The origin and purpose of Dazai's bandages were a mystery to the Armed Detective Agency. That information had been disclosed to no-one – not even Kunikida, who was arguably Dazai's closest ally. The company had created a few theories ranging from a past suicide attempt, a strange fashion statement, or even a way to control his ability. Dazai neither denied nor verified these theories, so it was no surprise when Atsushi decided to dig up the truth.
In an awkward manner, of course.
"Dazai?"
Atsushi's wavering voice called out to thin air. He gripped the wooden door frame of the Agency's office so tight it left ridges in his skin. He had been in the process of leaving for the day, but a question ensnared every thought: a question that the whole Agency had been pondering over for months.
"What... What are your bandages for?"
Dazai appeared from behind his book, expression blank yet thoughtful. "Why do you ask, Atsushi?" he said, a slight frown shading his features.
Atsushi breathed in, desperately avoiding eye contact. "I was just curious. I'm sorry to be a bother, you don't have to tell me if you'd rather -"
Atsushi paused, slipping further behind the door frame. Dazai had put down his book. Staring steadily at his hands, his slender fingers traced his bandaged forearms. Dark, curled strands of hair covered his eyes but Atsushi still felt the weight of Dazai's gaze as his superior rested his hands on the desk.
"Yet another secret." Dazai laughed softly, a glint of cunning in his eyes. Atsushi swallowed the lump in his dry throat and considered making a run for it – a cunning Dazai was never a good sign. But despite himself, he took a step into the office. Dazai's eyes followed every move.
"Atsushi, did anyone ever tell you that you move like a cat?"
Atsushi froze. "Not really?" he said, stuttering and tugging at his hair.
It was then that Dazai began to unwind the bandages that hid his skin from view. Atsushi counted each full circle – one, two, three, until a length of bandage dangled from Dazai's pale, half-bare forearm. He lifted his arm up to give a better view and began to let the stray bandage sway to and fro. Atsushi watched the movement like a predator watching prey and Dazai knew he was fighting an urge by the look of determination Atsushi had.
"How about a game of cat and bandage?"
Dazai grinned, feigning innocence. Atsushi's eyes widened as his tail lashed out from his lower back. Claws burst forth from his fingernails and he lunged at the swaying bandage. Dazai leapt out of his chair and darted across the office, Atsushi's nails grazing his wrist. "Be careful with those claws," he called. Atsushi was already chasing, swatting and swiping and even letting out a small meow. Dazai had to stop himself from rubbing the tiger behind the ear and instead unwound more of his bandages – to avoid being scratched by a careless Atsushi.
And that, dear reader, is how Atsushi discovered the purpose of Dazai's bandages. Well, one of their uses, anyway.