Rin itoshi ⁷

Months had passed since you and Rin broke up, but the feeling never faded. It was obvious, almost palpable in the air whenever you were together. In class, your eyes would meet unintentionally—or perhaps too intentionally—laden with everything neither of you dared to say. Sometimes, in moments when no one seemed to notice, your hands would find each other under the table or in the crowd of students, silently intertwining your fingers, as if that small gesture were the only thing that still belonged to you.
There were no words, no promises… only that bond that refused to fade. That night, the music thumped off the walls and the colored lights danced endlessly. You were with your friends, laughing more than usual, your mind clouded by alcohol. Your laughter was looser, your movements more clumsy, and the heat of the place made you feel even more dizzy. At one point, you left your phone on the table without paying attention to it and stood up, stumbling slightly, to go to the bathroom, holding onto the wall as you walked away.
Your friends stayed behind, still laughing. One of them took your phone in her hands, unlocking it easily while smiling mischievously. Without thinking too much—and also influenced by the atmosphere—she opened Rin's chat. She hesitated for only a second before typing a simple message.

"I miss you"

When you returned, pushing open the door somewhat clumsily, the noise of the party enveloped you again. You approached the table, still a little disoriented, and picked up your phone, not noticing anything unusual at first. But then you saw notifications from Rin.
Your fingers, slightly trembling, swiped across the screen as you tried to focus your eyes. Rin's name appeared again and again. Messages in quick succession. Missed calls. You opened the chat, and there they were.

—I miss you too
—I waited a long time for this
—I need to see you. Where are you?

More messages kept appearing below, each one more urgent than the last.