Summary: Ougai Mori—Yokohama's most infamous underground doctor—is a formidable genius with a reputation on the same level as the Port Mafia's. His clientele and contacts range from the aforementioned Port Mafia to the Japanese government's Special Abilities Department. Ougai Mori's least known trait is his proclivity to somewhat accidentally adopt children with special abilities. Dad!Mori.

An Encouragement of Learning

—Yukichi Fukuzawa

Osaka, Japan

There was the metallic scraping sound of a key being inserted into a keyhole. The lock clicked and the door of the hotel room opened, closing soon after.

Yosano groaned and lifted her head from the pillow. She glanced at the clock between the room's two beds, it was seven in the morning. It was the time she usually got up at the base, but that didn't mean she liked it.

"I have breakfast," Mori announced, dully. In his hands was a cup of coffee, the rich scent pouring into the room along with the smell of baked goods from the bag in his other hand. He sat down at the small table.

Yosano got up. She peeked around his shoulders at the table. After a look at Mori's face, she snagged a small loaf of puffy bread from the bag.

Mori was nibbling on a cookie filled with red bean paste. It went well with his coffee.

Yosano sat in the other chair. She smiled as she ate a loaf of bread smeared with jam; it was good, soft enough that it melted in her mouth. She scrutinized Mori for a few minutes before asking. "Why are we heading to Yokohama? Isn't Tokyo right next to it?" Her voice held a trace of suspicion.

"Yes," Mori admitted. "But the government won't think to look for us there. And if they do, I have many contacts among the underground in that area." He gestured towards his medical bag. "A lot of criminals owe me their lives or their friend's lives."

XXX

Yokohama, Japan

Mori strolled down the street. His briefcase brushed against the side of his thigh with every step. The concrete sidewalk beneath his feet was cracked, weeds valiantly struggling through the slivers to bask in the sunlight.

Yosano trailed behind. She picked one of the dandelions growing in the concrete.

Walking beside Yosano, Elise carried Yosano's bag and Mori's medical bag. She watched as Yosano blew on the dandelion flower, spreading the white seeds out into the woods.

They came to a house. The windows were clouded with dust and the paint on the wooden door was peeling—the doorknob was rusted.

Mori pulled out a key hidden in a brick of the porch steps. He used it to unlock the door and stepped inside. He flicked the light switch, smiling in satisfaction as the foyer lights turned on with a warm hum. "It's a bit dusty, and might have some bugs by now, but it's safe."

"What is this place?" Yosano asked.

"My old base of operations." Mori headed further in, heading for the living room.

Yosano swept her gaze around the room. The wooden panels were weathered from age, but sturdy. The decor and furniture was sparse yet well chosen. "What'd you use this place for?"

Mori ran his hand down the side of the worn, living room couch. He pulled it away, finding his hand covered in dust. "Treating criminals for some extra cash. Before I joined the military, I was a doctor, never joined any official practice but had lots of experience and my license." He turned around. "Over the next few days, we'll be cleaning the place up."

Yosano's eyes narrowed. "And?"

"You'll be starting your education here. I know you struggle with most kanji, so we'll start there."

"I don't struggle," Yosano insisted.

"Right," Mori easily agreed. So easily it was obvious he was only playing along.

"Hey!"

In the next few days, they heard that the Great War was at an end. The governments of the world were entering negotiations.

XXX

"Why take me with you?"

"Why run?"

Yosano asked those two questions often.

"Yamashita was going to take over the project the next day. He has too much power and interest not to," Mori replied. It was all he would say on the matter.

Yosano would keep interrogating the doctor until she had the full answer.

XXX

Mori sat down at the cafe in the outside section where no one else was willing to sit in the chilly wind. He was here to see someone.

"You're back," the gentleman noted calmly, although not without warmth. He sat down across from Mori. His hair was odd, seemingly dyed three different colors as no one would assume it was natural.

"Yes, I am, Natsume-sensei," Mori affirmed.

Natsume settled his cup and saucer down on the table. He had brought them from the inside section for the cafe. "For good?"

"Possibly."

Natsume smiled. "I heard of the government search, and the change in name that they don't know about. . . . It also caught my interest that they weren't looking for just you."

Mori didn't ask how Natsume got such information. "I defected along with a young ability user," he admitted. He waited for Natsume's judgment.

Curiosity entered Natsume's voice. "Any particular reason why?" He sipped his tea.

Mori related his reasoning in a clear, calculating voice. "She was a part of a project I headed. I. . . did not like the man that was going to usurp my position."

"Not like, or distrust?" Natsume questioned. The line of his mouth straightened into a neutral expression.

Mori's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "He has no love lost for ability users."

Natsume nodded. "I see."

XXX

A Few Months Later

Mori was washing the leftover blood off his arms. He stared as the water merged with the streams of red, turning them a light pink. He definitely needed to sanitize this sink before he did the dishes.

"Why are there so many patients now?" Yosano asked.

Mori clenched the metal sink, keeping himself from flinching. "Turf wars, pretty common for them to break out every few months," he simply replied. He turned around and his eyes narrowed. "Haven't I told you not to go downstairs while we have clients, Yosano-chan?" There were multiple reasons for that rule, from the disturbing noises to the dangerous nature of the clients.

"It's fine," Yosano brushed off. But at Mori's stern look, she wilted. "Alright, I'll go back upstairs."

XXX

Natsume noted how exhausted Mori looked. His student was having to fend off attacks on his turf while treating several dozen clients. Mori's popularity among criminals was biting him now with the almost constant turf wars, due to the Port Mafia's hold slowly becoming less stable. Natsume sipped at his tea, thinking.

Mori narrowed his eyes, wondering at the silence of his teacher.

Natsume abruptly suggested, "I know someone you could hire as a bodyguard."

"Who?"

"Yukichi Fukuzawa." A hint of a smile slipped onto Natsume's face.

Mori raised his eyebrows. "The Silver Wolf?" He would be an idiot if he didn't recognize the name.

"He is also one of my students," Natsume revealed. "I can point him in your direction, if you would like?"

XXX

Three Weeks Later

A blood transfer and IV were hooked up, flowing into the crook of the man's elbow. He had been knocked out with anesthesia.

Mori was up to his elbows in red; his latex gloves had already succumbed and started slowly filling with blood. Clamps kept the gaping wound in the man's stomach open. Mori was carefully shifting organs around, searching for the shrapnel. He ignored the gun held to the back of his head.

A blade flashed, slicing through the man holding the gun. The gun was caught before it could hit the ground. The killer wasn't risking the possibility of a misfire.

"Thank you, Fukuzawa-san," Mori chirped. He pulled on a new pair of gloves and continued meticulously searching. He used a pair of sanitized tweezers to pick out two pieces of shrapnel and placed them into a small bowl.

Fukuzawa's eyebrow twitched. He didn't like when Mori acted so cheery. The thanks was sincere, but his instincts told him that the rest of the emotion Mori displayed was fake.

Mori smiled. "Mind helping me?" He wiped the blood that was welling up from the wound.

"To do what?" Fukuzawa cleaned his sword off on the clothes of the man he had just killed.

"Put on a pair of gloves." Mori used his eyes to point to the box of latex gloves on a table nearby.

Fukuzawa sheathed his sword and put on the gloves. "What happened to your patient?"

"This man was close to a shrapnel bomb," Mori informed. He pulled a hand out to point to where he wanted Fukuzawa to hold the wound open. "Some fragments hit him in the stomach, slicing through his skin like paper. He is lucky they didn't nick anything major, like his aorta."

"And if they had?" Fukuzawa asked, morbidly curious.

"I wouldn't have a patient," Mori related matter-of-factly. "He would have been dead before he even got to me."

XXX

Mori sat at the kitchen counter. He was reading. His phone was in his pocket, volume turned down. He kept his ears tuned for knocking at the front door or someone sneaking around the back.

Yosano walked into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes.

"Aren't you supposed to be asleep?" Mori half-heartedly questioned.

Yosano froze. She lifted her eyes to meet Mori's. She looked haunted. Her eyes were dark, and traces of fear were still on her face. She sniffled.

'Yosano-chan had a nightmare,' Mori deduced, putting down his book. He stood up and grabbed a handful of tissues for Yosano, handing them over with a sympathetic look.

Yosano accepted them. In a small voice she asked, "Why?" She almost choked on the word.

It wasn't a new question. Mori didn't need to ask what this was about. He stared down at the child.

Mori sighed. His voice was quiet as he explained, "I was the one who picked up off the streets. I was your commanding officer. I was responsible for what happened to you."

Yosano stayed silent, digesting his answer. She squeezed him in a hug, only able to reach his legs because of her height.

Mori stood like a stone statue, comically frozen and unaware of how to reply to the gesture. He knew that Yosano had refused to touch anyone unless she was healing them. He was similar, only touching his people as he cut, cleaned, and stitched the wounds of his patients. Unsure, he settled a hand on Yosano's head.

XXX

A Few Months Later

"I'm the guardian for a child, now. He is. . . " Fukuzawa struggled for the right words, ". . . smart. A genius. He can solve crimes after one look at the scene."

Mori had heard of the parents. They were famous detectives, it made sense their kid was too. The kid's career path was cemented ever since he was born into the Ranpo family, honestly.

"Trouble is. . ."

"What?" Mori asked, intrigued.

"I lied to him. And now I don't know what to do," Fukuzawa confessed.

Mori blinked in confusion. The ever honest bodyguard. . . lying? He was an expert at catching lies. If Fukuzawa lied around him he would have known immediately, but Fukuzawa never had. Now, Mori was really curious. "What was it about?"

Fukuzawa's face twitched. "I may have told him he had an ability instead of saying he was a genius."

"That is a problem," Mori sympathized. He pulled a metal container off the kitchen counter. The inside was covered in a layer of waxed paper.

"No advice?" Fukuzawa grumpily replied.

Mori smirked at his friend. "Tell the truth?"

Fukuzawa sighed.

Mori put the container of Yosano's cookies on the kitchen counter. They were mishaped blobs. On the top of each was a criss-cross mark made with a fork. "You should introduce him to Yosano-chan sometime," he suggested.

"Yosano-chan?"

"Have you two really not met?" Mori shrugged dismissively. "Must have slipped my mind. Yosano-chan, come down!" He called, moving towards the door to the kitchen.

"What is it?" Yosano skidded to stop in front of Mori, a medical textbook in hand.

'She has black hair and purple eyes like Mori,' Fukuzawa noted. 'Maybe the doctor's relatives are visiting?'

Mori smiled, placing a hand cautiously on top of the girl's head. "Yosano-chan, this is the bodyguard I've told you about. Fukuzawa-dono, this is Yosano-chan, I'm her guardian."

Fukuzawa choked on his cookie. "Daughter?" The thought of his friend fathering children was honestly horrifying.

XXX

The coffee was good, but that was about all Mori could say for this meeting. Well, meeting implied it was voluntary on Mori's part, and this was very much not.

Mori smiled placidly at the Port Mafia Boss. He listened with half an ear, while appearing that he was paying full attention. He would play the part of a meek, subservient doctor as best as possible.

So, what would be a better word for. . .this? Interrogation? No, not exactly. Mori wasn't really being questioned and tortured here. That much was clear.

"My apologies, sir. But I don't quite understand?" Mori asked.

"I hope you aren't this dull when it comes to your field. Otherwise, I will have wasted my time here," the Port Mafia Boss explained. Despite his age, he wasn't experiencing hair loss-his largely grey hair was tied into a long ponytail. "Due to. . . my health, as I had mentioned previously, I have decided to employ a doctor."

'Interview,' Mori decided. A very unwanted interview. "What made you choose me?" His chosen profession and success had once again made him an unfortunately pragmatic choice for those in power. Mori's lips almost twisted bitterly in response to the thought.

"Are you questioning your own qualifications or my informants?" The Boss wondered —his tone was scathing. He was quickly losing his patience.

Mori held up his hands, showing his palms in a gesture of surrender. He sheepishly shrugged. "My apologies, sir. I am an outsider. I am only curious as to why you chose me out of all the doctors in Yokohama."

"You did something some people said was impossible. You created a neutral territory right on our doorstep and kept it up for almost a year now. I was curious to meet you." The Boss smiled slightly. He snuffed his cigarette out on the yew table, leaving a dark circle on the finish.

Mori's eyes were drawn to the action. He couldn't help but think that the mark on the wood looked far too similar to some of the burn wounds he had seen on a client from the Port Mafia.

"Either way, the Port Mafia will be absorbing your place." That was meant as: join us or die.

Mori raised his eyes from the table, sweeping his gaze over the figure of the feared Boss. The older man was gaunt, as seen by how his cheekbones were so prominent. The bags under his were so dark they seemed permanent. Of course, the threat wasn't the Boss's physical capabilities, but the organization he led. And the two men standing nearby with guns, it was hard to forget about them.

Mori's plastered-on smile stretched to make it seem as if he was nervous. He was really irritated, yet his expression gave no hint to his true feelings. "I would be pleased to become your personal doctor, sir."

XXX

Mori decided the only option he had at the moment was lament to Fukuzawa, misery loved company after all. "And that's how I was forcibly pressed into working for the Port Mafia the other day." He sighed. He cast a mournful look out the kitchen window. In five minutes, he had lost his turf and most of the control he had over his life.

Mori straightened up and looked apologetically at his friend. "Ah. . . yes, because of that I won't be needing a bodyguard anymore."

"Unless it's to guard from the Port Mafia itself, of course," Fukuzawa wryly pointed out.

Mori laughed. He hummed suspiciously at the good natured state of his friend. "I have to ask, what have you been up to?"

"I'm planning on opening a detective agency. I'm about to get the Gifted Business Permit," Fukuzawa revealed.

This move was undoubtedly due to Fukuzawa becoming Ranpo's guardian. It was to protect the boy, and perhaps to help other Gifted along with Ranpo. Mori kept these psychological predictions to himself. "Really? Congratulations."

"And I recently enrolled Ranpo in a middle school." Fukuzawa glanced towards the entrance of the kitchen. He carefully asked, "Mori-sensei, have you considered whether Yosano-chan will attend school?"

"I have. She likely will," Mori replied. It was difficult, but not impossible. There were some schools that wouldn't dig too deep into their student's past. Yokohama was a gangster's paradise after all.

XXX

The heat drove the customers to stay inside the cafe. All except Ougai Mori and Soseki Natsume. They bore the uncomfortable heat without complaint, having a private meeting was far more important.

"You are in the perfect position." Natsume carefully watched his student's face.

"Yes," Mori pleasantly agreed. He picked his cup of coffee up. "But I will not."

Natsume recognized the look in Mori's eyes: pure defiance, the type that could push a man to burn down his own house if necessary. "Very well." He set his cup of tea down, nibbling instead on the Turkish delights he had purchased from the cafe.

"I can find you another candidate, however," Mori offered.

"That would be appreciated." Natsume looked at Mori. "Once the Tripartite strategy is in place, what part would you be willing to take in it?"

Mori stayed in a thoughtful silence for a minute. "I am ex-military, currently affiliated with the Port Mafia, and soon will be an independent force again. I have my own contacts in all three. . ."

Natsume nodded, gesturing for his student to go on.

"This position means I am most suited to be a stabilizer, a bridge between the three organizations if things get serious." Mori smiled wryly. "We wouldn't want to interrupt your retirement because of some Yokohama in-fighting, after all."

Natsume snorted. "That would be much appreciated." He would be coming back if there was something major however, no matter his age. To have more eyes keeping watch over Yokohama would always be appreciated however.

XXX

The walk to the park from Mori's house was short.

Mori settled down on the wooden bench. He had brought a small book to pass the time.

Fukuzawa arrived soon after. He preferred to meditate.

Aside from them and their respective children, the playground was empty.

Yosano and Ranpo got along well, practically friends on sight. They settled things by arguing with each other about the merits and demerits, mostly silly things like whether green was better than blue.

Mori gazed up at the sky with a frown. The clouds were grey and low, close to raining. He also caught the unique scent that heralded a storm.

His observations proved true.

A fat raindrop landed on the pages of his book. Mori sighed. He stood up. The rain quickly increased. He felt his hand being grabbed by a smaller hand.

"Do you want to be soaked? We need to go," Yosano insisted. She tugged on her guardian's hand.

Mori was getting dragged along by Yosano. Fukuzawa was in a similar situation, but in the opposite position, his hand around the stubborn Ranpo's collar. The two friends met each other's gaze with some sort of mutual pity that made their lips twitch upwards.

Despite the valiant efforts of two of the four, they all got drenched.

A/N

The suffix -sensei has multiple meanings. Fukuzawa saying Mori-sensei means he is saying Doctor Mori, not Teacher Mori.

Mori is figuring out how to be a dad, slowly but surely.

Port Mafia Boss: that's how the mafia works

Also, seriously, I don't even know this guy's name. I'm basing his character off of like three lines. This poor guy has severe screen time issues.

This chapter is 50% Fukumori brotp and I'm fine with that.

Chapters:

1-Mori

2-Yosano

3-Fukuzawa

Next: 4-?

-Silver