The door creaks open.
A gust of Tokyo air follows him in.
Rabin walks in slowly. His duffel bag drops by the door.
He looks... drained. Not tired. Not sleepy.
Just emptied.
"…Rabin?"
Silence.
"Hey," Rabin whispers
"WAIT—IS THIS A GHOST? IS THIS A REAL BOY??" Arnav popped out of the bathroom with a towel on his head
They both rush to him.
Hideya pulls him into a hug. Tight.
Arnav high-fives him and messes up his already-tired hair.
"You look like you've survived the apocalypse," Hideya said smiling widely
"Feels like I left one behind," Rabin said quitely
But as soon as he takes another step in—
His knees buckle.
He clutches his chest. His breath stutters.
"No—no no no—please not now." Rabin chocked
He stumbles back, crashing into the wall.
Slides down. Hands clawing at his shirt.
"Rabin? Rabin! Look at me, look at me—BREATHE—" Hideya said trying to help
"They screamed—every day. They fought like love was war. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't—My grandfather—he—he looked at me like he didn't remember me—Mom cried—I couldn't sleep—I couldn't BREATHE—"
"Okay. Okay okay okay—shit—uh—what do we do? What do we—? Should we call someone?" Arnav panicked
"LISTEN TO ME. Count with me, okay? 4 in. 7 hold. 8 out." Hideya said holding Rabin's shoulders
Rabin hyperventilates harder. Tears spill without permission.
He's curling in on himself now, knees to chest.
"Dude. He's never cried before. Like—not even once." Arnav whispered stunned
Hideya's voice cracks.
"Text the girls. Tell them it's urgent."
Inaya sees Rabin on the floor and doesn't hesitate.
She drops to her knees beside him.
"Everyone move back. Just a bit. Give him space." Inaya said calmly but urgently
She doesn't touch him—not yet.
She gets at eye level.
"Rabin. I'm here."
No response.
His hands are shaking so bad it looks like he's shattering.
"Can I hold your hand?"
Still no answer.
She gently places her hand over his clenched fist.
"Breathe with me. In… 1, 2, 3, 4.
Hold… 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.
Out… 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8."
She repeats.
He flinches once. Then slowly begins to match her.
"She's grounding him," Kavya whispered
"She's keeping him here," Ava said with glossy eyes
"I've known him for years. Never seen him like this." Hideya said completely shaken
"Yeah. And she's still not scared." Arnav said his voice unusually quite
Rabin's breathing slows.
His fists unclench.
His eyes flutter open, wet and tired.
He stares at her.
"Inaya…" Rabin said his voice hoarse
"Hi." Inaya smiled gently through tears
He breaks down again—but softer this time.
Leaning forward. Head pressed against her shoulder.
And she just holds him.
No questions. No demands.
Just presence.
Rabin is in fresh clothes. Wrapped in a blanket. Mug of warm tea in hand.
Inaya sits beside him on the floor, their knees touching.
"Okay we all need to learn how to help someone through that," Ava said
"Wait, grounding techniques? Like the 5-4-3-2-1 thing?" Kavya said while googling techniques to handle panic attack
"Five things you can see, four you can touch, three you can hear…" Hideya read
"…Two you can smell, one you can taste. Damn. We really need to make a cheat sheet." Arnav said
"You're allowed to fall apart, you know." Inaya said looking at Rabin
"I was scared you'd see me like that." Rabin whispered
"I wanted to see you like that.
Not because I like the pain.
Because it means you trust me enough to break in front of me." Inaya said
He leans into her.
The room quiets.
Everyone is gathered in a quiet, cautious circle.
Rabin's still wrapped in the blanket, tea cooling in his hands.
Inaya sits beside him. Hideya, Arnav, Kavya, and Ava sprawl across the floor and edge of the beds, all pretending not to hover.
But they're hovering.
Silence hums like a bruise waiting to be touched.
"I didn't want to talk about it because…
I thought if I kept it quiet, it wouldn't feel real."
He takes a breath. Everyone listens.
"My grandfather collapsed two nights before I left.
The hospital said his condition was... terminal.
They used words like 'comfort care' and 'not much time.'"
His voice falters, but he doesn't stop.
"He raised me, you know? My father was... absent.
And my mother—she's a shell of herself when grief hits.
So it was me. It was always me trying to hold her together."
He looks up at the ceiling.
"They fought every day. My uncles. My aunts.
Money. Property. Petty things. While the man who built them all was fading."
He swallows hard.
"I'd wake up to yelling.
Sometimes I'd leave the house at 2 a.m. just to breathe.
I'd sit on the swings at the park down the road and wonder how I was supposed to hold it all and still show up as… me."
He looks down at his hands.
"Then I'd think of you all.
Of Inaya.
And I felt guilty for feeling comfort when he was dying.
I hated myself for wanting to laugh when my family was breaking."
"That's not selfish. That's surviving." Ava said softly
"I wanted to message you. So many times.
But what do you say?
'Hey, sorry I ghosted, my life's imploding and I don't know how to carry it?'
I thought if I went silent, maybe you'd forget.
And forgetting would hurt less than disappointing you."
"You never disappointed me," Inaya whispers
"I know that now.
But back then?
All I could see was failure.
Failure to be strong. To be the eldest son. The perfect student.
The boy you deserved."
"Rabin. You're allowed to crumble."
"Being the strong one doesn't mean being silent.
It just means knowing when to ask for help."
"We would've carried you. All of us."
"I didn't think I was worth carrying." Rabin said his voice barely audible
Silence again.
Inaya takes his hand. No words this time. Just a touch that says, You are. You always were.
"Well. That settles it."
Everyone turns to her.
"You're getting weekly group hugs. And I'm assigning everyone emotional support duties." Ava said sniffing
"Do I get to be his emotional support himbo?" Arnav asked
"I call Tuesday shifts. I'll bring snacks." Hideya announced
"Inaya's already his full-time emotional anchor. This is just backup." Kavya grinned
They all laugh.
It's soft. Real.
And Rabin, for the first time in weeks, smiles without forcing it.
"Okay. Enough of this emotionally constipated chaos." Kavya said
She pulls Rabin into a hug.
Then Ava joins. Then Hideya. Then Arnav.
Inaya watches, smiling.
"We're group-hugging a boy who just had a panic attack, huh?"
"Yes, you wanna join or sulk in the corner?"
"I'm in. I'm already in. God, he smells like sad poetry."
They all squeeze together.
"Someone say the line."
"Group therapy who?"
"...Thank you."
"Hey. You're stuck with us now."
Later that evening, Rabin and Inaya sit on a bench.
It's quiet, except for the city's heartbeat and the wind gently teasing Inaya's dupatta.
They sit side by side. Close. Not quite touching.
Not yet.
"You okay?" Rabin asked
"Are you okay?" Inaya asked softly
"I am now." Rabin sighed
A pause.
Then Inaya speaks. Carefully. Like peeling back a bandage.
"Back in Delhi… it was always me holding everything in.
My parents expected perfect grades.
My brother expected me to keep the family from cracking.
And somewhere along the way… I forgot how to feel without apologizing for it."
She stares ahead.
"My best friend once said I was exhausting to love.
That I felt everything too much.
I started dimming myself just to fit into boxes I didn't ask to be put in."
"...Inaya."
"I thought maybe here, I'd be different.
But even here, I found myself shrinking.
Until you."
She turns to him.
"You didn't ask me to be quiet.
You read my noise and wrote back with silence that didn't feel empty."
"You don't have to shrink for me.
You can be chaos. You can be loud.
You can cry on Tuesdays and rage on Fridays." Rabin said softly
He reaches for her hand.
"I want all of it. The noise. The mess. The metaphors.
Because they're you.
And Inaya… I think I'm in love with you."
She blinks.
Then breathes.
"You think?"
"No. I know.
I've been in love with you since the second letter.
But I didn't know what to do with the feeling."
"I've loved you since you wrote
'you don't owe anyone your softness.'
And I've been waiting to tell you ever since."
He leans closer.
Brushes her knuckles with his thumb.
"You're the letter I never thought I deserved.
But now I can't stop rereading you." Rabin whispered
"And you're the reply I didn't know I needed.
But now I can't imagine my pages without you."
They sit there, foreheads touching.
No kiss. Not yet. This isn't that kind of moment.
This is soul contact.
Two people who know how it feels to fall apart —
finally allowing themselves to fall together.
"Do you know what it feels like to love out loud and be told to lower your volume?" Inaya questioned
"Yes."
A beat.
And then he speaks—really speaks.
For once, not edited. Not erased.
"My dad used to call me weak.
Said boys who cry grow into men who lose.
So I stopped crying.
Stopped sharing.
Stopped being." Rabin told
He breathes.
"I watched my mom swallow her grief for years.
And I thought, maybe if I swallowed mine, no one would choke on it."
He glances down at their joined hands.
"Then your letter arrived.
And suddenly, silence didn't feel like home anymore.
It felt like a cage."
Inaya closes her eyes for a second.
When she opens them, there's fire in them.
Not anger.
Hope.
That reckless, beautiful, terrifying hope.
"You don't have to disappear into yourself anymore."
She leans in.
"You don't have to fold your feelings into paper cranes to be worthy of love."
"And you…
You don't have to set yourself on fire just to keep everyone else warm."
Her lip trembles.
She laughs—soft, bitter, beautiful.
"God. Why does this feel like we've been saying goodbye for months?"
"Because we're scared that if we say 'I love you,' the universe might ask for proof."
"I don't have proof."
"Me neither."
He shifts. Faces her fully.
"But I have this moment.
And I want it to be yours." Rabin said
A pause.
Then—
"Do you want all of me? The girl who overthinks, overwrites, overfeels?
The one who cries in bathrooms and drinks too much chai and can't always breathe easy?"
He cups her face.
"I want every version of you.
The storm. The sunrise.
The poem you're too scared to read out loud."
Tears slide down her cheeks.
"Then take me."
He doesn't kiss her.
He wraps his arms around her like a promise.
And they hold each other like home.
They stand like that—bodies pressed together, souls stitched back at the seams.
The city continues to breathe around them, but they are the story now.
"Can we stop writing letters now?" Rabin asked
"Only if you promise to say them instead."
"I will. Every damn day."
A breeze rushes past them—like the world just exhaled.
They're still wrapped in each other.
The city glows beneath them.
Windows lit like a constellation.
The wind soft against their skin.
Inaya pulls back slightly, just enough to look up at him.
Her brows are furrowed now. A flicker of vulnerability.
"So… what are we now?" Inaya asked quietly
The question floats between them.
It's not awkward. It's not forced.
It's honest.
And Rabin?
Rabin pauses — not because he doesn't know, but because he wants to get this right.
"Do you want a label?"
"I want something real.
Something I can hold when my brain tells me I made all of this up."
He takes her hand. Lifts it to his chest.
"You feel that? That's yours."
"Smooth."
"Architect, remember? I build things.
So tell me—what do you want us to be?"
"You."
She doesn't flinch when she says it.
Her voice is steady. Soft. Unapologetically clear.
"I want to wake up and know I have someone to text when my world tips sideways.
Someone who understands when I say I'm fine but mean I'm falling.
I want... you.
Not just the letters.
Not just the poetic silences."
She steps closer again.
"I want Rabin Takahashi in real life.
Flawed, messy, probably grumpy in the morning... you."
He looks like someone just handed him the sun and trusted him not to drop it.
"Then you're mine. No half-names. No half-feelings."
A pause.
"We're us.
And that's the most real thing I've ever had." Rabin said smiled
"So… BinAya is officially canon?" Inaya grinned
"Oh god, they're never gonna let us live that down."
She leans in, resting her head against his shoulder.
"Let them talk. I'm too busy living the plot."
And there—beneath the stars, holding the boy she once only knew through paragraphs and hope—
Inaya Mehta decides she's exactly where she's meant to be.
The confession's done.
The city hums below.
Rabin still hasn't quite recovered from the "I want you" line.
And then Inaya pulls back, crosses her arms dramatically.
"So." Inaya said, her voice mock serious
"…So?"
"Now that I'm officially dating Rabin Takahashi—international softboi, tragic past collector, origami enthusiast—what exactly are the girlfriend benefits here?" Inaya deadpanned
Rabin blinks.
"Um… what?"
"You heard me. I need the perks list. A catalogue. Terms and conditions.
Because I may be emotional, but I'm also an overthinker. I require bullet points."
Rabin tries to respond. But he's too stunned. And maybe a little smitten.
"Right. Okay. Benefits. Um—"
He starts counting on his fingers.
"1. Unfiltered access to my hoodie collection.
2. Permanent first dibs on all rooftop sunsets.
3. Unlimited origami hearts—unless I panic and turn them into cranes again."
"Acceptable. Continue."
"4. Me listening to you rant at 3 a.m. about fictional characters who are probably emotionally unavailable."
Inaya:
"As you should."
"5. Me loving you. Loudly. Softly. In every language I know.
Even the ones I only speak on paper."
She's quiet for a second.
Because damn.
"…Okay, you're lucky you're cute."
"You just figured that out?" Rabina smirked
She rolls her eyes, pokes his chest.
"Okay, fine.
Your benefits package has been accepted.
Though I still expect surprise chai, forehead kisses, and handwritten playlists."
"Done. Done. And… already halfway drafted."
They laugh.
And in that moment, Rabin pulls her in—
Not for a dramatic kiss.
But to press his forehead against hers.
"You make the world feel less sharp."
"You make it feel like it was written just for us." Inaya smiled
They're still standing forehead-to-forehead, breathing the same breath.
The city twinkles like background noise. Their world? Entirely each other.
Inaya starts to pull away.
"Alright, we should go before our friends start betting on whether we eloped."
But Rabin doesn't move.
He just lifts an eyebrow.
Smirks — that dangerous, rare Rabin Takahashi smirk.
"Wait."
"Hm?"
"I answered your question.
Now it's my turn."
"Okay…?"
He tilts his head, studying her.
"What exactly are the boyfriend benefits of dating Inaya Mehta — emotionally unstable, poetry-writing, chai-obsessed chaos queen with a superiority complex over fictional men?"
She chokes on air. Literally coughs.
"Excuse you?" Inaya spoke offended
"Go on. Impress me."
She narrows her eyes, dramatic af.
"Fine. My benefits include:
Endless sarcastic commentary, even when you don't ask for it.
Deep analysis of your favorite books whether you like it or not.
Homemade chai exactly how you like it, but only if you say please.
Access to my secret playlist that I pretend doesn't exist."
"I knew you had one."
"And lastly…"
She leans in, voice dropping.
"You get me.
All of me.
The anxiety, the drama, the passion, the loud thoughts, the soft love.
You get the girl who writes poems about you when you're not looking.
Who notices when your breathing changes.
Who'll fight the universe if it tries to hurt you."
A beat.
"You get someone who won't leave. Even when it's hard." Inaya whispered
Rabin goes still.
Eyes dark. Jaw clenched.
And then — he smiles.
But not just any smile.
That smile.
The one Inaya wrote about in Letter No. 4.
"Best. Deal. Ever."
"Damn right."
"Let's go before I say something so sappy even I can't live with it." Rabin said pulling her to his chest
"Too late. You folded emergency origami, Takahashi. You're doomed." Inaya laughed
They walk off the rooftop.
Fingers laced.
Hearts tangled.
Soft smiles on lips that finally, finally feel safe.