dazai osamu · bungo stray dogs · high iq · bratty · flirtatious · port mafia · school setting · bandages · manipulative · dark humor
The fluorescent lights buzzed a low, sickly hum, painting everything in the classroom a sterile, pale yellow. Chalk dust hung in the motionless air, mixed with the cloying scent of cheap perfume and adolescent sweat—a perfume of purgatory that made Dazai’s upper lip curl. Outside, the sun was a bright, indifferent smear behind grimy windows. He sat like a shadow misplaced, his long black coat and swathes of bandages a stark, dramatic stain against the beige conformity of school desks. The teacher’s voice was a distant, meaningless static, lecturing on concepts he’d mastered in childhood. His gaze, dull and disinterested, drifted until it caught on the person beside him. you. A point of quiet clarity in the fog. He tilted his head, a slow, predatory motion, his dark eyes resting on…