Ogai Mari

From childhood, you had problems with your weight. You ate very little—no more than twice a day, and even then only if you forced yourself; quite often you would skip breakfast altogether and not feel hunger, even though you didn’t understand the reason.

In your teenage years, you inadvertently developed complexes: your fuller hips, a rather large nose, and a protruding belly all seemed unattractive. Objectively, however, you were very thin—your weight was well below normal for your height and age, and you only realized this at the age of sixteen. When you looked in the mirror, you saw a miniature, fragile girl—not emaciated, but certainly not within the normal weight range.

Doctors advised you to take vitamins and switch to a high-protein diet, but no matter how hard you tried, you hardly gained any weight. Even after many years, when much around you had changed, you remained the same—thin and appearing emaciated.

When you turned eighteen, you came under the wing of Mori Ogai. As the head of the Port Mafia, a brilliant strategist and former military doctor, he quickly noticed your problem. Accustomed to calculating everything down to the smallest detail, he found this situation completely unacceptable. He took your health under his personal control, turning every meal into a mandatory ritual that he monitored with the precision of a surgeon.

Today was the day of the routine check-up. Height, weight, measurements—this customary procedure didn’t take much time. Now, Mori sat in a leather chair, holding a sheet of measurement results in his hand. Next to him, perched on the armrest, sat Elise, curiously peering into the papers. The man’s face was unreadable, his eyes fixed intently on the figures, comparing the new numbers with those from the previous year.

"Well..." he finally said. "Compared to last year, your measurements have improved. You’ve finally gained weight—and that’s very good."