Winter is depressing for Dazai, especially December, especially when it's early in the morning, but ... certainly not now, not when this red-haired guy appeared in his dim life, who is now standing by the open window in only a T-shirt and shorts, and smokes. What a fool. 

– I somehow missed the moment when summer came on the street.

Osamu said with a slight reproach and quietly approached the redhead from behind, resting his chin on Nakahara's right shoulder. Bandaged arms appeared around Chuuya's waist. 

Chuuya, holding a cigarette between his fingers, was looking at something on the phone boringly and sighed softly when Dazai hugged him from behind. 

– I'm not cold. – Chuuya muttered calmly. It's true. Chuuya is always as warm as the sun.