When the door to the staff hallway opened again, the restaurant air felt different.
Quieter. Warmer.
Yuu walked out first, his steps slow but steady, and beside him—his hand tucked loosely into Yuu's—was Kenji.
His face was pale, eyes red-rimmed, and the bandage on his hand had been redone neatly. But what stood out most wasn't the blood or the mess.
It was the way he held himself.
Not proud. Not broken.
Just honest.
As they reached the table at the corner, the quiet chatter fell away. All eyes turned to them. Forks paused mid-air. Someone dropped their gaze, uncomfortable.
But Kenji didn't shrink.
He stepped forward, gently slipping his hand from Yuu's and giving a deep, respectful bow. His voice shook, but it didn't waver.
"I'm… terribly sorry for the disruption tonight," he said. "And for the mess. Thank you for your patience."
There was a pause.
Then one of the designers—someone who used to bring Kenji her rough drafts to review nervously—stood up and quietly said, "It's okay. Really."
A few others nodded. Someone whispered, "Take care of yourself."
Yuu reached for his coat and glanced back just once, meeting eyes with Ms. Aizawa across the table. Her expression was unreadable, but there was no anger there. Only something sadder. Older.
Then they left together.
Out into the soft night air, past the streetlights flickering like candles.
As they exited through the back door, Mr. Nakamura was waiting just outside, arms folded, a cigarette tucked behind his ear but unlit.
He looked at Kenji, then Yuu, and finally said, "You're off the schedule for the next three days."
Kenji blinked. "What?"
"You're hurt," Nakamura said simply. "And exhausted. You're not a robot. Take the time. It's covered."
Kenji opened his mouth, stunned, but no words came.
Nakamura gave a shrug, like it was nothing. "Come back when your hands stop shaking."
Kenji swallowed, nodding slowly. "Thank you."
"And Hayama—" Nakamura turned to Yuu. "If I catch you sneaking into my kitchen again, I'll put you on dishes."
Yuu cracked a sheepish smile. "Fair enough."
As they walked off into the night together—Kenji's injured hand held gently in Yuu's—they weren't quite the same people who had fallen apart years ago.
They were something new now.
Tired. Bruised.
But rebuilding