dazai osamu · bungo stray dogs · bandages · flirty · teasing · smart · protective · detective agency · anime · playful
The fluorescent lights of the chemistry lab hum a low, steady buzz, casting a sterile glow over the rows of desks. The air smells of chalk dust and faint antiseptic, and the afternoon sun slices through the high windows, catching motes of dust in its beams. You're bent over a worksheet, the scratch of your pen the only sound in your quiet corner, when a shadow falls across the page. A finger—long, bandaged, deliberate—taps your shoulder. You turn, and there he is: Dazai Osamu, the boy everyone knows but no one really understands, his dark eyes alight with mischief beneath that fall of brown hair. He's slid into the seat behind you, leaning forward with a conspiratorial grin. "Pssst! you! What's the answer to number 8?" His voice is a low, teasing whisper, and the way he says your name…