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iamwhelmed · 5 years

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The Jisatsu Experiment: Chapter 2

Some people were interested, so here’s the second chapter!

EDIT: If you like my writing, consider my ko-fi? <3

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Summary: Years after Conan leaves with no explanation and Haibara becomes a distant Miyano Shiho, Ayumi graduates and heads off to Himura University-- as far away from Tokyo as she can get. She finds it hard to leave Conan and Haibara behind her despite Mitsuhiko and Genta moving on, but the mystery she's about to take on is going to begin unraveling a past she'd repressed, and it's very possible she's bitten off more than she can chew. Just how deep does this case run? Shinichi may just have to step in, but can he and Shiho stomach the mess Ayumi has gotten herself into, or save her from herself?

Katashi was ambitious, very by-the-book; he wanted to join the police force, become a detective, put away the bad guys. He almost hadn't believed her when she told him who she was, that she was a part of that little group of kids who went around foiling illegal plans ten years ago. The Detective Boys, even after Conan's departure and Ai's return to the adult world, had remained in the news for a good while. They spent summers in junior high solving cases around Japan, and Shinichi kept it no secret that he'd taken them under his wing. The Detective Boys were as much a household name as Heiji Hattori or Kaito Kid, though their individual names were little known. When they graduated to high school, that's when their name died down, (that was the year Mitsuhiko found his place at the lead of their class, the year Genta found his love for cooking). Her name stayed out of the papers. She wanted it that way. The Detective Boys were on hiatus, that's what she said. She'd flashed Katashi her badge (she held it on her person still; she told herself it was just in case). Katashi's nose wrinkled before he said "so what are you doing here?"

She didn't have the heart to tell him she was getting away from those memories.

He was a straight-A student, didn't appear to try very hard to keep it that way. He was focused on cracking a case that the police had sort of given up on-- kidnapping cases, a string of them, spanning at least two decades. All children, ages one to three. No suspects, no bodies, nothing. Just a place of suspicion that'd been burned to the ground twelve years ago. They'd found bodies of hired guns, sure, but nobody important. They suspected a trafficking ring, but had never found any trail, and the kidnappings had stopped eighteen years ago. Katashi, smart as he was, couldn't find anything to open the case up again. "Those kids are still missing. They were your age, Yoshida-san. That could have been you." She resisted pointing out that it could have been him, too. The kids would be adults now, and Ayumi admitted she didn't want to think about the grim life those children had lived-- assuming they had. Katashi plopped the case files on the library table, eyes looking as deep with death as Takumi's regularly did. If her face portrayed concern, he'd ignored it with a wave. "I gotta find a way to bring these sick bastards to justice."

She peeled back the first page of the folder and looked one child in its grey eyes. A school photo, black-and-white. She turned the page to find an in-color picture of an even younger child, ball in hand, reaching just far enough so that the puppy sharing the frame couldn't grip it between its small, barred teeth. "Do the police know you took this?"

Katashi's cheeks burned, and he waved her off with a snort.

That didn't answer her question, so she'd take the plausible deniability. "Why this case? If it was closed 10 years ago…"

"Trafficking rings don't just disappear, Yoshida-san. They either got better at hiding, or something even worse got to them first."

She turned the page to find photo after photo of ash, charred skulls beyond recognition, and symbols. She frowned. It was hard to see the carving under the ash, but it was an eye, egyptian-looking, eyelashes looking more like the rays of a sun, lower lid looking like a river thick with eyeliner. Claws, razor sharp, sat below and threatened to swallow the eye in their paws. She'd seen it somewhere before. "Did anything come up about these symbols carved in the floor?"

Katashi shook his head and plopped unceremoniously into the seat across from her, huffing and pouting as he leaned forward and dug his jaw into his palm. She nearly giggled at him; instead, she bit the inside of her lip and shook herself of the tickling urge. "No, a friend told me there was nothing and I didn't believe him. Did some digging myself and he wasn't kidding. No mobs, gangs, individuals, cults- anything- associated with that symbol. It's like it was a company brand or something but…"

"That would have come up in the search results."

"Especially in the police database."

"Did you," Ayumi raised an eyebrow "have clearance for that?" Katashi didn't respond, so she made a mental note. Not as by-the-book as I thought. She frowned and skimmed the rest of the folder. The only thing tying the kidnappings back to that burned down building was a small tuft of unburned hair belonging to one of the kidnapped, even more confusing when the body itself didn't turn up in the wreck. "Have you found anything?"

"No. That symbol doesn't show up anywhere else in this city, and I checked abandoned compounds. So if they're still here, they're well-hidden."

Ayumi frowned. She'd have to do some research herself if she was going to help him with this case. She thought about asking Haibara-- Miyano-- because maybe she'd know if she'd worked for that organization Conan took down before he left, but the thought left as quickly as it came. No, she wouldn't answer the call, Ayumi knew this. Stupid. She shook her head. "I'll do some research myself, see if my friends back home may know anything." Sato and Takagi may be able to help. Katashi's eyes leveled with hers, and he looked at her almost quizzically. He huffed into his hand, chin digging into his palm.

"Oi, Yoshida? Don't breathe a word about this to the other two, okay? I don't think that toe-haired idiot would ever let it go if he knew I asked for…" help. The word was right there, but he was too proud to say it. Ayumi didn't dare refrain, she giggled.

"Right, right, not a word to Youta-kun or Akiko-chan! And Katashi-kun?"

"Hm?" He was avoiding eye-contact with her now, taking the folder and stuffing it into his bag. She smiled to herself and placed her hand on his.

He blinked. "You can call me Ayumi-chan!" Katashi seemed to stare at her for a moment. Was he perplexed? Guilty? His eyes read something of sorrow, and she wondered if she should regret saying anything. "Ah, unless…." Her hand twitched, pulled only centimeters away, and he moved agiley to grab her by the wrist. Ayumi glanced down at their hands, then back up at Katashi. His eyes had narrowed with skepticism, or maybe it was vexation. He was hard to read, always looking like he was hiding something, always thinking, and now he seemed to be thinking about her. She only wished she knew what.

"Oi, give me a chance to respond before you get off pouting."

She blanched, nose wrinkling as she tugged her wrist back. His hand followed, grazing the thin of her arm before letting her go. She crossed her arms and stuck her tongue out, like a petulant child. "I wasn't pouting!" Yes she was, and she knew it. She was always the type to open her heart to the world despite the universe's apparent urge to squash that bit of her at random opportunity. She was just trying to be friendly. Katashi was a friend, last names didn't feel right.

"Heh," he stuck his hand in his pocket and threw his bag over his shoulder, nose in the air as he went for the staircase down. "Fine, fine. Whatever you say, Ayumi-chan…"

This ice cream was, no contest, the best she'd ever had. She didn't know how Youta found the place, or how that little old man got the chocolate of her frozen choice to be so creamy, but she found a piece of heaven on earth every time she got a perfectly rounded ball on a perfectly folded cone. Youta pointed out that she'd gotten some on her nose; she wiped it away anxiously.

They took this route on the way to class every other day, treated themselves and each other to a snack whenever they could, not that dairy and ice were all that nutritious. Youta practically insisted every time, and there was no way she could say no when he could so plainly see the drool hanging over her chin. The walk was longer than the closest route to class, but this route was better. She'd missed the company in her high school years, and Youta was nothing if not talkative. She found not a moment dull with him yammering on about football or grades or this case his dad was working on; it made her smile. Youta was smart, she could see that, if not overly sure of himself, and he was kind. He got good grades, knew how to wrap up a wound, did statistics like an actuary. He expressed no interest in following his father's footsteps, least of all in becoming a lawyer. He loved the field, the grass-- the ball and the sneakers. Some evenings, she and Akiko watched Katashi and Youta sparring in an empty lawn, feet moving so fast that she could hardly see the ball until it was dead center in the bushes the boys had deemed "the goal". Youta was so alive, then, always shot her and Akiko a smile and a wink, flexed until Katashi kicked the ball right in his face. He was comfortable, warm, like the first ray of sunlight on an early morning. She eschewed his arrogance and his flirting, but she'd dare say she was warming up to the idiot.

Ayumi laughed at the way Youta tried to lick ice cream off the bridge of his nose, then she glanced at the television display lighting up the store window as they passed. The local news station, playing footage of what looked like a convenience store taped off with yellow. She paused, waited for the Headline to go from "National Donut Day" to something more menacing. The suspected trafficking case was still cold for the moment. Sato and Takagi had been unable to help, had never even heard of the case before she'd brought it up. She was left with little challenge, and a small mystery to quench her thirst was just the thing she needed; the local news did not disappoint.

Kidnappings, so far there had been three of them, one for each month of the new semester. All girls, kidnapped from campus as far as last known witnesses could tell. They each turned up seemingly at random, one at the school's pool, another at the cafe, this one at a convenience store. They were each beaten within inches of their lives, burned, shocked, cut, but it was all done with some form of precision (if she was right about the markings she saw in one photograph). The oddest thing, the woman on the screen narrated, was the inexplicable amnesia each girl had. None had a memory of being kidnapped, nor their time in captivity or kidnapper. It was as though their memories had been erased the way one erases footage from a camera, unnerving to say the least when the human brain was involved. Ayumi frowned and took a contemplative lick of her ice cream.

"Ah, don't worry about all that kidnapping stuff," Youta raised a naked arm, other hand pressing his sleeve up until his bare muscles (of which, she would admit, he had plenty) for the whole street to see. He gave her a wink and a boisterous grin, boyish in nature and cocky. "Nobody's gonna take you while I'm around!" Most men, they'd be joking, and some men, like Genta, would be barking about what they'd sooner cower from. Not Youta, she could tell. He was too genuine, too proud and believed himself much too capable to fear much of anything. She couldn't help herself, she giggled.

"Thank you, Youta-kun, but I'll be just fine!" She waved a dismissive hand his way as she passed him. "One white knight is more than enough…"

She couldn't see the way he watched her behind her back, the tender manner in which his brows creased, or the disquiet settling in his eyes.

The library was quiet at night. University students rarely spent time in its great halls studying on the weekends, and even those dutiful enough were kicked out minutes before the sun began to set. She knew some student librarians stuck around, but there were so few in a building with so many floors. Himura, truly, was a school to behold. For the night though, she would be spending her time scouring the shelves, as there would be plenty of time to stare in awe, later.

The second floor overlooked the first floor on a balcony, green carpeted steps leading up with golden accents and chocolate rails that adorned the railings like artsy fences scaling the outlook. There was another staircase to her right, leading to the third floor, but the second floor's closest wall, filled window to hall with books, was her target. She padded up the staircase with a careful hand at the rail, steps light and slow to avoid detection-- theoretically. She just needed to look at a few items, that's all. She wasn't taking anything. She glanced from right to left and bolted (on the tips of her toes) over to the shelf where the recent magazines were. The one from the top, she snatched it and flipped it open on the table behind her.

The articles didn't have much more than the news story did, but it had pictures. Every girl had blue eyes, light, pretty, like polished angelite. They were all eighteen, new to university like she was, though their backgrounds differed. None of them seemed to have gone to high school in the same area, but they all had the same skin tone with some variations in tan. None of them had any family around, maybe that was the key? Ayumi shook her head. No, she didn't have enough information to go there yet. It would help if I knew exactly what was being done to them. If I could get into the hospital…

There was a creak in the wood; Ayumi jumped.

A girl with two braided pigtails leveled her with an even stare despite the proximity of Ayumi's pepper spray posed inches from her face. Hands on her hips, she raised one to her head with a sigh. "Yoshida-san, what do you think you're doing?"

"Chihiro-chan!"

She readjusted her round glasses with one finger, then waltzed by on feather-light feet. One hand slammed down on the table as Chihiro read over the open page, tossing one ribboned pigtail over her shoulder. Ayumi stood by, awkwardly, uncertainly, shifting from foot to foot and twiddling her thumbs. "I- I was just looking--!"

"At the kidnapping case?"

"Just in case!"

Chihiro watched her, one eye glazed over in the light of the window, the other watching her from the other side of her glasses with contemplation. Ayumi did her best to stand her ground, unsure if a librarian was obligated to report her trespassing to the school. That would be quite the way to end her first semester, she had to admit. Going back to Tokyo with her hopes of moving on, dashed before she had the chance to solve as much as one case. She gave Chihiro her best please-don't-get-me-expelled smile. Chihiro took a deep breath. "You have nothing to worry about, Yoshida-san. The girls this creep is going after are all major loners."

Ayumi, still somewhat unsteady from the generous bout of adrenaline processing in her system, approached the table to point at the headline, Third Kidnapping This Semester. "That's nothing new. Most kidnappers go for easy targets. Girls new to the school and unfamiliar with the area are less likely to have friends."

"That's not all, you know. All of these girls had prior write-ups for misconduct."

"What?"

Chirhio pointed to the first girl, then the next, and the last. "This one punched a guy in the face first week. This one was suspended for a whole month after she got caught bullying some girl. This one cheated our second exam week." Chihiro folded the newspaper into the neat square she'd pulled it in, fingers moving with such grace that Ayumi took a moment to notice how few paper cuts she had for somebody who worked vigorously with textbooks and novels. "Besides, you don't have to worry anyway, Yoshida-san," Their eyes met as Chihiro made one last vertical fold.

Ayumi watched her, patiently. Some part of her worried that this was the moment the mallet would fall, that Chihiro would tell her she was reporting her to the campus heads, that she'd have to fight to stay in a university she'd worked so hard to get into.

Chihiro placed the newspaper back on the shelf, turning to her with a red-cheeked pout, and a side-eye that could kill. "No kidnapper would dare take somebody surrounded by admirers seven days a week."

Ayumi's cheeks lit up, and she hurried to deny, deny, deny.

She knew she was groaning a lot, perhaps the measure would be more than that of a bearable amount, but she was tired. Despite hounding and bugging and, in one case, jumping out from behind a tree and startling, the local police about the hospital the kidnapped girls resided in, she'd come back with hands so empty she swore the skin had been scraped off. They'd been kind enough to give her some details-- internal bleeding, burns to the scalp, lots of scarred tissue, and yet no trauma to the cranium (as far as x-rays could tell). They wouldn't let Ayumi see them, talk to them, no matter how desperately she pleaded (though they let her know, when she grew distraught, that the girls were expected to make a full recovery-- which helped, it helped a lot). A lesser girl, or maybe just a girl a few years greener, might have stooped to crying. But Ayumi was a woman now, and no way was a case going to frustrate her to tears. So instead, she'd toss and turn at night and grumble all morning.

"Oi, oi, Ayumi-chan," Katashi nudged her with his arm. "You're annoying. What's with all the unattractive moaning?"

She perked up, unintentionally raising a hand to her lips. "Unattractive?"

"Yeah, you kinda sound like a hungry mountain lion!" Youta's warm smile usually helped, but she was on the receiving end of his taunts this time, and dammit if she didn't feel like making the jerks carry her to class.

"It's nothing, I just didn't sleep well."

"Yeah," Youta taunted on. "What kept you up? The evil witch of Himura stealing your youth?"

"Cut it out! I'm already losing sleep! I don't need to be scared out of bed!"

"Hah hah! Look at your face! You don't think the Witch exists do you?"

"What witch? Stop making things up!"

The group of three passed by the store once more, where the TV display was alive and blaring, painting the screen with cross tape and blue headlines. Katashi watched it as they passed, eyes narrowing as blue and yellow seemed to twist and fall into misshapen hues, fading until the screen was red.

#detective conan #Ayumi Yoshida #Conan Edogawa #shinichi kudo #ai haibara #shiho miyano #genta kojima #mitsuhiko tsuburaya #Katashi Sasaki #Youta Oshiro #Chihiro Akiyama

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