Mr. Do Nothing

[ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕦𝕖] Oda

May 26th, 11:25 PM

Yokohama, Sakaguchi's Apartment

Ango Sakaguchi was an exemplary employee.

Or at least, he was by corporate definition. Which was to say his impressive performance was the result of the most unhealthy working habits known to man.

Excessive overtime, unpaid side tasks, rumor had it he had even shown up to work in what was essentially a full body cast. Glasses pushed up the bridge of his nose, pen in hand, muttering something about 'blackmail' and 'Dazai-kun'.

But the worst of it had to be the late nights. No one ever left the office before Ango. No one ever came in before he did. Worries about his ability to perform under such physical strain had been voiced before. However, they never got very far. No matter the predicament, he still produced results. Sure, his hands would shake, but his actual work remained neat and tidy. And yeah, he sometimes got jittery, but his anxiety was never visible to the wrong people. And so what if some nights he took longer to gather his bearings?

He never did something as ludicrous as straight up hallucinate.

He was who they needed him to be, forever and always.

Well, that was, except for tonight.

There was something different about tonight.

Which oddly enough, seemed to stem from the fact that Ango was headed home early for once. Another department was late with their files, so there had been nothing else for him to do other than return home, where he was now climbing up the carpeted stairs to his apartment.

Perhaps it was because his usual rhythm had been interrupted, because an unnatural tiredness began to clog up his senses. It was one that he had only brushed before -- where his eyes pulsed in his skull and body ached dully.

The disorientation was just a little too much, even for him. Which was probably why when he finally got the door open, he wasn't entirely surprised by what was waiting for him.

On a stool by the kitchenette, Sakunosuke Oda was leafing through an old newspaper, curry colored coat draped on the counter and the top two buttons of his striped shirt open in a casual sort of way. He didn't acknowledge Ango as he stepped inside, nor look up as the other man struggled a bit with the lock, and then some more with his shoes.

He simply sat there in the pale orange glow of the kitchenette, still and lazily enough to pass for something like an oil painting. Or a sepia toned photograph.

Ango who was still seeing file numbers and call codes in his retina, hung up his coat and nodded briskly in the hallucination's direction, "You can't smoke in here, Sakunosuke."

As if by the mere act of speaking to it, hallucination Oda was suddenly animated. He jumped, hurriedly taking the cigarette out of his mouth and snuffing out its ember nub in an otherwise unused and mostly decorative ashtray. He smiled sheepishly up at Ango as the Special Divisions officer passed by to get a glass from the cabinet.

"Sorry, my bad." He said, "I keep on forgetting."

Ango tipped the mouth of his glass against the fridge dispenser, watching as cool water filled it up. It occurred to him, rather dimly, that the lights he had apparently left on here were what provoked this slight of his own mind. That something as simple as that was enough to send even a man as unimaginative as himself into delusion.

If he were any more awake, this might have all meant something to him.

Ango quietly closed his eyes, trying to focus on the sound of the water dispenser.