One last chance

Work, work and also work

'I am sitting almost three hours in front of the computer and I didn't find anything related to what I'm looking for', the young man with steely observed eyes thought in his head after he slummed it on the desk, his left hand hanging like jello next to his side while the other was still attached to the mouse. 'I should be outside and observe how things are going, but the executive gave me the initiative to go on with this case, so I'm not going to control things outside Sawara until its finish. Instead, he sent another employee to take care of the situations...Fucking asshole... I told him that -"

"Here's your coffee Yokozawa-san!", his train of thoughts interrupted by a slightly chirped manly voice, who bent in order to put the coffee next to his head, an arm's length approximately. He turned his head by the time the coffee's aroma started to captivate his nostrils, making him relax and forgetting about why he was rather...indignant.

"Yokozawa-san, are you alright?", the other man asked, gaining from the guard a dull look decorating his beautiful eyes. The still standing employee hold his breath as if he woke up the dragon from its slumber, making the dark blue haired man roll his eyes in boredom.

"Relax Henmi, I am fine. You don't have to act like you woke up the dragon from its slumber", he said, raising his head from the desk and wiping the tiredness from his face with his palm.

"Then why do you seem like you haven't been sleeping for about days?"

"Its because of this fucking case..."

"I'm just wondering -"

"You know what?", the dashing guard ask, pointing his index finger to Henmi and interrupting the young man from continuing his talk. "I've decided to take care of this case, but I said to the executive that I'm going to look after Sawara while I'm busy with this shit. Nevertheless HE thought it's best not to interact with two things at the same time because HE thinks that I am going to fuck up with everything! 6 YEARS! I'VE BEEN WORKING IN THIS POLICE DEPARTMENT FOR 6 FUCKING YEARS AND YET HE DOESN'T TRUST ME!"

"A-aaano, Y-Yokozawa-san -"

"I DON'T CARE IF THIS CASE IS IMPORTANT TO ME, BUT I'M NOT WILLING TO SPEND MY DAYS HERE IN THE OFFICE WHILE ANOTHER EMPLOYEE DOES THE JOB THAT I SHOULD DO!!", he said while holding the file with one hand, waving it in front of Henmi and then throwing it on the desk some inches before its fall. He combed his hair, walking to and fro nervously and taking heavy breaths. Looking at him, you could understand that in seconds he was going to explode like a grenade. In 3...2...1-

"FUCK!!!", he yelled, slamming his fists on the desk and making the contains of the mug rise from the power. The workers that had been sitting on their desks without being heard and focusing on the computers were now watching Yokozawa in terror, theirs hands on the keyboard without tapping it.

It was the first time in years that they see the rampaging bear react like this, even though they knew how he behaves in difficult situations. It was something unknown and yet terrifying to see him in his limits because you never know what he is capable of. For a moment, everyone was standing as if they were statues that, if rocked, would signify their condemnation with the monster looking for its prey to devour. It was a scary scene to watch, but fortunately everything came back to normal when the executive appeared just in time before their doom.

"Fellas, I am going to a meeting wiiiiiith-", he stopped by the time he raised his head and saw the employees watching him with eyes that could be read as a 'help us' sign. His phone was on his hand, the screen opened, showing the contacts, indicating that he was ready to call someone. He turned his look to see the dashing young guard, his fists still on the desk and his eyes covered by his bangs.

You could hear a murmur coming from his mouth, but his breaths were much louder that you couldn't hear what exactly was saying. Nevertheless, they catch words and phrases such as 'fuck', 'can't do this anymore' and 'I want to kill that son of the bitch'. The middle aged man scratched his lightly unshaved beard with one hand, supported by the other hand on the elbow that holds his phone, his eyebrow raised in question and his lips pursed in a thin line. His yellow eyes scanned the young man from head to toe carefully in order to understand why he was behaving like this.