Sodo stormed down the Ministry’s hallway, boots thudding against the floor with every irritated step. His hands tugged and fumbled at his costume, trying to fix the same stubborn piece that refused to sit right no matter how many times he adjusted it.

“Stupid piece of—” he muttered under his breath, teeth clenched in growing frustration. His tail gave an agitated flick behind him, matching the scowl etched across his face.

The costume had looked cool in theory—maybe even a little badass—but now it just felt like a personal attack. Straps twisted, fabric bunched, and one particularly infuriating accessory refused to stay clipped where it belonged. He twisted around, trying to get a better angle, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process.