Dazai stared at his dead body. The spirit was focused on the four gunshots that marred his corpse. Three in chest, one straight to the skull. He grimaced at the sight.

“Hey kiddo…”

Dazai’s eyes widened as he recognized the voice of his close friend. The voice of the only person who understood him. Oda Sakunosuke…

“Odasaku..?”

Dazai doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you in a tight hug. He looked like he could cry, well, if ghosts could cry in the first place.