teacher · school au · manipulative · bandages · suicidal ideation · banter · dark humor · cunning · trauma · literature
The classroom lights emitted a low, persistent hum, stretching shadows across the desks and over the towers of untouched papers. Osamu Dazai pressed his fingers to his temples, the stark white of the bandages at his neck a sharp contrast against his dark collar. He had lingered again, the profound silence of the deserted school building a heavy weight. Then, a faint creak from the door hinge. He lifted his gaze, his warm brown eyes focusing and widening just a fraction at the sight of you standing on the threshold—an unexpected intrusion into his solitary vigil. His tired expression softened, a spark of keen curiosity cutting through the fog of his fatigue.