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The Port Mafia's headquarters, an imposing fortress in the heart of Yokohama, was enveloped in an eerie stillness. Gen'emon Tsushima, the once-feared leader of the Mafia, lay confined to his bed, a victim of both illness and madness. His once sharp mind now wandered through delirium, and only Mori Ōgai, his trusted doctor, knew the depths of his decline. Mori's position within the Mafia had always been strategic. As the Mafia's doctor, he wielded considerable influence, a power he intended to use to reshape the organization. The opportunity came when Gen'emon, in his fevered state, began to mutter incoherent threats and commands.
"Shuuji... Shuuji-..." Tsushima mumbled, his eyes wild and unseeing. "My son... protect him... the dungeon... only the executives know..."
Mori's interest piqued. He leaned in closer, feigning concern. "Tsushima-sama, who is Shuuji? Where can I find him?"
"Kill them all... All of the Port Mafia's enemies... Kill them," Tsushima raved, thrashing against his restraints. His voice was a desperate, maddened whisper. Mori observed the scene with clinical detachment. The time had come to take control, but first, he needed to secure the boss's son, Shuuji Tsushima, hidden away in the dungeon. The boy, if manipulated correctly, could be a valuable asset.
—
Months later, Mori convened a meeting with the five executives, the inner circle who were privy to the most guarded secrets of the Mafia. The room was filled with a palpable tension, the air thick with unspoken fears and ambition.
"Gentlemen," Mori began, his voice calm and authoritative, "Our leader's condition has deteriorated beyond hope. In his madness, he has revealed the existence of his son, Shuuji Tsushima, confined in our dungeon for protection. We must act to preserve the stability of the Port Mafia."
A executive, a woman known for her sharp intellect and direct approach, frowned skeptically. "Mori-sensei, if the boss wanted to protect his son, why would he hide him away in a dungeon? From what I've heard, Gen'emon was not kind to Shuuji. He was known for his brutality, even towards his own flesh and blood."
Mori considered her words carefully before responding. "The boss's method were indeed harsh, but perhaps in his own twisted way, he believed isolation was a form of protection. Shuuji Tsushima's potential and intelligent remains untapped, and it is our duty to evaluate and utilize it for the benefit of the Port Mafia."
The executives exchanged wary glances, deliberating the implications of Shuuji Tsushima's existence and Mori's proposal. The weight of their decision settled upon them, knowing that their next actions could shape the future of the organization. A second executive, a woman known for her cunning intellect, raised an eyebrow skeptically.
"Mori-sensei, I've heard troubling reports about this Shuuji Tsushima. It's said he attacked a member of our organization due to his poor mental health. How do we know he won't be a liability?"
Mori considered her question carefully. "Shuuji Tsushima's past actions are indeed concerning. However, under my guidance, I believe we can channel his potential effectively. His mental health will be a priority, and with proper management, he could become a powerful asset."
The third executive, a veteran, with a scar over his eye, known for his ruthlessness in handling internal disputes, spoke next. "Mori-sensei, if this boy poses a threat, we must consider eliminating him. We cannot afford to risk instability within our ranks."
Mori's gaze hardened slightly. "Elimination should be our last resort. Shuuji Tsushima is Tsushima-sama's son, and his blood ties to our former leader cannot be ignored. We must proceed with caution and strategic foresight."
The room fell into a contemplative silence as each executive weighed Mori's proposal and the risks involved. The fifth executive, a woman with a reputation for her meticulous planning, finally spoke up. "I agree with Mori-sensei," she said firmly. "Shuuji Tsushima may be unpredictable, but his potential benefits outweigh the risks. We should bring him under Mori-sensei's care and closely monitor his progress."
Reluctantly, the other executives nodded in agreement. Mori's plan, while risky, offered a path forward that could potentially strengthen the Port Mafia's position in Yokohama.
As Mori prepared to descend into the dungeon, he encountered a young sub- executive, named Kouyou Ozaki, emerging from the shadows. Known for her lethal skills and rising influence within the Mafia, Kouyou was a formidable presence. She shot Mori a wary and unimpressed look, her eyes filled with suspicion.
"Mori-sensei," she said coldly, "what business do you have in the dungeon?"
Mori met her gaze calmly. "I am here to see Shuuji Tsushima. It seems the boy has been hidden away for far too long."
Kouyou's expression hardened, but she said nothing more, simply turning and walking away, leaving Mori to continue his descent into the depths of the dungeon.
He found Shuuji Tsushima chained and emaciated. Despite his dire condition, there was a cold, calculating look in his eyes. Mori knew that this boy, stripped of his former identity, could be molded into something formidable, something powerful. "Shuuji-kun," Mori addressed him, his voice echoing in the damp cell, "I am Mori Ōgai. Your father has entrusted me with your care." Shuuji remained silent, his gaze unwavering. Mori continued, "Your father's time has passed. It is time for a new era, and you will be at its forefront. But first, we must end his suffering..Don't you agree?"
—
Weeks passed, and under Mori's care, Shuuji regained his strength. One evening, as Mori tended to the boy's scars, their conversation turned to the future. "Shuuji-kun," Mori said thoughtfully, "your old life is behind you. To fully embrace your new path, you will need a new identity. Have you ever considered a different name?"
Shuuji looked at Mori, curiosity flickering in his eyes as he removed the breathing tube off his mouth. "What name do you suggest?"
Mori smiled faintly. "Dazai Osamu. It has a certain ring to it, don't you think?"
Shuuji—now Dazai—nodded slowly. "Dazai Osamu... I like it."
—
One week after that pivotal night, Mori led Dazai to his father's bedside. Tsushima's eyes, clouded with madness, barely registered their presence. He raved on, "Kill them... all of them... every enemy..." Mori knelt beside the bed and spoke gently and with a fake tone of respect,
"Tsushima-sama, this isn't the right decision. Your enemies are many, but this path of endless killing will only lead to more chaos and suffering."
The boss' eyes flickered with a momentary clarity, but then he began to whisper other incoherent things, his mind slipping further into madness.
Mori saw that reasoning with him was futile. He took the scalpel from his medical bag, its blade gleaming in the dim light. Mori approached the man in the bed, who continued to mumble about enemies and death. In one swift motion, Mori slit Tsushima's throat. Blood flowed freely, and the now former boss' raving ceased as life left his body.
Mori turned to see Dazai standing by the window, his eyes reflecting the red hue from the city. There was a cold satisfaction in the boy's gaze, a silent approval of his father's death.
"The boss has died of illness and he entrusted me with his position," Mori stated and turned to Dazai, face bloody, loud enough for the guards outside to hear. He then looked directly at Dazai. "You are a witness to that fact, Dazai"
Dazai, his expression unreadable, gave a slight nod.
—
One year after the incident, in the privacy of Mori's clinic, Mori sat across from Dazai, now an official member of the Port Mafia. Mori regarded the young man with a mix of curiosity and strategic interest.
Mori looked at the statistics of the Port Mafia and signed. He complained to the boy and asked him if he paid attention to anything that he said. Of course Dazai replied with a sarcastic response.
Mori then heard some mixing sounds, now his interest piqued, he noticed Dazai subtly mixing various drugs—hypertension and hypotension—on the table in front of him. The young man's hands moved with a practiced ease, combining substances in precise amounts. Without a word, Dazai lifted the mixture to his lips and drank it down in one gulp.
"Dazai-kun, why are you mixing hypertension and hypotension?"
"Huh? Well maybe something will happen and I can finally die!"
The man got up from his sit and snatched the bottle out of the 15 years-old kid hands. "This isn't gonna kill you!
Dazai putted his hands in the air and started complaining about how life is boring and how he would rather die. Mori tried to make him calm down by saying he'll teach him how to mix drugs but it didn't really had the result he was hoping for.
"More importantly..You were the only witness to yours father death which means you are the only one that can confirm your father's statement. I can't have you dying so easily right now, Dazai-kun. "
The boy stopped complaining then and looked at his hands for a second while the older man was looking at him.
As he continued observing him, Dazai opened his mouth to speak. "You made an error in judgment."
"What do you mean?"
"It seemed smart to choose someone who attempts suicide as your accomplice. In the end I am the perfect accomplice. Even if I ended my life due to unknown motivation and you became the boss based on my testimony, no one would suspect anything. After all i am known in the mafia for my continuous attempt to take my life. But here I am, one year later, still alive."
The smirk on Mori's face widened, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of satisfaction.
There was something about Dazai, a familiar spark that reminded Mori of someone he once knew well. "Dazai-kun," Mori said thoughtfully, "you remind me of someone. Had I intended to silence you, I would have done it long ago."
Dazai looked up, his gaze meeting Mori's.
Mori leaned forward, his gaze intense. "If you'd like me to i can prepare something that would end your life peacefully."
A flicker of surprise crossed Dazai's face, a brief moment of vulnerability. "You could?!"
Mori nodded solemnly. "In return, I want to ask you to do a quick investigation. It's nothing significant..You understand, right?"
"You promise to make me those drugs?"
A nod
"This will be your first mission. Welcome to the Port Mafia, Dazai-kun."
Dazai looked at Mori, his eyes reflecting a mixture of apathy and intrigue.
"Sounds sketchy."
"I trust that you're familiar with Suribachi City in the Yokohama settlement."
"What are those rumors you're talking about?"
"Take a guess." Mori immediately replied.
"The old boss."
It wasn't posed as a question, yet Mori nodded in response before speaking. Mori handed him a contract. "There have been persistent rumors that your father, Gen'emon Tsushima, is still alive. Your task is to investigate these rumors and confirm their veracity. This contract represents a delegation of authority. They refer to it as the 'Silver Oracle."
Dazai took the file, flipping through its contents. As he read, Mori observed him closely. "Show this to any Port Mafia member, and they'll do anything you ask."
Dazai simply nodded in acknowledgment. Turning away from Mori, Dazai was ready to leave when Mori spoke up, his voice cutting through the tension,
"Dazai-kun, why do you wish to die?"
Then Dazai stopped abruptly, turning his head towards Mori as he spoke.
"Let's turn that question upside down. Is there really any value to this thing we call living?"
Mori watched as Dazai turned to leave the clinic, his steps echoing in the silence. Just before he reached the door, Dazai paused and turned back to Mori. "Mori-san," Dazai spoke softly, "you mentioned earlier that I remind you of someone you know. Who is this person?"
Mori regarded him thoughtfully for a moment before responding with a faint smile, "Myself, of course."
Dazai's expression flickered with understanding, a hint of realization dawning in his eyes. With a nod, he left Mori's clinic, leaving Mori to contemplate the intricate web of fate and ambition that bound them both within the Port Mafia's dark embrace.