Metal & Fire

Summary: Dazai's coat had been abandoned on the desk. He wouldn't have left that behind willing. . . and it didn't look like he did. Dad!Mori, one shot.

"Leave me, Doctor."

"Of course." Mori bowed slightly to the bedridden Boss of the Port Mafia before leaving. He entered the hallways of Headquarters. His smile did not falter, but his eyes grew darker.

The Boss was getting worse.

Mori didn't like it.

Every visit presented him with a question: What will happen if the Boss truly succumbs to his delusions? What should Mori do? 

Each time, Mori came to the same conclusion: whatever Mori felt he needed to.

The Boss had wiped out all of his enemies in the Port Mafia rather efficiently, leaving only staunch supporters. The only way to correct the path of the Port Mafia would be to gain the blessing of the Boss to take over. But if the Boss ever got to the point of being fully raving mad he would not listen to reason.

It was why Mori had a contingency plan to prepare for that.

XXX

Mori owned a building that acted as his infirmary. It was largely abandoned looking-a helpful appearance of you front want people poking around-and sturdy. He toed off his shoes at the front door. "Dazai-kun?"

Although only fourteen, Dazai could be trusted alone for an hour or two if properly bribed with food or something interesting.

Mori entered his office. The place was a mess, pill bottles, jars, and books scattered around.

Dazai's coat had been abandoned on the desk. He wouldn't have left that behind willing. . . and it didn't look like he did.

Mori brushed the papers off of his chair and collapsed into it. He sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose.

XXX

Dazai wasn't part of the Port Mafia. Mori was barely considered part of the Port Mafia. He couldn't use their resources for any of this.

Mori held up a scapel, somehow making it look nonchalant. "The faster you tell me, the faster I'll be gone."

The man kept his poker face on-he wasn't one of Yokohama's top information brokers for nothing. His Adam's Apple bobbed up and done nervously. His fingers trembled. "I can't-"

Mori smiled at the man reassuring, as if he wasn't mad at the refusal. He stabbed the scapel into the table, between the man's fingers. "This blade is rather sharp. It'd be a shame if you lost a finger. . . or five." 

XXX

Four days later

Elise took out most of the men. Mori helped some, usually slicing a throat or two before the enemy got a chance to scream.

The two entered the holding cell.

"Ah, Aizawa-san, would you-" The boss said, looking up, only to receive a bullet to the forehead. His cronies were also shortly gifted with bullets to the head.

Mori put his gun away, strolling over to his apprentice. He had Dazai's coat draped over his arm, and his doctor bag. If not for the dismal room and cadavers, one could believe he was a normal doctor.

Dazai was on the floor, head bowed in defeat towards the ground.

"Dazai-kun?" Mori asked.

Dazai was handcuffed. There was a thick circle of red around his wrists where the metal had rubbed against him.