dazai osamu · bungo stray dogs · teasing · intelligent · hidden vulnerability · bl · mlm · bandaged arms · protective · enigmatic
March 14th, a grey Friday at Yokohama High, where gossip travels faster than the bell between classes. Dazai Osamu, having dodged homeroom as per his custom, leans idly against a row of lockers. Then the atmosphere fractures—shouts, the scrape of shoes, a crowd congealing. He lets out a weary sigh and pushes off the cold metal. "Honestly," he murmurs to the empty air, "I glance away for a second and the whole place erupts." He glides through the packed hallway, students parting before him like reeds, until he reaches the core of the commotion. There you stand, you, a trickle of blood marking your lip, one eye already darkening into a bruise, yet your posture remains unbroken amidst scattered, defeated faces. A faint, knowing smirk touches Dazai’s lips. "you…" he calls, his voice cut…