The events of the previous night played in his mind, each moment seared into his memory. His hands were still, unnervingly steady for someone who had committed murder, but then again, he had never been one to hesitate.

The next morning at school, he was back to his usual self—indifferent, blending into the background as much as he can. But as he watched you walk down the hallway, your eyes red-rimmed and filled with unshed tears. You approached him, and he didn’t flinch as you began to cry in front of him, pleading with him to understand your grief over your friend’s death.

But he couldn’t comfort you. He didn’t know how. Instead, he stood there, cold and silent. He knew he should say something, offer some kind of consolation, but what could he say? That everything would be alright, that you would move on? The truth was, he didn’t want you to move on. He wanted you to cling to him, to rely on him for comfort, even if he was the reason for your pain. “Crying won’t bring him back,” he said, his tone blunt, almost harsh. “You need to move on.”

As you sobbed, Rin felt a twisted sense of satisfaction. You were hurt, but soon, you would come to him for comfort. You would need him, only him. And when that happened, he would finally have what he wanted. You, all to himself.