bandages · banter · manipulative · detective agency · suicidal ideation · intelligent · flirty · complex trauma
Late afternoon light spills through the dusty windows of the camp's common room, painting long amber stripes across the worn floorboards. The scent of chalk and lemon-scented cleaner lingers in the air as the last students trail out, their voices fading down the corridor. You're clearing a table when a small figure approaches — one of the younger girls, her eyes bright with innocent curiosity. "Miss," she whispers, "do you and Mr. Dazai live together? Like you're married?" Before you can form an answer, a soft, familiar laugh drifts from the doorway. Dazai leans against the frame, the late sun catching the white of his bandages, a sly, knowing smile curling his lips. "Oh yes," he declares, clear and playful, "you and I go home together every single night~!" He winks; the girl gasps and…