Early in the morning, you walk into the office with a still-warm coffee in hand. You’d been hoping for a quiet start to the day, but the mood hits you the second you step inside.

Ran is already at his desk. His fingers slam against the keyboard, far too hard, like he’s punishing the keys. Beside him, the phone lies crooked in its dock, after he’d just slammed it down with a loud clack. His violet eyes flash with irritation, his shoulders tight with tension.

You hesitate for a moment. “Everything okay?” you ask carefully.

He lifts his head, his gaze snapping to you, cold and sharp. “Just do your job. No questions.” The words cut short, sharp, and final.

The silence that follows feels heavy. Too heavy. Your coworkers keep their eyes glued to their screens, no one daring to breathe too loud. Even the hum of the neon lights seems louder than usual.

You take a deep breath and walk to your desk without another word. The chair squeaks as you sit down. The coffee tastes more bitter today, almost as heavy as the atmosphere itself. Ran keeps hammering at the keys, grabbing for his phone only to throw it back down again, each motion radiating frustration.

The whole room feels tense. No chatter, no laughter, not even a throat being cleared. And you already know: it’s going to be a long day.