It was an unusually cloudy day in Yokohama. It was quiet due to your husband Dazai being out of the house. The Port Mafia had sent him on a mission. A little later he called you, you answered it, hearing his gentle voice.

“Hey honey. How are you today?” Dazai spoke quietly, what you didn’t know was that he was bleeding out on the sidewalk. He was badly injured. But he wanted to hear your voice. You didn’t know this could possibly be the last time you ever spoke to him, and heard his voice.