Kunikida did not like Dazai.
He did not like Dazai when he first met him. He did not like him when they started working together. And he sure as hell didn't like him now.
"But Kunikida-kun," said idiot drawled, slouched over his staff room desk in a way no self respecting teacher should slouch. "This would go so much faster if you'd just correct the papers for me."
Kunikida's eyebrow twitched dangerously. On a usual day this would be when he threw the moron across the room, but he'd spotted two students talking to Ranpo-san a few tables away, and such violence was not for the eyes of children.
"We don't even teach the same subject," he growled.
Dazai hummed, making a big show of thinking about it. Then he brightened up. "Tanizaki-kun!" He called across the room.
Tanizaki looked up from his books.
"You teach humanities too, riiight? Would you grade these papers for me?"
Eyes of children be damned. Kunikida grabbed Dazai by his collar and threw him out of his chair in one fluid motion, kicking him halfway across the room for good measure.
No one in the room even looked at him. (Except for the students, who looked quite scarred.
Watching your math teacher beat someone up could do that to a person.) Tanizaki continued reading like nothing had happened at all.
Dazai, reduced to a mere splat on the floor, dared to laugh, his voice muffled by the ground.
Kunikida stepped on him. "The report cards. Need to be printed. Tomorrow."
"That's tomorrow," Dazai said, still muffled by the carpet.
"AND YOU HAVE A HUNDRED PAPERS TO CORRECT!" He waved his notebook in the air, even though Dazai couldn't see it. "Everyone else has followed the schedule! We were supposed to be done TWO DAYS AGO!"
Dazai looked unimpressed. "Well, that's stupid. If the due date is tomorrow, then shouldn't it be tomorrow? You make people work too much, Kunikida-kun."
"Work too much? You've done absolutely nothing all day!"
Dazai shrugged. "I managed to find the papers I was supposed to grade."
"…they were missing before?"
"Yup!"
Tanizaki quickly led the students to the door.
Dazai-sensei's teaching methods were…unique, to say the least. Atsushi wasn't sure if he agreed with them or not.
Dazai himself was a horribly unique man. He waltzed into class one day, wrapped in bandages up to his neck, skipped attendance, skipped any sort of introduction, and started abruptly with -
"How much blood do you need to lose before you die?"
(Though Atsushi was more creeped by the fact that Akutagawa knew the freaking answer.)
He taught them humanities. Well, he was supposed to. In truth he taught them a little bit of everything, from the mating rites of camels to the best ways to get on Kunikida-sensei's nerves (which, if Atsushi dared to follow, would get him expelled and possibly imprisoned). And sometimes he didn't teach them at all. Sometimes he settled at his desk with a book in his hand (he never let then see the title) and told them all to do whatever they pleased.
Sometimes he didn't even turn up for days together. Their substitute teachers could never tell them why, but they always looked resigned and somewhat exasperated.
"Surprise test!" Dazai-sensei called out today, happily, waving a stack of papers in the air as he came into the room. His coat hung loosely on his shoulders.
Everyone groaned in unison. (Except Akutagawa. He just glared. Atsushi sort of hated him.)
"I want you all to write an essay on what you would sacrifice to save the world."
"Eh?"
"No questions. Write about whatever comes to mind."
He handed out the papers, and just as quickly as he came in, turned to leave.
"Er…isn't this a test?" A kid asked hesitantly. "Shouldn't you…watch us?"
Dazai-sensei smiled. "No need!" His coat swished behind him as he left.
There was a confused sort of silence that followed.
"Teenagers are amusing," Dazai said, lying down on the sofa and holding up papers to read.
"What did you make them do this time?" Ranpo asked, looking at a blue marble. He was sitting on top of his desk, books and papers abandoned. Kunikida was no where to be seen.
"One kid here…Nakajima Atsushi, has proclaimed that he'd give everything he has for the sake of our world." Dazai shuffled his papers. "Another kid…Kenji? has written a detailed account about saving the farms and how the truth will get us there." He shuffled the papers some more. "And Akutagawa-kun argues that the world isn't worth saving at all."
Tanizaki looked up, worried. "You can't give him a pass grade for that, can you?"
Dazai smiled. "But it's a really good argument," he said.
"I don't think you understand what your job is," Ranpo said, not actually caring.
Dazai shrugged, put the papers down, and put an arm under his head before falling asleep right there on the couch.
"Can he sleep here?" Tanizaki asked, knowing that the answer was a no. Ranpo tilted his marble in the light and didn't say anything.
Akutagawa didn't like school, and it was really as simple as that. Getting an education didn't interest him. Making friends didn't interest him. Call him what you will, a freak, an outcast, a social disaster - Akutagawa couldn't care less.
Most people knew not to bother him. Well, there was always that idiot Atsushi who kept initiating pathetic fist fights ("how dare you throw away Kyouka's food", "how dare you make Haruno cry", "blah blah blah") , which usually ended with both of them sulking in the infirmary while Yosano-sensei patched them up and Kunikida-sensei threw a fit.
But then there was Dazai-sensei.
Most teachers were wary around him. Even Kunikida, which was saying something. But Dazai -
- Dazai was the only person who dared to laugh at him.
Akutagawa didn't like being laughed at. Anyone who dared to (for being too skinny or too pale or for his weird black coat) was quickly and quietly introduced to a large amount of pain.
But Dazai knew he couldn't lay his hands on a teacher, and he made sure to rub that in Akutagawa's face, if the glint in his eye was anything to go by.
The man was late to class today, as always. Akutagawa glared at the blackboard, ignoring the idiots around him. Atsushi glanced at him sideways, frowning. He ignored him too.
Fifteen minutes after the bell, Dazai-sensei waltzed into class like he'd been right on time.
"Good morning, good morning!" The man smiled, waving a bandaged hand in the air. (That was another thing. What the hell was with the bandages?) He looked around at everyone. The class tittered nervously, probably deciding on who would ask the man where he had been.
Dazai tapped the table a few times. "Naomi-chan, please wake Kenji-kun up. Oh, Atsushi-kun, new haircut!"
Atsushi managed a sheepish smile. Akutagawa scowled.
"And Akutagawa-kun," Dazai continued, narrowing in on him. "You failed my last paper."
The nervous titters grew louder. Dazai paid them no heed. "It was an interesting view point, no doubt," he said, chuckling a bit, "But unfortunately I teach humanities and not terrorism. So, a zero for you. But as a special favour I'll let you read it out to the class."
Akutagawa felt his ears go red, from anger or shame he wasn't sure.
He thought of refusing, but that would make him look weak. So he stood up and took the paper, ignoring Dazai's too smug smile.
"I would not sacrifice anything for the sake of the world because I don't believe the world should even be saved," he started, not able to keep the anger from his voice.
"Go on," Dazai said.
He did. The class grew quiet and unconfortable. Dazai's smile never wavered, not even when Akutagawa slammed his paper on the table and stalked out of the room, only half finished with the reading.
Dazai shrugged. "That's that," he said. "Now, let's talk about feminism."
On the bright side, Kunikida thought, most people didn't like Dazai.
(Except for the women in the cafeteria.)
(And the women in the office.)
(And in the library…)
(But Kunikida wouldn't count them, because their feelings made no sense to him.)
So, most people didn't like Dazai. And that made perfect sense, because Dazai was an annoying brat who deserved to succeed at his suicide attempts and die. What he doesn't understand is why Principle Fukuzawa lets him be.
And it's not like he hadn't tried asking. But when asked, Fukuzawa simply says that Dazai is a valuable asset to the school. And Kunikida always wanted to scream HOW? HOW? but he respected the Principal too much to do so.
If the Principal believed it, it must be true. But Kunikida found that hard to believe when he opened a trash can and…found Dazai in it.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaghaha!"
"Good morning, Kunikida-kun!" Dazai smiled brightly. "Don't you have a class right now?"
"I have a class? You haven't been to school in three days and I find you in a trash can!?" It shouldn't have shocked him. He should be used to this by now. He'd once found Dazai trying to get himself buried with leftover manure.
"Well, you know, I heard that such closed, compact places were the best places to suffocate to death!"
"I'll suffocate you myself, you - " Kunikida hit him over the head with the trash can lid and grabbed his throat, shaking him. Dazai looked too happy for a person being strangled. "Do you know how many people had to work overtime to substitute for your classes? And the TEST, did you forget you'd set a test? And you're already lagging behind on your syllabus and -"
"You're too loud, Kunikida-kun," Dazai complained, pushing his hands away, grabbing the trash can lid, and shutting himself back in.
Kunikida swore he was going to get an ulcer because of this brat. He kicked the can over for good measure before stomping back to the staff room, seething, the muffled 'oomf' from inside the can doing nothing to soothe his nerves.
'Valuable asset', what a joke.
Yosano had been on campus for five years, and she was yet to see anyone who frequented the infirmary as often as Dazai.
The funny thing was that he never even needed her help. He'd just drop by with his bandages streaked with fresh blood, chat with her a bit, pick up a roll of bandages and some ointment, and leave. Needless to say he wasted a heck of a lot of their money, because of course he didn't pay for the bandages.
He never came in without a smile on his face, and his chatter never failed to be enthusiastic and fascinating (though often a bit annoying).
But after three days of going AWOL, he walked in with no emotion on his face. His bandages looked old and bloody, and were unravelling in several places.
"Well, someone looks upset," Yosano said, raising an eyebrow. Dazai forced a smile in return, rummaging through her boxes for a fresh roll of bandages. Once he found it, he turned heel and left as quickly as he came in.
She crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. "Well," she sighed to herself. She wasn't concerned about him - the man had frightful survival instincts - but something was off today.
Tanizaki thought a bit. "Two hundred yen and a bookmark saying he got caught in a fight with the mafia."
Kunikida frowned. 'We're betting on this now?"
Tanizaki shrugged. "He doesn't like pain, and he's been cut up pretty badly. It must have been in a fight."
Kunikida rubbed his nose. "But why the Mafia?"
Tanizaki shrugged again. "It just seems like…he'd go for the cooler bad guys?"
Kunikida sighed heavily, continuing to type. "You have too much time. Finish some paper work."
Tanizaki shuffled through the papers on his desk, looking for something to do. "What do you think, Kunikida-san?"
He'd found him in a trash can the previous day, and hadn't seen him till a few hours ago today. Tanizaki was right, he did look pretty beat up.
"He must have stuck his nose in someone else's business and they gave him what he deserved," was Kunikida's decree. They couldn't waste time worrying about Dazai - then they'd be worrying away their whole lives.
"What do you think, Ranpo-san?" Tanizaki asked.
Ranpo smirked, staring at his marble. "That would be telling," he said. "Let Dazai keep his secrets."
Dazai came in just then, grinning just like he always was. Kunikida felt a headache brewing already.
"Kunikida-kun! The Principal wants to see you!" He said in greeting.
"Oh." Kunikida stopped his work instantly, picking up his notebook and heading for the Principal's office. Once he was safely out of earshot, Ranpo spoke up.
"…he wasn't actually called, was he."
"Of course not!" Dazai plopped on the couch, stretched out his legs and closed his eyes, relaxed.
"Dazai-san, where were you this week?" Tanizaki asked, cautious.
Dazai smiled lazily, eyes still closed. "Many places. Why do you ask?"
"Well, you're…uh…" Tanizaki scratched his head uncomfortably.
"I got into a bar fight, if that's what you mean." Dazai looked at his bandages. "All for the pretty waitress there. But she still didn't want to die with me…so unfair…"
Surprisingly, not even Tanizaki fell for that this time. "…you tell us this story at least once a month."
"Is that so?" Dazai made a big deal of thinking. Then he shrugged and went back to sleep.
When they heard Kunikida screaming bloody murder in the distance, he smirked sleepily.
...I'm not very sure where this is heading yet.
Reviews are appreciated.