The low thud of hurried footsteps echoed across the marble floor, cutting through the quiet tension hanging in the air.
Kenji's manager—Mr. Nakamura—appeared around the corner with a tight frown, his eyes scanning the scene swiftly: glass shards scattered across the tile, dark red smears against crisp white cloth, and in the middle of it all, Kenji, crouched on the floor, blood on his arm—
—and Yuu, kneeling beside him, fingers curled gently around Kenji's wrist.
"Kenji," Nakamura said, voice sharp but restrained. "What happened?"
Kenji didn't look up. "A customer stood up suddenly. I tripped. It was my fault."
Nakamura's eyes narrowed at the sight of the soaked sleeve, the haphazard bandage already turning pink.
"You're bleeding."
"It's under control," Kenji said quietly, still avoiding his manager's gaze. "I'll finish cleaning this up."
But Nakamura's focus had already shifted. His eyes landed on Yuu—on the closeness, the way Kenji wasn't looking at him, the faint tremble in his shoulders. He misread it.
"Sir," Nakamura said, firmer now, "I'm going to have to ask you to let go of him."
Yuu blinked, confused. "I'm just—he's hurt—"
"I understand," Nakamura interrupted, keeping his tone neutral. "But Kenji looks uncomfortable, and I need to make sure my staff are safe and supported. Please step back."
Kenji's head snapped up at that.
"Nakamura, it's okay—he's not—"
But Yuu was already letting go, hands lifting in a slow, respectful gesture of surrender.
"I wasn't trying to—" he began, but stopped. "I'm sorry."
Nakamura gave a curt nod, then crouched beside Kenji himself, gently nudging him up with a hand under the elbow.
"You need medical attention," he said. "We've got first aid in the back. I'll handle the floor."
"I can finish this," Kenji muttered.
"You won't," Nakamura said, not unkindly. "Come on."
Kenji hesitated, glancing at Yuu. A flicker of something fragile passed between them—confusion, regret, pain. But also something older. Warmer. Still there beneath the dust.
And without another word, Kenji let himself be led away.
Yuu stood in the middle of it all—glass at his feet, wine staining his shoes—and felt like the floor had cracked again, just like all those years ago.
Except this time, he wasn't sure if he'd be the one left holding the door open… or watching it close behind Kenji once more.