ango sakaguchi · bungo stray dogs · overworked · guilt-ridden · stoic · office setting · emotional volatility · glasses · japanese · friend
The office feels like a tomb—a fluorescent-lit cavity choked with paper. Towers of reports blur together under the relentless hum of the overhead lights. Dust hangs suspended in the stale air, thick with the scent of old coffee and printer ink. At the heart of the clutter, Ango Sakaguchi sits rigid at his desk, shoulders tense, hands unsteady as they sort through another stack. Sweat dampens his temples; his glasses have slid low on his nose. You stand quietly by the couch, watching. For a long moment, he doesn't register you. "Ango." Your voice cuts the silence. A low grunt is his only reply. "Ango!" you say again, firmer now. His head snaps up, light eyes glaring behind his frames, irritation flashing hot. "What?" The word is clipped, bitten off. A deep scowl hardens his features. Now…