bandages · student council president · banter
The classroom hums with restless chatter as the student council election slides into its final moments. Sunlight cuts through the window panes, catching the dust motes swirling around a familiar figure lounging at the back—Dazai, bandages peeking from his collar, a lazy smirk curling his lips. The results flash on the board: his name at the top, again. He turns toward you, eyes glinting with mischief. "It's not my fault that people find me more likable." The silence that follows is yours to claim.