oh my god—Aya, what happened?"
Inaya doesn't answer.
She moves like she's on autopilot.
Shrugs off her jacket.
Slams her phone face down on the desk.
Rips open her drawer and violently pulls out her boba tea plushie pillow.
Then—
Screams. Into. The. Pillow.
"Okay. We've officially reached 'feral chaos' tier."
"Was it… Rabin?" Ava questioned softly
Inaya finally looks up.
Her eyes are glassy. Her cheeks flushed.
Her mouth is doing that thing where it trembles just enough to look strong but not enough to stop the tears.
"I said things I didn't mean.
He said things he should've never said.
It was… it was—awful."
She crashes into the bed, face buried in her pillow.
"He thinks I'll leave. That I've already left. Because Paxon exists. Like I'm that… shallow. That replaceable." Inaya said her voice muffled
"HE DID NOT. I swear to God, I will go fold him into an origami disappointment and set it on fire." Kavya said
"Do we need to… slash his sketchbooks?"
"No. Just… hug me or something before I make a revenge playlist and dedicate it to his Spotify algorithm." Inaya said laughing weakly
They pile on.
Kavya wraps her arms around her. Ava pats her head with the same energy she'd use on a puppy who's been emotionally wrecked by love and men with communication issues.
"You didn't do anything wrong, Aya. You just wanted someone to stay." Kavya whispered
"And he still might. Even people with walls trip over their own feelings eventually." Ava said
"I hate him.
I love him.
I hate that I love him.
I hate that even more." Inaya said half-laughing, half-sobbing
"You're allowed to feel all of that."
"And we'll be here for you. Whether he figures it out or not."
They all sit in a heap — mascara on sheets, limbs tangled, hearts collectively holding Inaya's pieces.
From the other side of campus, a light blinks from Rabin's studio window.
He's still in that room. Still staring at the door she walked out of.
And neither of them is okay.
The room is dimly lit.
Hideya is on his bed, one sock on, half a Twix in hand.
Arnav is pacing dramatically with a bag of chips, having just barged in like a sitcom character mid-rant.
"I came here after convincing Ava for DAYS.
I thought it'd be a chill boys' night out — maybe pizza, passive-aggressive Mario Kart, no tears.
And now here we are, sitting in a goddamn Shakespeare tragedy." Arnav grumbled
"Welcome to the male fragility hour." Hideya deadpanned
Rabin is sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows on knees, head bowed, fists clenched.
He hasn't said a word since Arnav walked in.
His phone is next to him — the screen black, but it feels like it's screaming.
There's a letter unsent in his drafts. A drawing was half-finished on his desk.
And a voice in his head that sounds too much like her saying,
"But maybe that was the real problem."
"I messed up." Rabin mumbled quietly
"What happened?" Arnav asked sitting beside him
"I said things. Things I didn't mean.
Things I—God, I could see it in her eyes.
I broke something. Something that mattered." Rabin asked finally lifting his head
"You mean… her?" Hideya asked from across the room.
"Inaya."
Silence.
It's thick. Heavy. Weighted like the breath you hold when your chest cracks but the sob hasn't arrived yet.
And then—
He shatters.
"She said she loved me.
And I said—"
(chokes)
"I said she wanted chaos. I said she was better off." Rabin said voice shaking, tears finally falling
"Bro…" Arnav froz
"I said it to hurt her. Because I was scared. Because I thought if I burned it down first, it wouldn't hurt as much when she left." Rabin laughed bitterly
"But she wasn't leaving."
"I know. And that's what kills me."
He breaks.
Not in a loud way.
In the way that someone who's spent years building walls finally feels what it's like when one falls — and the dust gets in your throat and your soul at the same time.
"I've never cried in front of anyone. Not even my mom. But she—
She made me want to be the kind of man who deserves to be seen.
And now I don't even know if I'll get the chance to try." Rabin whispered
"You will. You have to." Arnav said placing a hand on his back
"She's fire, Rabin. And she doesn't burn easy. But you have to show up before the smoke clears." Hideya said
"And you better do it fast. Because if she cries one more night, Ava's gonna hex your ass in five languages." Arnav warned half grinning
They all laugh — low, broken, but real.
"I love her.
I don't know how to say it without messing it up…
but I do." Rabin said still crying but his voice steadier now
It's still dark outside.
The clock reads 4:47 AM.
Rabin stands by the door, fully dressed, his suitcase by his side.
He takes one last look around the room — Arnav is snoring with his mouth wide open, one sock halfway off. Hideya's arm is flung over his face like he's shielding himself from emotions.
"I'm sorry." Rabin whispered
He places a folded note on the fridge — held up by a magnet shaped like a sushi roll.
He opens the door.
Leaves.
Just like that.
Cut to black.
Arnav stumbles out of bed wearing yesterday's hoodie and an unexplainable level of betrayal.
"Why does it feel like someone died?" Arnav asked his voice groggy
"That's just your grades."
Then he sits up.
Squints at the fridge.
Sees the note.
Hideya:
"Wait."
He walks up, pulls it off the fridge.
"Didn't know how to say goodbye.
Got a call from home — it's family stuff. Serious. Can't ignore it this time.
I'm flying back to Tokyo this morning. Don't know how long I'll be gone.
Tell Inaya I'm sorry.
For everything I said.
For everything I didn't."
— Rabin
"He WHAT?" Arnav yelled complete awake by now
Just then—BOOM BOOM BOOM.
The door slams open.
Kavya, Ava, and Inaya barge in like gossip-fueled hurricanes.
"Okay, lovebirds. Are the boys alive? I'm ready for Rabin to confess again so I can mock it in peace." Kavya smirked
"I brought apology croissants." Ava said
"Is he still asleep?" Inaya asked her voice hopeful
Hideya and Arnav exchange a look.
A bad look.
"What?" Inaya asked noticing their looks
No one says anything.
"What happened??"
"He left," Arnav said softly
"...left where?"
"Japan," Hideya said holding out the note for her to read
Inaya reads it.
Then reread it.
Then—she's sitting. On the bed. Note in hand. The croissant bag slipped from Ava's grip.
No tears yet. Just that frozen heartbreak face — the one where your lungs forget how to breathe.
"He didn't even say goodbye," Inaya whispered
"What kind of soft boy disappears like a ghost with a note like a plot twist?" Kavya asked furious
"Why is this fridge now the most emotionally charged object in this room?"
"I knew it.
I knew this was gonna happen.
He finally lets himself feel something…
And then he runs the second it gets real." Arnav said
"He's scared.
He always has been." Hideya said quietly
"Well I hope fear's worth it.
Because I would've stayed." Inaya said her hold on the note tightening
Later that night, Hideya is lying on his bed, scrolling through Pinterest for "Best Origami Shapes to Emotionally Communicate Regret."
He's got half a Kit-Kat in his mouth when his phone buzzes.
Incoming Call: Origami boy
He sits up fast.
"Yo. You alive?"
"Hey… can you talk?" Rabin asked his voice raw
"Yeah. Yeah of course. What's up?"
"It's my mom. She called earlier today. My grandfather—he's not doing well. And the family needs me. Not like a 'drop-in-and-wave' visit. Like… actually be there. For real." Rabin said
"Shit… dude. I'm sorry. Is it that serious?"
"Yeah. The kind of serious where silence starts feeling louder than home."
Pause.
A long one.
"What about… everything here?"
Another pause.
This one hurts.
"I don't know when I'll be back."
"…Rabin."
"And I don't know if I'll be back."
Silence.
Heavy. Like grief that hasn't landed yet.
"I just… I didn't know how to say it to her. Not after what happened. Not after what I said. If I stayed, I would've wanted to fix it. But now I don't even know if I deserve to."
"You deserve to. You were scared. That's human."
"I'm not scared of loving her. I'm scared of becoming someone who fails her. I was halfway there already." Rabin's voice cracked
"Then be scared. But don't be gone."
"Tell her I'm sorry. Tell her I wish I was braver."
"I'm not telling her anything. You will. When you come back."
"If." Rabin let out a bitter chuckle
"No. When.
Because Rabin, if you don't—
you'll regret it every time the wind smells like ink and someone says her name."
There's a breath.
Like Rabin's holding everything in and just doesn't have room anymore.
"You're a good friend." Rabin said softly
"Yeah. And good friends tell you when you're being a dumbass.
So hear me: she would've waited. Don't make her wonder if she should've." Hideya said sternly
The call goes quiet.
Then—
"Goodbye, Hideya."
"No. Not goodbye.
See you soon." Hideya said immediately.
Kavya is brushing her hair with one hand, juggling her iced latte in the other.
Ava is attempting to glue press-on while trying not to spill lip gloss on Arnav's stats notes.
The door bursts open.
Hideya and Arnav stand there.
Hideya's face is unreadable.
Arnav? Kinda looks like someone just told him BTS disbanded.
"Okay... what happened? You both look like you witnessed a crime." Kavya asked
"Did someone die? Wait—don't tell me. Let me get my anxiety blanket first."
"Y'all are being dramatic," Inaya asked having just woken up
"What's wrong?"
"It's Rabin."
Inaya freezes.
"What... what about him? Why did he leave did he tell the reason?"
"He got a call from home. His grandfather's not doing well. It's serious."
"But he didn't tell me. He didn't say anything. He just—left?"
"Maybe he didn't know how," Kavya said softly
"No! No—he always knows how. He writes better than anyone I've ever known. He sends words like oxygen. Don't tell me he didn't know how."
She backs away.
One step. Two. Like the news physically stung her.
"I told him not to disappear again. I told him." Inaya's voice cracked
"Aya, breathe—please." Ava rushed
"I CAN'T!" Inaya screamed into the void
She throws her phone onto her bed, covers her face with both hands, and lets the weight of it crash into her.
Kavya holds her from behind like she's holding together the girl who always holds everyone else.
Ava is rubbing her arm. Arnav has never looked this quiet.
"He called me after he reached the note Said he didn't know if he'd be back."
The room goes dead still.
"...He said that?"
Hideya nods.
"Then I guess that's that. I guess I was just a season."
"No. Don't do that. Don't shrink like this." Kavya panicked
"Family comes first. You know that." Ava said
"Then why does it feel like I was last?"
Everyone falls silent again.
"I know him. He didn't leave because he wanted to.
He left because he didn't know how to stay and still be okay." Ava said her voice soft and hesitant
Inaya looks up. Her eyes are glassy.
"Then why couldn't he trust me to understand?"
No one answers.
"We don't know what's happening on his end. But whatever it is…
I hope it's not something he has to go through alone." Kavya said gently
They all sit there.
Quiet.
Heavy.
United in heartbreak.
And across the ocean, somewhere in a house full of fading memories—
Rabin stares out the window of his childhood bedroom.
The sky outside is storm gray.
His phone vibrates with notifications he doesn't open.
And still, somewhere in his soul, she lives—loud, soft, always too much and somehow never enough.