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"Director?"
Mori looks up from the document he was skimming. Chuuya has peeked his head through the gap in the door, with a grim look in his eye. That, paired with the fact that he had not knocked as courtesy, could only mean one thing.
"The usual break room, Chuuya-Kun?"
Chuuya nods. Mori sighs, placing the half-read file back on the table, "I'll be there shortly. Would you-"
"Kettle's already on," Chuuya interrupts, opening the door fully and half-stepping inside, "I'll bring a plate of onigiri, shall I?"
Ever reliable, Mori thinks, and nods, "I'd prefer to feed him a bowl of chazuke, but given the short notice…"
Not replying, Chuuya bows and leaves. Across the room, Mori catches Elise's eye, who is kneeling by a coffee table, bent over her drawing book, fingers smeared with color.
"I'll be back soon, Elise-chan."
Elise gives a knowing nod, and continues to draw. Mori leaves her in the room, closing the door to his office behind him, and makes his way down the corridor to the designated break room. Along the way, he passes by the sick bay, which is thankfully empty, and the main office, which is bustling with noise and occasional laughter. Once he reaches his destination, he knocks, though he knows his presence has already been felt.
"Welcome, Atsushi-kun," he says warmly upon entering, closing the door behind him, "Please, don't stand up."
"Mori-san," Atsushi greets in his usual detached way, voice muffled behind the scarf he's wrapped around his mouth and nose, "I'm sorry to intrude like this."
"You know we don't see it that way," Mori reminds him, sitting on the arm-chair opposite the boy, offering a smile, "But in that case, I hope you won't refuse a cup of tea."
On cue, Chuuya approaches them from the tea station in the corner with a tray with three mugs of steaming tea, and a plate of onigiri for Atsushi. Experience has taught Mori the boy might not always eat them, but just in case he does, they keep a steady supply in the communal fridge every ADA member knows not to touch.
"Thank you, Chuuya-san," Atsushi says, accepting the mug. He unwraps his scarf, revealing a scar by his neck that Mori knows wasn't there last time, the implication of which leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, and a sour trace in Chuuya's expression.
"Let me know if you need any more sugar," Chuuya says, giving Mori his mug before settling down himself. Atushi takes his own mug, blowing gently and taking a long, soothing sip, sighing as warmth settles through him.
Mori waits until some of the tension slides off Atsushi before he asks, "How can I help you, Atsushi-kun?"
In the past, during the first few times Atsushi visited the Armed Detective Agency, Mori's first quesiton would be to ask, 'How are you?'. Atsushi would never answer besides a passing remark. Then one day, Chuuya brought up how the boy looked so wrecked, so pained, whenever they asked, and Mori decided to abandon the question entirely. For the sake of his sanity if not for Atsushi's.
After a moment's deliberation, Atsushi lowers his mug. Mori wishes he didn't need to ask so quickly, so early into sitting down, but he knows that time is precious for the boy, if not a matter of life and death, so Mori makes sure to respect that.
"Things might…get a little loud, in the upcoming days," Atsushi replies, not meeting their eyes, "A group of people sent the President a message. About me."
"About you?" Chuuya asks at the same time Mori asks, "Who?"
"I'm not sure. But I think they're American. My friends-" and isn't that a funny word to describe the senior Port Mafia members, "-Make sure not to talk about it when I'm in earshot," the corner of Atsushi's mouth lifts with the ghost of a smile, "I know they're displeased, though. And keeping a closer eye on me."
Tapping his mug languidly, Mori asks, "And things will get loud because…"
"The Americans are coming to Yokahama this month," Atsushi replies, returning to his drink, "I..don't know what that might mean for the Armed Detective Agency, let alone the Port Mafia."
"I see," Mori says, holding his chin. Beside him, Chuuya looks conflicted, wanting to speak, to ask questions, to do something that wasn't sitting down brewing tea. So he leans forward, pushing the plate closer to Atsushi, with a softening expression.
"Eat up, kid. It'll help wash the tea down.
Despite himself, Atsushi smiles against the rim of his cup, "I'm sure it's supposed to be the other way around, Chuuya-san."
"Respect your elders," Chuuya says without heat, and Mori has the amusing thought that his second-in-command looks like a fussing mother when he takes one of the onigiris and forces it into Atsushi's hand, broking no argument. And for good reason. Atsushi looks skeletal on a good day, though he's happy to note the boy looks less pale than last time. Even if the new scar speaks volumes about a story he'd rather not hear.
"And how is Kyouka-chan?" Mori asks, diverting the topic to a more serious area. He knows it'll cause some distress in the boy, but Kyouka is younger than even Atsushi, and Mori can't help but be worried about her.
Atsushi raises his gaze, eyes wide and the dark bags under emphasizing their color, "She's well. I'm…I'm taking care of her, Mori-san."
"Of that I have no doubt," Mori says, unsteepling his hands, "But would you please let her know that Ozaki-san is worried for her?"
"Yes," Atushi says, nodding, "I keep telling her she needs to go back, but…but she insists she won't leave without me."
Silence engulfs the room, each in their own thought. Mori watches Atushsi; his hunched back, his downcast eyes, solemn expression…And wishes not for the first time that the ADA, or at least one of them, had found the boy first.
Once the silence turns awkward, Atsushi clears his throat, "Thank you for the tea and food, Mori-san, Chuuya-san. I should-"
The door slams open, smashing against the wall and making the poor boy jump.
"Chuuya-san! I got your message, is he-"
Akutagawa pauses half-way across the room, collar undone and knee-length coat disheveled, looking as surprised as Atsushi. Chuuya smothers his laughter at the sight by focusing on his drink, and Mori doesn't bother to hide his smile.
"…Afternoon," Atsushi says, a bit of color returning to his cheeks, igniting a flush on Akutagawa's face.
"…Welcome," Mori's detecitve replies, trying to bring some decorum to his appearance, "I, ah, I'm sorry I wasn't here to greet you."
Atsushi quickly shakes his head, "It's alright. I wasn't here long anyway."
"And…" Akutagawa looks between Atsushi and his boss, stepping forward, "Will you be leaving soon?"
Atsushi doesn't reply, and it's an answer in of itself.
"Right, of course," Akutagawa says, and sits down beside the boy without invitation, pulling the plate of onigiri closer, "Have you eaten? You look like you'll kneel over any moment."
"You're too kind," Atsushi teases, and Akutagawa ducks his head guiltily. Looking solemn once again, Atsushi says, more quietly, "You know I can't, Akutagawa. I'll be in enough trouble as it is-"
"It's just food," Akutagawa replies, anger directed at someone else, "If they don't want you eating elsewhere, they should start feeding you better."
There is no reply to that. Chuuya starts clearing the empty mugs, and Mori stands up to walk to the window, to give the two of them a little privacy. The last thing he hears being one he heard Akutagawa tell Atsushi before. Many, many times, "Say the word, and you know I'll get you out of there."
"And you know I won't risk anyone getting hurt for my sake," comes the, again, long repeated reply, "And besides, you can't fight all of them, Akutagawa. And who knows what Dazai is actually capable of when it comes to-"
Sneering at the name, Akutagawa leans back against the sofa, but his scowl is easily undone when Atsushi tentatively reaches forward and slips his hand into the other's. From the reflection on the window, Mori can see the painful enamor on Akutagawa's face before the boy lifts Atushi's hand to place a kiss at the back of it. Mori cannot ignore the pain that rises in his own chest when Atsushi looks at Akutagawa in wander at the small, tender gesture.
Before he can reply in full, however, Atsushi freezes, perking like a cat who heard the distant omen of a catastrophe. He would have jumped, to, were it not for the hold Akutagawa had on his hand. Mori understands what is happening before any of them can verbalize it.
"Mori-san-"
"Calm, Atsushi-kun," Mori ensures, placing a hand on his shoulder before walking past him to the door. He pulls out his phone. Hirotsu picks up on the first ring.
"Hirotsu, make sure everyone stays put. Do not approach, no matter what."
"Yes, director."
Mori barely hangs up before the elevator in the corridor bings, and a set of footsteps begin to approach. Chuuya, abandoning his mugs, takes the spot opposite of his boss, flanking the door. With his back turned, Mori can't know how Akutagawa and Atsushi are looking, but he's lived this exact moment enough times to wager a guess.
He wishe Dazai could be equally predictable.
The man walks in a few moments later, looking amused. It is unfortunate for Dazai's character that every single person in the room knows this is a facade.
"There you are, Atsushi-kun," Dazai drawls, hands inside the pockets of his trench coat, "I was beginning to fear something had happened to you."
"Dazai-san," Atsushi says, voice devoid of even the minute emotion he'd given Mori, "I-I'm sorry for worrying you."
Dazai waves his hands dismissively, "I'm not the one you should apologize to, Atsushi-kun. Isn't that right, Mori-san?" his blank eyes meet Mori's, "I apologise on his behalf, Director Mori."
"That's alright, Dazai-kun. No apology needed for some tea," Mori replies, motioning the sofa, "Please, sit. Tell me, how is my counterpart?"
"Busy busy. Too busy to have to spare his executive on a fetching errand," Dazai says, not moving from his spot, but turning to Atsushi, "You should know that by now, Atsushi-kun."
Atsushi flinches, and Akutagawa glares at his ex-mentor.
"Cut the boy some slack, mackerel," Chuuya says irritably, "He just wanted to see his boyfriend."
The boys in questions freeze, gasp and blush, but Dazai simply grins toothily at Chuuya.
"Is that so? Say, if you're that worried about my apprentice, chibi, you can always switch teams."
"I'd rather choke on my hat," Chuuya replies, before turning to Atsushi, wincing, "No offense, kid."
Atsushi shakes his head, and when Dazai beckons him with a jerk of his head, he dutifully stands up. Before he can step away, however, Akutagawa reaches out, latching a hand around Atsushi's wrist. Both of them freeze. Atsushi turns to Akutagawa in desperation, but the other has his eyes set on Dazai instead.
"This won't be forever," he says, lifting his chin, narrowing his eyes, "You won't have a hold on him for long. Not if I can help it."
Mori watches for his once-subordinate's reaction, not surprised to see a sharp smile split open his face.
"Oh, how the student has grown," Dazai says, hiding something dark behind his delighted exterior, "I accept your challenge, Akutagawa-kun. But in the future, I ask either of you let me know if you're planning a date," he looks at Atsushi knowingly, and the boy lowers his gaze, "And plan it somewhere not here, please. I'd hate for my presence to cause undue stress when I come to retrive Atsushi."
With that, he reaches out a hand. Akutagawa let's got of Atsushi's with some hesitance, their fingers lingering, before the Port Mafia member steps forward to his mentor, letting the man wrap a hand around his shoulders. Mori doesn't want to think about the ways that seemingly innocent touch will be used to undoubtedly hurt Atsushi in the upcoming hours.
"Take care, Atsushi-kun," Mori says, before the two can walk out, joining his hands behind his back, and turning to Dazai, "Please give my regards to Fukuzawa-dono."
Dazai nods, and Atsushi follows him out, a too-tight hold wrapped around him.
None of those in the room follow, but Akutagawa moves to the window until they get in a black car and drive off.
Chuuya, muttering to himself, returns to his cleaning up, and Mori goes to stand beside Akutagawa, watching the street below.
"I thank you for remaining composed, Akutagawa-kun," he says. Akutagawa chuckles sardonically.
"He wouldn't be able to stop a bullet, you know. Or a knife," he tells Mori, knuckles white where he's gripping the windowsill, "He's not a god."
"And you're not a killer," Mori points out.
"If killing a monster makes me a killer in the eyes of society-"
"It's not society I'm concerned with, Akutagawa-kun," Mori interrupts, meeting his gaze, "It's someone else.
Akutagawa's eyes widen, but he remains silent.
"This won't be forever," Mori echoes Akutagawa's words, placing a hand on his bony shoulder, "I made a promise to you; we will get him out of there. But in a way that will not cause Atsushi-kun more suffering than he's already enduring."
"And we'll get him out together," Chuuya says from behind them, hand on his hip and eyes narrow, "So cut the self-sacrificial bullshit, Akutagawa. We care about the kid too. You don't have to shoulder this by yourself."
Akutagawa, to his credit, ducks his head in shame. Not letting him apologize, Chuuya begins to drag him out the room, talking about some case or the other they were working on.
Alone in the room, Mori sighs, closing his eyes for a moment and asking the room, "Now just what could the Guild want with you, Atsushi?"
Letting the question hang, he turns off the light and closes the door, leaving the room clean and ready for Atsushi's next and hopefully soon visit.