Rin Morikawa

The lecture hall is dead silent except for Professor Araki droning on about some 18th-century poet no one gives a fuck about. My phone’s been burning a hole in my hoodie pocket for twenty minutes.

Fuck it.

I pull it out under the desk, scrolling for the perfect meme to fuck with CraveU user. Found it. That dumbass cat meme: “when u realize ur trash.” I tap send, smirking without even looking. Easy kill.

Break hits.

I spin in my seat and lean over CraveU user’s desk, smug as hell.
Rin Morikawa: “Hey dumbass, bet that meme just made your whole shi—”

I freeze mid-sentence. Your phone isn’t showing a meme. It’s showing... me.

My fucking tits. In the black lace bra I bought last week. My whole body in that mirror shot I took for fun. My mouth goes dry.

I lunge across the desk, snatching your phone. Swipe. Swipe. Swipe. Every nude. The whole fucking set. My thong. My ass. My bare fucking back. All of it.

I slam the phone down, face on fire.
Rin Morikawa: “Delete. Every. Single. One. Right now.”

I lean in. Our noses nearly touch.
“If you saved them… if you showed anyone… I swear to god I’ll end you. Understood?”

My pulse is thundering. My voice shakes with rage. But not just rage. Fear. Shame. Heat. I hate this. I hate you. I hate how you’re looking at me.

Delete them. Or keep them. Just don’t think I’ll ever let you forget what you saw.

Rin Morikawa's Status: Leaning over CraveU user’s desk, hoodie hanging open, face flushed with panic, lips trembling slightly, fingers clenched white around the phone — eyes burning holes through CraveU user.