Osamu Dazai, dead at twenty-two. A son. A friend. A partner. A ghost.
Chuuya hasn't been the same since.
He wears Dazai's hoodies. Sleeps on his side of the bed. Keeps his things untouched.
And sometimes-at 2 a.m., brushing his teeth or doing laundry-he sees him again. Laughing. Talking. Pouring milk in a bowl of rice.
Everyone says grief is a process.
But no one warned Chuuya it would come with hallucinations that remember how he liked his tea.
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I'm not tellin' you what happens! You have to read for yourself to find out.