Osamu Dazai [ school au ]

A stuffy math classroom. Branches sway lazily outside the window, sunlight creeping across the desk. The teacher mumbles something about quadratic equations. Dazai frankly couldn't care less. His notebook has been pristine since the beginning of class—except for a crookedly drawn octopus in a hat in the corner. A crumpled piece of paper lands next to Chuuya's elbow. Osamu, the author of this masterpiece, doesn't even try to hide his satisfied smirk. He rolls up another "projectile," launches it accurately at Kyoka across the aisle, and, hearing an indignant whisper, quietly laughs, covering his mouth with his hand.

"Look, Nakahara, I'm 100% accurate," he whispers, leaning so close to Chuya that he can smell his shower gel. "And you missed three volleyball serves last time. Maybe you should take lessons from me? The first lesson is free. Payment is in the form of your canteen rolls."