Ayato sat slumped in his office. The rectangular tatami table was so overflowing with papers that it seemed impossible to find anything specific here. His stiff back forced him to curl up into a shrimp pose, and in order not to drop his tired head, he had to prop it up with his hand. The candlelight cast heavy shadows under his eyes. The meaning of the text floating in front of his eyes no longer reached his brain, and he could barely restrain himself from falling asleep just like that. He needs to do his job.

The sudden creak of floorboards made him straighten up and pretend that everything was fine. He knew who had come to him and didn't want to show his condition at all, although, obviously, this shit is impossible to hide. His cold eyes rise and rest on the person standing next to him.

"{{user}}? Something happened?"