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When words about the Port Mafia boss having met his end and replaced by the same successor he had appointed reached him, Fukuzawa’s heart skipped a beat in the worst possible sense, even if he also felt there was more to the story than what whispers told. And, despite making use of every single breathing exercise he knew, some semblance of calm wasn’t something he managed to achieve until a conversation with Ranpo confirmed his hunch.
“Well, of course finding out the truth was easy.” There was still pride in his voice, as anytime he pulled off another deduction feat, but he didn’t linger on it. After all, Ranpo knew what his asking entailed.
Yosano was there too, frowning both before and after getting the death news disproved-- still, a smidge of relief could be seen for a second, if one knew where to look in order to find it. Fukuzawa assumed it was more or less the same with him, even if their respective stories regarding the man in question weren’t; a difficult past behind, considerably worse in her case than his (how to compare one and the other beyond that, actually?) and yet not enough to have gotten them to celebrate had Mori been really dead.
Long story short, the man known as Mori Ôgai was indeed no more, but not because the bearer of said name was too.
And by digging up a little, especially if having Ranpo’s incredible mind on your side, it was indeed easy to find a lead. Very close to the same time there had been a change in the Port Mafia leadership, the same had happened in an orphanage far enough from Yokohama to not be remarkable but close enough someone could reach it by foot if willing to take a few days’ trip.
The name of said place’s new headmaster not only did match in surname, also, but a given name such as Rintarô closed in the connection for those who knew.
Rintarô was the name slipping from that being (that girl) born or at least spawned as a product of his ability. Rintarô was whatFukuzawa himself had been gathering the courage to call him, or ask about doing so if nothing else, when they were still partners-- both in terms of work and in a personal way.
Anyway, neither him nor Yosano asked for the exact location of said orphanage. Not yet.
Things changed a few years later, when a young girl who had been part of the mafia up until the newest boss (Dazai Osamu) died, came to the Agency seeking a boy who was all she had right then. The same boy Akutagawa had fought against and apparently bonded with. The same boy who now called that orphanage home.
A small team escorted her there, partly because no matter what that was still a lost teen girl, partly due to personal reasons. Akutagawa, because he had been a lost kid as well and he was looking for that boy as well. Yosano, finally daring to visit the place in search of closure. Ranpo, who too knew how being so alone felt and also (and mainly) wanted to be there for Yosano. And they returned without her, for the girl had been invited to stay and took up the offer.
“I didn’t get to talk to him.” Yosano told him the next day, over tea. “Might be the next time, if there’s one.” She shrugged, clearly undecided yet. “But the change’s done him good, that I can tell you.”
To the point she harbored some jealousy towards the kids who had gotten what she didn’t as a child, but that wasn’t something he learned until way later on.
“I see.” Was all Fukuzawa himself said for a while, though an idea was already forming in his mind-- or, rather, it was making itself impossible to ignore the way it had been before: the calling to see him again.
Opposite to how things had developed with his detectives upon the girl’s arrival and request, he chose to do the small trip alone.
Besides, given the nature of Fukuzawa’s reason to do it, bringing someone else wasn’t fitting. Plus, Yosano wasn’t going back that soon, Ranpo had no interest in the matter beyond what concerned Yosano, asking Akutagawa felt like intruding in the boy’s own personal matters, and everyone else was completely out of the matter by choice.
It was fine, also. He had traveled longer on his own, after all.
In fact, there was only one downside, and it was having to do the phone call announcing his intention to visit (entering unannounced would be rude) himself, with the awkwardness that might entail. Except luckily or unluckily, who picked up the phone wasn’t Mori or even Elise, but a young man Fukuzawa supposed it was the ex-mafia member turned resident. Resident and worker, it seemed. That or he was simply helping out by virtue of being one of the eldest kids there.
“Yeah, I’ll tell Mori-sensei. But there’ll be no problem at all.”
It wasn’t the boy who received him at his arrival, though, but Elise. Elise, who now looked as if she was in her twenties and was dressed in clothes that signaled she was part of the place’s staff.
“My, welcome, Yukichi.” She greeted him, the ways of the same little girl he had once met peeking behind the older look and more mature attitude, a striking rendition of how it could have been had she grown up and changed with time, when that wasn’t exactly the case: Fukuzawa might not be an expert on how such an ability worked, despite knowing more than most nonetheless, but he did know she hadn’t changed even a smidge while Mori was still the Port Mafia’s head.
“Thank you.” He replied, politely, no matter if the sight of her still instilled some strange feeling in him.
Like the sensation that came to one while being ‘followed’ by a porcelain doll’s eyes late at night, except this doll’s eyes were very much full of life as they were. So much she didn’t have to be stuck to her owner’s hand to move and function.
“Some things never change, I see.” He didn’t ask whether she was referring to his words or overall demeanor, and she didn’t comment on it further either. Instead, Elise seemed as eager to guide him away as he was to move along. “Anyway, follow me, I will take you to him in no time.” Maybe she could sense his urgence, maybe she could sense Mori’s if he was feeling the same. Whatever it was, Fukuzawa didn’t want to lose time, not being so close already, so it worked for him.
It wasn’t until they had arrived and Elise closed the door on her way out when Fukuzawa realized how little ready he actually was.
Though maybe there was just no way to be ready at all.
Their relationship, both professional and personal, might have ended years ago… but sure as hell the feelings had remained as strong as then, at least from his own side, because simply seeing him here in the same room already caused Fukuzawa’s heart to skip a beat.
Pretty much as Yosano had described, he looked different, a bit due to the time which had passed and mostly since it seemed like a weight had been taken off his shoulders, despite also having grief written all over his face (how not to, when his protegé had died not that long ago); it seemed like such a turning point in his life had done Mori good, even if he had been made to do it instead of choosing it out of his own volition-- at least in regards of leaving the mafia leadership, because Fukuzawa himself didn’t know if ending up as a caretaker for lost children had been his entire choice or part of the negotiation.
(What he did know, though, was how his ex-partner was now fulfilling a long-harbored desire.)
“My, Fukuzawa-dono in the flesh, if my eyes do not deceive me.” Mori greeted him with, quickly showing how some things never changed and likely looking for a specific range of a response. He, of course, couldn’t help but oblige.
“Hm. As if I hadn’t called to notify the orphanage of my visit.”
“Well, perhaps I couldn’t believe it until I saw it.” Was the answer he got, in a mischievous tone that swiftly invokes familiarity.
“And still you aren’t convinced yet?” Fukuzawa asked, given how that was the most direct way to get an answer, or try to at least. Though he found himself not minding dancing around a little, if that ended up being the case; he had missed it, after all.
“Almost, but you coming closer would greatly help.”
Without missing a beat, Fukuzawa obliged there too-- how not to, when that was his entire reason to be there? Again, he had missed it and he had missed him, so falling back into a semblance of their old dynamic, a mix between that and adapting it to their new situation, was as easy as breathing.
“Like this?” He asked, once close enough to have a proper cordial conversation. And, judging by how Mori first responded by lifting a hand towards him and poking his arm with a finger in clear amusement, the answer was going to be affirmative.
“Precisely.” The doctor turned mafia boss turned orphanage headmaster smiled, his expression turning softer. “Would you like some tea?”
“Of course.” Fukuzawa quickly said, nodding.
More familiarity established between them as they sat down for said tea, even when back in the day quite a bunch of those moments had gotten interrupted by a not small range of situations (a sudden attack, a surprise visit by Natsume, Ranpo announcing they were out of some food he liked…). Though, to be fair, it wasn’t like there wasn’t any chance of experiencing the same, given how any of the children might need something Elise or Nakajima may not be able to provide.
The probability, though and still, was lower.
“I have to say my thanks to our two new residents, by the way.” Mori said as he served the tea, first passing Fukuzawa a cup and then pouring his own. “After all, they set off the chain of events that led us to be here today, did they not?”
“Perhaps.” Fukuzawa replied, earning himself a chuckle.
“Just perhaps?”
“Precisely.” He said, taking a sip of his tea before continuing. Though he made time for a sidenote first. “Delicious, by the way.” And then, back to the main topic. “And, well, you have been here for years. Which I knew, thanks obviously to Ranpo-kun’s astonishing intellect.” Fukuzawa then shrugged. “I could have passed by sooner.” He not only could have, also, but maybe straight up should have.
What had stopped him? That was difficult to say. And maybe not worth mulling over it, or at least not too much, since he was there now.
“Well, better late than never, right?” Mori simply told him, mimicking his shrug and trying out his own tea as well. As if he had read Fukuzawa’s mind, which wasn’t an uncommon occurrence at all. Quite the opposite, given both the man’s sharp wits and how much the two of them had gotten to know each other.
To the point years apart and the changes which came with them hadn’t eroded said knowledge, even.
“For sure.” Fukuzawa quickly agreed-- how not to? Then, after a brief pause, moved onto admitting something that would probably not pose as a surprise to his companion. “I was worried, you know, when hearing about the changes in the mafia leadership.” Then there came another pause. “Not merely about the city, but also about you.” Mainly at him, actually, since that had been his first concern.
Again, how not to, when his heart had a habit of overruling his mind even in important matters?
“Good thing you had that prodigy boy of yours to put you at ease.” Mori snickered, but it also didn’t take a genius to see how his expression had softened. “No, Dazai-kun didn’t cause my demise in the end. If only I could have stopped him from embracing his own…”
There wasn’t much Fukuzawa could say about that, since he had barely known the boy save from the fact Mori had taken him in at fourteen (the fact he was the same age Ranpo was when he crossed paths with Fukuzawa himself hadn’t been lost on him), basically appointed him as his successor and said succession had gotten carried out thanks to/by Dazai’s own agenda. Since he had just reunited with his former partner and there was a lot he had missed, and was honestly sort of taken aback by how he had been offered such an admission as if years of separation meant nothing.
But there was something he could do, and Fukuzawa didn’t doubt more than a brief second about it; lifting up his free hand, he reached out towards Mori’s linked them together in a reassuring gesture.
“Thank you.” Was all he got in words, for a soft movement rearranged the position of both their hands in a way that ended up with their fingers entwined as well.
It wasn’t like other heavy subjects didn’t sweep into their conversation after that, because they were, but it was also easy to notice a conscious and combined effort to keep it mostly light-hearted as they talked about everything and nothing over a few more cups of tea.
Plus, they kept holding hands as well, except when it was absolutely necessary to let go for serving or clean-up once they ran out of said tea.
In fact, they only stopped holding hands when going out, and just because Mori latched onto Fukuzawa’s arm instead while guiding him to see spots of the building he had missed during his arrival. That, of course, earned them a few glances and whispers from the children-- but not in a bad way, actually; in fact, those kids seemed mere seconds (and a tad of shyness) away from asking something like ‘Are you going to be our new foster dad too?’ or something similar. Luckily, no one commented directly on it, because Fukuzawa didn’t… Well, it wasn’t like he wouldn’t have known how to respond at all, but would have definitely struggled, for facing a question like that when he hadn’t even talked about it with Mori himself sounded like…
… like a challenge.
Besides, what would be better, bringing it up head-on or waiting to see where things went? After all and again, they had just reunited.
“Yes, these children can be nosy.” Of course, they could never go unnoticed by someone who spent so much time with them, so Mori commenting on it wasn’t surprising. Nor was it his choice of words towards Fukuzawa himself in an even more direct manner. “But worry not, they’re never ill-intentioned either.”
“And even if that was the case, it won’t be me dealing with most of it.” Came out of Fukuzawa’s mouth without thinking too much about it, not until he heard his companion laughing.
“Oh, so you would leave me just like that?” Mori asked, lifting his free hand towards his chest with faux indignation. “You really wound me, Fukuzawa-dono.”
A chuckle appeared on Fukuzawa’s own face, even if his next answer was actually serious.
“Obviously not. I cannot stay forever, though.”
“Hm, I know that.” Mori scoffed, as if he couldn’t believe Fukuzawa would stop the charade just like that. Though it didn’t seem to matter much, since he had his counter ready even for a shift in tone. “Still, you can visit again whenever you want, so…” Then, back to the joke for a second. “You cannot escape them forever either.”
“Well… no.” Fukuzawa shrugged. “It will be worth it, anyway.”
“So that is a yes.” Mori wasn’t asking, because there was no need to.
“It is.” He answered, even though there was no need to.
In perfect synchrony, not even possible to improve had they rehearsed it, their footsteps came into a halt as they exchanged a glance that might as well have said what a million words could-- or maybe couldn’t. Point was, said glance was all both needed to go on further, leaning in to then share a brief kiss on the lips.
And that kiss, by the way, was the first of many.