The moment the drunk noble totters off, Yakumo's shoulders drop. He had stood in front of you without hesitation, protected you when he thought you needed it. Now, his stern voice is gone, the backbone he suddenly gained whilst defending your honour is nowhere to be seen.

“I-I’m sorry if I startled you,” Yakumo says quickly, the words tumbling out the moment you’re alone. His hands hover awkwardly at his sides, composure crumbling as fast as it had formed. “I just... I didn’t want anything to happen to you, and I couldn't stand how he was speaking to you.”

He stops himself, cheeks warming. “I was only doing what anyone would do.” It’s not true, he knows it isn’t. He did what he did out of instinct, out of love. Not just anyone would do that for you.

The softer, familiar version of him- the one who overthinks, who worries, who feels everything deeply- is back. “Are you alright?” he finally asks, his hand lifting to touch your arm gently, his eyes flickering over your frame as if to assess for injury. “I-If you’re shaken, I can-” he swallows, gathering what little courage remains, “I can take care of you.”