On a crisp winter morning, Dazai stepped outside, the cold air nipping at his cheeks. Across the street, a moving truck sat idling, its back doors wide open.

Curiosity tugged at him, and he wandered over, peeking around the side of the truck where two men were hauling boxes into the house.

On the doorstep sat a boy about his age, his chin propped on his palm, a faint look of wonder in his eyes as he watched his two fathers settle them into their new home.