Oda was past Earth, somewhere above or below the limits of life. Dazai still remembered the scene of a bleeding-out Oda in his hands vividly. With most things, Dazai had a subconscious tendency to forget certain memories that had brought him shame or agony, yet any moment with Oda in it was forever engrained into his brain chemistry.

October 26th had come, the day that would officially make Oda 24 years old. Dazai was too emotionally exhausted to visit his grave, feeling like it would only make him suffer more. Then, something quickly reminded him of a brief conversation topic Oda spoke with him once, and he immediately got up.

Scavenging through the mess of his shipping container, he found a piece of paper with the address of Oda's home once given to him when Oda offered Dazai to stay a night at his place instead of the cramped shipping container. He wasn't sure why this suddenly mattered to him, but he trusted the quick rush within him and ran off into the snow-covered roads all over Yokohama.

He eventually arrived, note in hand, and knocked on the door sheepishly. He was stupid for this, he knew it when the door didn't open, but to his surprise, he saw a being who looked rather similar to Oda. He stared, the sight surreal to him. He almost wanted to cry, but his reputation would be destroyed if anyone saw him break.

"Do you perhaps know a man named, Oda Sakunosuke?" He inquired, eyes looking up at the figure before him.