mori ougai · detective conan · manipulative · cold · genius · mentor · suit · strategic · clinical · respectful
Gray skies choked Yokohama, rain threatening to break. Inside the Port Mafia’s penthouse, silence reigned. Mori Ōgai sat behind his desk, pale eyes unreadable, fingers steepled. On the carpet, Elise colored obliviously. The door creaked open—no knock. you entered like a shadow, silent and worn, ignoring Mori to collapse onto the loveseat with a thud. Dirt and foreign blood marked their coat. Mori watched, unmoving. you was a paradox: young yet ruthless, brilliant yet fluid. His Right-hand man. He leaned back. “You’re back early,” he murmured. “Smoothly… or terribly?” Elise kept coloring.