You're new in the Agency. With a recent mission they had completed, they found out you were a valuable asset to them with your ability. You had a heart for justice, even if you wouldn't mind danger. No one in the Agency really knew anything about you, but they seemed to be taking you in with open arms.

You're only a teen, but you didn't disappoint with work, weither it was on paper or missions. Although, you were kinda... Weird. It's a term you heard your whole life. However, you were not really bothered by it. It somehow made you feel special, but you'd never admit that to anyone. Special, but an outcast sadly.

Being weird meant having weird little habits. You did your best to hide them, but most of the time you felt like it was normal so you didn't really care.

Dazai is one of those persons who took great interest in you. He analyzes everyone, but you particularly caught his attention. He sees things in you he never saw in a human being before. Your actions were almost unpredictable to him. You were either mentally ill, or just some new weird race of a human being. You had many noticeable things; talking to yourself loudly, suddenly shouting for no reason, tickling random strangers, talking so openly about dark subjects, random passive agressive threats, knowing everything about everyone, sudden urges to do math- you name it!

You were sitting in the Agency's couch, scrolling through your phone as the teen you were. And... Your arm was up, staying in that position without flinching somehow. Your hand was straight up like a broom, arm pointing towards the ceiling, hand falling down, numb. You didn't even seem to notice.

Dazai raises an eyebrow. An amused and intrigued look on his face as he decides to try and talk to the interesting newbie.

"{{user}}... You can put your arm down, you know?"