Summary: Her new coworker reminded her of someone. Who? She didn't exactly know. Yosano-centric, Dad!Mori, one shot.

"Who do I remind you of?"

"Myself."

-Excerpt from Fifteen

XXX

Mori had pulled out a scalpel on instinct when he had felt the bloodlust emanating from the swordsman.

Fukuzawa was ready to fight.

And honestly, Mori was almost sad to disappoint his old bodyguard. But he wasn't here for a fight, he wasn't here to bring Yosano back with him. No, he had shown up at the hospital rooftop for a different purpose. He tucked his weapon back into his sleeve. "Fukuzawa-dono, take her."

Fukuzawa warily sheathed his katana. "Mori-sensei, what do you mean?"

"I mean, take Yosano," Mori repeated. He shrugged, adding, "She will do far better with you than with me and the military."

Fukuzawa's eyes remained full of distrust, hand near his sword.

Mori gave an eye-smile. "I don't lie in negotiations, you know that."

Fukuzawa carefully nodded.

XXX

Yosano stared at her new coworker.

"Would you be interested in committing a double suicide with me?" Dazai happily proposed with a large smile.

"No," Yosano immediately shot down.

Dazai dramatically clutched his chest.

Kunikida walked over, hit his partner on the head, and dragged Dazai back to his desk.

It was fake. It was all fake. Yosano could tell now, after working with Dazai for three days. The smile was fake. The cheery countenance was fake. The body language was fake. Fake, fake, fake. Yosano didn't like him.

XXX

"And that's how the former president of the biggest corporation in Yokohama got fired," Ranpo finished.

Yosano laughed slightly. "So that's how you knew about that vase." Although talking with Ranpo, she was still working, cleaning her tools.

The door to the office opened.

"What were you doing?" Kunikida fumed. He clutched his notebook and pen in a death grip to keep himself from lunging at his irritating partner. "I swear if you-"

"Death has eluded me again," Dazai dramatically cried. He stopped beside his desk, picking twigs and leaves from his hair and throwing them in a trashbin.

Kunikida's knuckles turned white. He clenched his teeth.

"Surely you don't actually want to die," Kenji blurted out. He had a finger to his lips, curiosity and naivety on his face in equal measure.

Dazai smiled. His eyes were dead. "Why would you ever assume that?"

Kenji tilted his head to the side, confused. "People in the city sure are weird," he commented.

Yosano paused, looking at Dazai. She pursed her lips. Everything about him still screamed 'wrong' to Yosano even though they had been working together for a month now. She knew this feeling, but she didn't remember from where or when.

XXX

Yosano was leaning against the wall nearby the double doors of the infirmary. Nobody had been injured today-things were slow again. She fiddled with the butterfly clip in her hair.

"What are you doing, Kunikida-kun?" Dazai asked. He had his hands in his coat pockets.

"Working," Kunikida said. "Like you should be." He gave his partner a look.

"I have been working," Dazai chirped. "But you see," he paused, looking at his partner. "You should write this down," he encouraged.

Kunikida nodded seriously. He opened up his notebook.

"Breaks are important for your back," Dazai advised, mock seriously. "If you don't take any you can break your back in half."

"Breaks are important for your back," Kunikida muttered as he wrote it down. "If you don't take any-"

Dazai propped his chin on his hand. "I'm messing with you," he admitted.

Kunikida's pen snapped. He leaned over his desk and grabbed his partner by the collar. "Dazai."

Dazai grinned at Kunikida, not bothered in the slightest.

Kunikida growled something under his breath and let go.

Dazai gave a nonchalant, innocent look and a shrug, hands to the side and palms up.

Yosano was used to Dazai by now, after a year or so. Dazai was odd and acted fake most of the time, he was unnatural, but occasionally he acted serious, a show of his trust.

Dazai was lazy. Yet he took the trouble to keep an eye out for everyone in the office. Everyone knew it after several people received anonymous help and Ranpo made a cryptic comment to Dazai about it. Dazai cared. . . Even if he didn't act like he did most of the time. And that meant a lot to Yosano, the Agency was her family.

XXX

Yosano was in the Agency conference room. She was on a high level case with Ranpo and Dazai. Usually the last two wouldn't be put together on a case after last time, but this was a special occasion. Yosano was tasked with babysitting them more than anything else.

"And then we lead them here." Dazai pointed to the map, specifically a set of warehouses at the docks. It was close to Port Mafia territory, but not close enough for them to be a problem.

"Ahh," Ranpo said in realization. "We set things up so that the gang thinks their boss has been captured and just outed all of them." He bit off half of a Snickers. "Then they will all fold immediately to get lighter sentences."

"And we get information on all of the gang's activity," Dazai concluded. He briefly gave a dark smirk towards the map.

Yosano would have missed it if she hadn't been sitting at the right angle and paying attention. That smirk. . . She knew who Dazai reminded of: her previous guardian, Ougai Mori, the current Boss of the Port Mafia.

Everything was the same. The happy persona, the fake smiles, and the lurking darkness underneath that rarely revealed itself. The mannerisms, the trolling, the smirk, the complex strategies that always worked. . . .

How could she have not noticed?

Yosano stared at Dazai.

Dazai noticed. "Something wrong?" He asked, curious.

"Nothing," Yosano muttered, diverting her gaze, "I spaced out."

Ranpo watched the two, picking apart their behavior. He said nothing.

XXX

Things made both more and less sense after Yosano learned about Dazai being from the Port Mafia. Dazai knew Mori, but how and why? What had happened to get Dazai to leave?

She let the thoughts grow in her mind. But she never spoke them aloud. It was too risky. She didn't know what would happen, how Dazai how react. She didn't know enough about him. Yosano wasn't close enough to him to bring something like that up. And what would she say? 'Oh, you know Mori-sensei too?'

So Yosano stayed silent and watched.

Atsushi sat on one of the couches. He quietly spoke up, "Dazai-san."

Dazai was sprawled out on tthe other couch. "Yes, Atsushi-kun?"

Atsushi was playing with his hands, nervously. "Was that from personal experience?"

Dazai turned his head to his apprentice. "Was what from personal experience?"

Atsushi's volume dropped down even further. His face reddened. "That um, that people tend to cry when their fathers die?"

Dazai rolled over onto his front. He put his hands beneath his head. "No. Mine hasn't died yet."

"Oh," Atsushi said. He stared at his hands. "Then how did you know?"

"Second hand experience," Dazai curtly replied. His tone was the signal that this conversation was over, that Atsushi shouldn't push anything further.

XXX

Dazai's phone rang.

Everyone in the office clearly heard the ringtone, a loud rock song. Dazai hated rock. . . but that was irrelevant, as Dazai hadn't picked the ringtone.

Dazai hit 'accept call'. "What is it, Chibi?" He didn't say Chuuya's name because he didn't want his coworkers to know who he was talking to. "Why? No, it would be. . . ." Dazai's mouth opened but he didn't say anything. His face went blank for a few seconds. "No. I'll be right there. Ten minutes," he promised. He got up, slipping his phone inside his pocket.

"Where are you going?" Yosano asked before Kunikida could start insisting that Dazai stay. Whatever it was, whatever situation Dazai was getting himself into, it meant something was seriously wrong for him to react like that.

Dazai looked directly at Yosano. "I'm going to help save a doctor. Care to join?" He invited.

Ranpo's eyes opened, exposing dark emeralds that pierced into Dazai.

Dazai smiled back, brown eyes empty, a distinct lack of nothing to be found there. "Don't worry," he said to Ranpo.

Ranpo gave a small nod. He was still unhappy with the situation, but he would trust Dazai.

Amongst everyone else was confusion. A doctor? How did Dazai know this doctor? What was so special about this doctor to have Dazai look serious?

But Yosano knew. It wasn't 'a doctor'. It was 'the doctor'. She knew and she didn't know if she even wanted to know. "Why?" Yosano asked Dazai. Why should she go? Conflicting emotions rammed against each other-her insides twisted into a knot.

Dazai smiled. He wondered in a teasing way, as if some inside joke that Yosano was not privy to, "Well, perhaps because he reminds me of someone?"

Yosano reached up and touched her butterfly pin. The metal was cold and reassuring against her finger tips-a reminder of her days in the military. "Yourself?"

"Me," Dazai agreed. He gave her another knowing smile before walking out of the office door.

Yosano glanced at Ranpo, the only other one who knew what was going on, frowning at his resigned look. Cursing the curiosity that buzzed through her mind as she theorized about what was was going on, she followed Dazai.

XXX

Corpses lined the field, their flesh weighing down the tall stalks of grass. Some were Port Mafia, some were not. Off to the side, under the shade of a spindly tree, were two figures, clad in black.

Chuuya's knife, still slowly dripping blood, was on the ground. His boots were coated in a thick layer of a reddish mud created from the plentiful dirt and blood. He had a hand on Mori's shoulder.

Mori's coat was beneath him. A cut off sleeve from Chuuya's trenchcoat was wrapped around his chest, another was around his leg. The former was far more concerning-he had been shot near the heart. Mori's chances of surviving were close to nothing without immediate medical attention. He was still breathing, struggling to fill his lungs. Due to the lack about 30% of his blood, he was starting to experience hypothermia. He had his eyes closed, focusing on struggling through the pain.

It was a good thing Dazai had brought the best doctor in Yokohama.

Dazai looked at Yosano.

"No," Yosano replied.

"You save him or you leave him here to die. Your choice," Dazai curtly responded.

Yosano hesitated. "You brought me here to do this. To save him," she accused.

"Yes." That was why Dazai had invited her, because he knew it would be the best shot at saving Mori.

Chuuya moved away from Mori and picked up his knife, a scowl on his face. He leaned against the tree, hands clenched into a fist. He didn't want to just stand there listening to two people have a conversation about whether or not to save Mori's life, but he needed to see what happened. He didn't know enough to interfere. He just knew Dazai, and that was enough for him to not mess with his ex-partner's plan.

Yosano finally looked at Mori. She avoided looking at his face, only staring at his blood soaked chest. "It would be against my code," she somberly stated. 'And Dazai knew that,' she thought with slightly bitterness. But there was nothing to be done, except to do it. She was a doctor-how could she let someone die in front of her? How could she let Mori-sensei-as much as she blamed him at times-die in front of her? She turned to the Port Mafia member she vaguely remembered fighting a few months ago. "Let me borrow your knife."

Chuuya looked at her.

Yosano met his gaze and felt like she was drowning. He was a stark contrast to Mori and Dazai. Instead of possessing nothing, his blue eyes seemed to contain the ocean itself.

Chuuya offered the handle to her. The blade left a dark, glossy streak of blood on his glove when Yosano took it.

Yosano gripped the handle of the ka-bar knife. It was a lot easier for her with her tools-cleavers and chainsaws cut through skin and muscle easily. She stabbed Mori in the heart and pulled out the blade. She waited a second-Mori's breath stuttered, he was truly on the brink of death now-and activated Thou Shalt Not Die.

The wounds in Mori's chest healed. His features twisted in unadulterated pain. He convulsed briefly, gasping, desperately filling his lungs. His face went back to being kept carefully blank, as they were where before he had been stabbed by Yosano. He exhaled, and his breathing returned to normal. His violet eyes cleared, sharpening by the second.

Dazai stepped forward, pulling Mori to his feet.

Chuuya put a hand on Mori's shoulder, supporting the older man from the other side. He had already picked up Mori's blood splattered coat, draping it over his free arm.

"Their back up will be here in three minutes," Dazai informed.

Mori's dress shirt was still covered in sticky, crimson blood. "How many?" His voice was the same as usual, dark velvet.

Yosano cleaned off Chuuya's knife with her black skirt.

"Hmmm. . . say, eighty?" Dazai estimated.

Mori straightened himself to his full height, the two younger men removed their support immediately. He smiled. "Chuuya-kun, Dazai-kun?"

"Yes, Boss?"

Dazai hummed to show he was listening.

Mori eye-smiled at them, letting it reach his eyes. "Would you two mind taking care of the trash?"

Chuuya smirked, an expression full of restrained viciousness. He had always paid his enemies back in twice the blood they took. "It would be a pleasure." The ocean in his eyes seemed to portray the depths of the waters, where no man should go lest he never come back.

Dazai sighed, cracking the knuckles of one of his hands. "Considering our goals are in alignment at the moment, it seems I have no choice." He smirked. His eyes seemed to grow several shades darker.

The expressions of the two younger men looked eerily similar.

Mori chuckled slightly. His violet eyes deepened-and seemed to redden-into byzantium. He let a bit of a smirk slip onto his own lips, making it apparent who the two had learnt the expression from.

Yosano's eyes stayed a solid magenta, not dark, not light, but something in between, as they always did. Instead of a smirk, she held onto a frown. She handed Chuuya back his knife. She held her fingers steady, refusing to let them tremble.

Chuuya accepted it with a nod of thanks, sheathing the knife without even looking.

"I have nothing left to do here. I'll be going," Yosano announced. She finally looked at Mori, but only saw his back.

Mori looked over his shoulder at the young woman, turning slightly towards her. He met her gaze, purposefully, thwarting her attempts to not make eye-contact. "Thank you for your help, Yosano-chan," he sincerely said.

Yosano scoffed at him, running a hand through her short hair and walking away. Her job was done-she had no reason to stay.

Mori put on his coat in one fluid movement. "Watch out for the commander, he can hide under ground," he reminded the two younger men. After they replied-with a nod or "Of course, Boss," respectively-he headed in the opposite direction of Yosano.

Chuuya and Dazai stood in the center of the field, surrounded by the dead.

Chuuya broke out his lighter and a pack of cigarettes. "This is an odd day," he commented, a cigarette in his mouth.

Dazai's gaze wandered to the tree where Mori and been bleeding out only minutes prior. "Yes, rather odd," he agreed.

Chuuya lit his cigarette and made a face of disgust. "When you agree with me, it makes me question my decisions."

"Some of them should be," Dazai quipped.

"Yours far more than mine," Chuuya countered.

"Fair enough," Dazai chirped.

Chuuya quickly shot Dazai a look.

Dazai shrugged, grinning widely.

The barrage of bullets interrupted their banter. The pieces of metal, although shot at high speeds, were caught in a red hue.

Chuuya pushed his hand out, flinging the bullets he caught at their enemies. He used the other to take a drag of his cigarette.

"The Charge of the Light Brigade," Dazai stated.

Chuuya nodded. "Any particular stanza?"

"Any of them will do."

They would do the thing they were best at, what Mori had trained them to do: rain hell upon their enemies.

XXX

Yosano knocked on the door to announce her presence and walked in. Ranpo never locked the door to his apartment.

Ranpo was waiting at the table. He pushed his open bag of gummy bears over Yosano, a silent offer.

Yosano sat down and took one. She pressed her nail down on the neck of the gummy. "I healed Mori-sensei."

"Why?" Ranpo bluntly asked. He preferred the direct approach-he had no want to beat around the bush.

Yosano stared at the gummy in her palm, the small indentation her nail had left. "I couldn't leave him to die. I didn't want him to." Her face was full of indecision.

"And how did that go?"

"I don't know," Yosano confessed. "But for some reason, I felt like that was the best thing to do?" She was confused about a lot of things right now.

Ranpo picked up a handful of gummy bears, eating them one by one. "Was Dazai still there when you did it?"

Yosano ate the gummy in two bites. It wasn't the super chalky kind, she liked it. "Yeah. Him and another guy, from the Port Mafia, Nakahara."

"I think they used to be partners," Ranpo dully informed.

"That makes sense."

Ranpo finished his handful of gummies. "Did Dazai say why he wanted you to keep Mori alive?" Interest trickled into his usually apathetic tone.

"Not upfront." Yosano took another gummy.

Ranpo propped his elbows on the table. "Any guesses?"

Yosano frowned. "Because Yokohama needs Mori-sensei? That'd be the logical thing." Her tone was doubtful.

"But you don't think Dazai was being logical," Ranpo pried.

"No. Nor was I really being logical." Yosano paused. She partially squished the gummy between her thumb and index finger-she had lost her appetite. "Some bad stuff happened in the military, but it wasn't his fault. He fought for me, sometimes. It was because of Mori-sensei and the President that I'm not still an asset of the government, being used to keep soliders alive."

"I think Dazai feels somewhat the same way," Ranpo revealed.

Yosano narrowed her eyes at Ranpo. "What way?"

"You owe Mori. Dazai seems to as well," Ranpo pointed out. With a sly look he added, "And, perhaps, you both see Mori as a father figure?"

Yosano glared at Ranpo for even suggesting the idea.

"Okay," Ranpo easily acquiesced. He didn't look like he believed her.

Yosano huffed and lobbed her gummy bear at him.

Ranpo dodged, smiling smugly.

XXX

Dazai showed up to work the next day with his usual plastered on smile and the addition of a leg cast.

Atsushi looked at his mentor with alarm. "Dazai-san, you got injured?"

"Yes, a mole tripped me out of the blue," Dazai replied, straightfaced.

Atsushi sweatdropped. He didn't know how to respond to that.

"Dazai, stop messing around!" Kunikida barked. "You still have eight reports leftover from last week. And you still need to fill out a reply to the client from yesterday."

Dazai shrugged and turned his back on Kunikida, ignoring his partner. "Hey, Yosano-chan, how are you doing?" He chirped.

Yosano sighed, putting a hand on her hip. She wasn't expecting an apology from Dazai for yesterday-he was not the type that gave them out. Nor did she really want one. She was the one who made the choice on whether she healed Mori or not-Dazai hadn't held a gun to her head. "Fine."

Dazai smiled at the response. "That's good."

Dazai's smile was still fake, still a reminder of Mori and her time in the military, but it didn't seem to bother Yosano anymore. She wondered why.

A/N

Since Yosano knows both Mori and Dazai, I wondered if she noticed any similarities between them. This idea led to the creation of this story.

Dad Mori definitely treated Yosano a lot better than canon Mori. He made some mistakes, but he made more good choices than his canon counterpart. Hence Yosano and Mori's relationship being. . . better.

The Charge of the Light Brigade is a classic poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson. It has six stanzas and was written during the Crimean War. It covers a charge of the British brigade to their deaths. It both applauds the courage and condemns the foolishness of the soldiers involved.

-Silver