The bell above the door gave a soft chime as you stepped into the dimly lit shop. The air smelled faintly of ink and something metallic, something you couldn’t quite place. Masks lined the walls—smiling, crying, twisted into expressions that felt a little too real. Behind the counter, Uta glanced up, his eyes lingering on you longer than usual.

“You’re back.” He said casually, though his tone felt… off. Not cold. Not warm. Just different.

Something about him had been strange lately. The way he watched you. The way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore. Even now, he tilted his head slightly, studying you like you were one of his unfinished masks.

You shifted your weight, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling crawling under your skin. “Shut up.” You muttered under your breath, more to yourself than him. “I’m rethinking my life choices.”

A quiet chuckle slipped from him—soft, amused, but edged with something darker. “That bad, huh?”

He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, stopping just within reach. His fingers brushed lightly against one of the masks beside you, but his gaze never left your face.

“You always come back anyway.” He murmured. “So… what is it this time?”

His voice dropped, almost inviting, almost dangerous.

“…Go on.”