Post by TinyTantei on Mar 19, 2015 8:33:35 GMT
Summary: Yoshida Ayumi, contrary to popular belief, is not stupid. Which is why, that particular night, she ends up looking no further than the agency next door, long forgotten, much like the answer she seeks. Maybe, just maybe, she can seek some help.
Oh gosh, I'm not sure how this came out, but...I like it? Here it is on FFN, because it's a bit more well
Important: AU/alternate ending where Shinichi de-ages ten years every, well, ten years. Haibara doesn't, but that's because she takes a different version of the APTX. Warning for mild language!
Enjoy!
Yoshida Ayumi is not stupid. She's naive, yes, and perhaps too nice for her own good, admittedly to a fault. But she's anything but stupid.
And that in itself is why she's standing in front of the Mouri Detective Agency, an old relic of the past with boarded up windows and a faded Coming Soon! flyer. The dojo in its stead has been coming soon for a long while, but she still knows that the woman she's looking for will be behind those walls, as she's been every day after nine o'clock for four years and eight months. Exactly.
She hesitates to knock on the door, her sixteen-year old body freezing at the thought of what may lie ahead. Answers to questions she's forced herself to ask? Even more dead ends that all stop at the name she doesn't want to hear? The thought scares her, if she has to be completely honest with herself, the idea that the trail will go cold and yet, and yet, become so hot that she can't possibly continue the search for clues that she has put herself on.
Hot, cold, what does it matter anymore? All that matters is the one truth, if what Conan has told her for years is anything to go by. With one final shake of her head, Ayumi knocks on the door.
"Conan? Where have you gone? We've been worried sick!" She's not the only one sick, apparently, as Edogawa Conan groans in what seems like pain, and the voice of Haibara Ai resonates in the background for him to turn the damned phone off. "Listen, if you're not feeling good, the boys and I can-"
"No!" His voice is insistent, and just the tiniest bit panicked, something unusual for the usually confident high school detective. "I'm fine, Ayumi, I just- I just need some rest, okay? Go find a case or something."
She plays nervously with her bottom lip for a moment before nodding, despite Conan's inability to see her. "All right," she says finally, sighing softly. "But get better soon, or I'll have Genta bust down your door." There's a muffled laugh-cough on the other side, along with a yelp as Ai undoubtedly smacks her sick patient upside the head. "We'll see you soon, Conan."
The pause between her words and his isn't that long, but noticeable enough for her to worry. "Yeah. See you soon, Ayumi."
The voices that Ayumi hears behind the door before she even makes her presence known as loud, heated and in the middle of an argument. One of them is clearly Ai, her usually soft-spoken eloquence replaced with an angry torrent of insults. "Are you stupid?" She practically shouts, and a slam is heard, perhaps one of her medical cabinets being forced shut. "Shinichi, you can't be serious. Was three years really not enough for you?"
"I can handle it this time!" The second voice, however, is not recognizable, even though its squeaky lilt sparks something in her mind. The voice's owner is familiar, too, the name Shinichi resounding with vague memories of a boy beloved by her sister figure. But it can't be the same Shinichi, not when he's been missing - dead - for six years and, hell, would be at least twenty-six regardless. The voice sounds like an elementary schooler, not a suave middle-aged man.
Ai's speaking again, her anger dissolving into impatience. "You can't handle it this time, because you didn't handle it last time." There's a snort of contempt, another slamming sound, and then a surprised yelp as something crashes onto the ground. "I'm done, Shinichi. I'm not going to make any more antidote because god forbid I die doing it and you find yourself trying to explain away why you disappeared for good."
Antidote? Disappeared? Before she can fully comprehend the words, 'Shinichi's' voice ricochets back, angry and disbelieving. "That was...Haibara, you complete bitch."
A long silence stretches between them, before Ai finally replies, her voice back to the iciness that always sends a chill down the Shounen Tanteidan's collective spines. "All right," she mutters lowly, so quietly that Ayumi has to strain to hear it. "I'll take that title. But if you're looking for assistance, Kudo, you won't find it here."
Footsteps draw closer from inside the room, and Ayumi ducks behind the door. She barely has a few seconds to feel grateful for the cover before it swings open, and a dark-haired child storms away, a child of barely three feet yet the aura of somebody who isn't to be provoked. He doesn't notice her, something she feels like she should be glad of but unsure why she should feel thus, and the door slams behind him, a furious bang resounding with only a modicum of the expression she had fleetingly seen on his face.
After a moment of silence, Ayumi steps away from the door and walks away. Maybe it would be best to visit tomorrow.
"We're getting worried!"
"Then stop getting worried!"
Ayumi doesn't know what she's more upset about, the fact that Conan hasn't let them visit him in two weeks or the fact that he has the gall to yell at her over the phone when all she's trying to do is be a good friend. "How can we stop getting worried when you're the idiot locking himself up in his room?" There are tears rolling down her cheek now, not many but enough for her to sniff slightly. "Don't do this, Conan! We're your friends, we're here for you-"
"Then go away." His voice has turned tired all too quickly, going from the loud-mouthed know-it-all that she knows he can be to the kid who sounds so much older than he really is. It's that voice that makes her hurt the most, where she feels miles away from him even if he's just a few steps inside the house that she's found herself unable to enter. He's changed the locks since she's last used the key he gave her, and that almost hurts worse than their current argument. "I don't need your pity, okay? I'm doing fine, I can handle things by myself."
Her vision grows red at the word pity, and by the time he finishes his statement, she's close to screaming into the phone. But she steadies herself, holds her breath and counts to ten, finally replies as rationally as she possibly can in her situation. The words that she uses are harsh, but she doesn't care, not now and not later after she's calmed down enough to know what has to be done.
"Then do things by yourself, for all I care. I'm giving up on you. But for the love of god, Edogawa Conan, I've only been trying to help."
Help, help... That single word still resonates in her as she receives no answer from the knock, and hesitantly opens the door to the would-be dojo. The hinges creak ever so slightly, and it's enough to garner the attention of the woman sitting at a desk that doesn't belong in a martial arts dojo, but has no value anywhere else than where it is sitting at that very moment. "Ayumi," she speaks up, surprised. "Why are you here so late?"
"Ran-neechan..." As soon as she sees Ran's face, sees her voice, she finds it hard to speak. All of those doubts are rushing back, about questions and answers and confusion and the truth and-
"Shouldn't you be at home, sleeping?" The way that Ran looks at her, as though she's till six and that nothing has changed, is what makes her flinch before gathering her wits about her. "It's dangerous in here, with all the boards and-"
"Ran-neechan, I need to talk to you." Her words spill out of her mouth of their own volition, and she realizes, quite suddenly and quite unexpectedly, that the word help is trembling on her upper lip. It doesn't make it all the way out, but her next words are the ones that she want to say anyways, and they help sweep away the clutter in her mind, the puzzle pieces that she would usually leave laying around for Conan but have long since been abandoned.
She takes a deep breath, looks straight at Mouri Ran as though her life depends on it, and speaks.
"Tell me about Kudo Shinichi."
Oh gosh, I'm not sure how this came out, but...I like it? Here it is on FFN, because it's a bit more well
Important: AU/alternate ending where Shinichi de-ages ten years every, well, ten years. Haibara doesn't, but that's because she takes a different version of the APTX. Warning for mild language!
Enjoy!
AND THUS, THE WHEEL
"And thus the wheel of fate spins on, its spokes poking holes in the same fallacies every revolution."
-SMF
Yoshida Ayumi is not stupid. She's naive, yes, and perhaps too nice for her own good, admittedly to a fault. But she's anything but stupid.
And that in itself is why she's standing in front of the Mouri Detective Agency, an old relic of the past with boarded up windows and a faded Coming Soon! flyer. The dojo in its stead has been coming soon for a long while, but she still knows that the woman she's looking for will be behind those walls, as she's been every day after nine o'clock for four years and eight months. Exactly.
She hesitates to knock on the door, her sixteen-year old body freezing at the thought of what may lie ahead. Answers to questions she's forced herself to ask? Even more dead ends that all stop at the name she doesn't want to hear? The thought scares her, if she has to be completely honest with herself, the idea that the trail will go cold and yet, and yet, become so hot that she can't possibly continue the search for clues that she has put herself on.
Hot, cold, what does it matter anymore? All that matters is the one truth, if what Conan has told her for years is anything to go by. With one final shake of her head, Ayumi knocks on the door.
"Conan? Where have you gone? We've been worried sick!" She's not the only one sick, apparently, as Edogawa Conan groans in what seems like pain, and the voice of Haibara Ai resonates in the background for him to turn the damned phone off. "Listen, if you're not feeling good, the boys and I can-"
"No!" His voice is insistent, and just the tiniest bit panicked, something unusual for the usually confident high school detective. "I'm fine, Ayumi, I just- I just need some rest, okay? Go find a case or something."
She plays nervously with her bottom lip for a moment before nodding, despite Conan's inability to see her. "All right," she says finally, sighing softly. "But get better soon, or I'll have Genta bust down your door." There's a muffled laugh-cough on the other side, along with a yelp as Ai undoubtedly smacks her sick patient upside the head. "We'll see you soon, Conan."
The pause between her words and his isn't that long, but noticeable enough for her to worry. "Yeah. See you soon, Ayumi."
The voices that Ayumi hears behind the door before she even makes her presence known as loud, heated and in the middle of an argument. One of them is clearly Ai, her usually soft-spoken eloquence replaced with an angry torrent of insults. "Are you stupid?" She practically shouts, and a slam is heard, perhaps one of her medical cabinets being forced shut. "Shinichi, you can't be serious. Was three years really not enough for you?"
"I can handle it this time!" The second voice, however, is not recognizable, even though its squeaky lilt sparks something in her mind. The voice's owner is familiar, too, the name Shinichi resounding with vague memories of a boy beloved by her sister figure. But it can't be the same Shinichi, not when he's been missing - dead - for six years and, hell, would be at least twenty-six regardless. The voice sounds like an elementary schooler, not a suave middle-aged man.
Ai's speaking again, her anger dissolving into impatience. "You can't handle it this time, because you didn't handle it last time." There's a snort of contempt, another slamming sound, and then a surprised yelp as something crashes onto the ground. "I'm done, Shinichi. I'm not going to make any more antidote because god forbid I die doing it and you find yourself trying to explain away why you disappeared for good."
Antidote? Disappeared? Before she can fully comprehend the words, 'Shinichi's' voice ricochets back, angry and disbelieving. "That was...Haibara, you complete bitch."
A long silence stretches between them, before Ai finally replies, her voice back to the iciness that always sends a chill down the Shounen Tanteidan's collective spines. "All right," she mutters lowly, so quietly that Ayumi has to strain to hear it. "I'll take that title. But if you're looking for assistance, Kudo, you won't find it here."
Footsteps draw closer from inside the room, and Ayumi ducks behind the door. She barely has a few seconds to feel grateful for the cover before it swings open, and a dark-haired child storms away, a child of barely three feet yet the aura of somebody who isn't to be provoked. He doesn't notice her, something she feels like she should be glad of but unsure why she should feel thus, and the door slams behind him, a furious bang resounding with only a modicum of the expression she had fleetingly seen on his face.
After a moment of silence, Ayumi steps away from the door and walks away. Maybe it would be best to visit tomorrow.
"We're getting worried!"
"Then stop getting worried!"
Ayumi doesn't know what she's more upset about, the fact that Conan hasn't let them visit him in two weeks or the fact that he has the gall to yell at her over the phone when all she's trying to do is be a good friend. "How can we stop getting worried when you're the idiot locking himself up in his room?" There are tears rolling down her cheek now, not many but enough for her to sniff slightly. "Don't do this, Conan! We're your friends, we're here for you-"
"Then go away." His voice has turned tired all too quickly, going from the loud-mouthed know-it-all that she knows he can be to the kid who sounds so much older than he really is. It's that voice that makes her hurt the most, where she feels miles away from him even if he's just a few steps inside the house that she's found herself unable to enter. He's changed the locks since she's last used the key he gave her, and that almost hurts worse than their current argument. "I don't need your pity, okay? I'm doing fine, I can handle things by myself."
Her vision grows red at the word pity, and by the time he finishes his statement, she's close to screaming into the phone. But she steadies herself, holds her breath and counts to ten, finally replies as rationally as she possibly can in her situation. The words that she uses are harsh, but she doesn't care, not now and not later after she's calmed down enough to know what has to be done.
"Then do things by yourself, for all I care. I'm giving up on you. But for the love of god, Edogawa Conan, I've only been trying to help."
Help, help... That single word still resonates in her as she receives no answer from the knock, and hesitantly opens the door to the would-be dojo. The hinges creak ever so slightly, and it's enough to garner the attention of the woman sitting at a desk that doesn't belong in a martial arts dojo, but has no value anywhere else than where it is sitting at that very moment. "Ayumi," she speaks up, surprised. "Why are you here so late?"
"Ran-neechan..." As soon as she sees Ran's face, sees her voice, she finds it hard to speak. All of those doubts are rushing back, about questions and answers and confusion and the truth and-
"Shouldn't you be at home, sleeping?" The way that Ran looks at her, as though she's till six and that nothing has changed, is what makes her flinch before gathering her wits about her. "It's dangerous in here, with all the boards and-"
"Ran-neechan, I need to talk to you." Her words spill out of her mouth of their own volition, and she realizes, quite suddenly and quite unexpectedly, that the word help is trembling on her upper lip. It doesn't make it all the way out, but her next words are the ones that she want to say anyways, and they help sweep away the clutter in her mind, the puzzle pieces that she would usually leave laying around for Conan but have long since been abandoned.
She takes a deep breath, looks straight at Mouri Ran as though her life depends on it, and speaks.
"Tell me about Kudo Shinichi."