I was so excited to rewatch whatever detco episodes they put on Netflix cuz I was just really really excited. THEY PUT 9 EPISODES ON. 9!!!
And not even the first 9 episodes it’s 9 episodes they picked out (1, 2, 128, 129, 176, 177, 178, 230, 231) and they called this arc (if you can call it that) “Conan vs the black organisation”.
This pisses me off for so many reasons. They missed many episodes that I would argue are quite important when understanding the ones they did put on, which again is not that many. Anyone interested in seeing the show for the first time would be sooo confused.
And also the whole show is Conan vs the black organisation so why would they cherry pick 9 “important” episodes and call it that. All he wants to do is take them down and return to his original body like what were they thinking.
If they wanted to cut down on how many episodes they released they could’ve started with just season 1 or at least all the episodes that include the black organisation (which is only 90 in the whole series). Even that would’ve been a disaster honestly because so much of the show is not episodes with the black organisation and this would have soo many spoilers and characters you barely know anything about because they were fleshed out in other episodes.
They could’ve released it by arc. They’ve included episodes from both the Conan (1-128) and sherry (129-178) arc. And even the start if the vermouth arc! That is soo much missed info and background knowledge.
You see nothing of the characters and their developments in the background. Missed very iconic and famous cases and the introduction of so many important side characters! Heiji and Kaito being some of them. The detective boys as well. Characters like Jodie and Araide (who play a very important role in the vermouth arc) just sort of suddenly appear in an episode randomly, would it have been so hard to include the episodes they were introduced? Considering this is actually really important later on.
Anyway I really hope they put more episodes on or at least very clearly mark that there are big gaps in between the episodes they have put on so anyone interested doesn’t get confused.
Anyway apologies for the rant I was just so excited to rewatch the show that honestly got me into fandom properly and actually writing fanfics and introduced me to ao3.
pairing: sanemi x giyuu
prompt: a room that feels lonely
note: for day 1 of dreadcember by @monthlywritingchallenges
Giyuu rolled onto his side, awakened by the chilled morning air. His covers were uneven, the sheets wrinkled and worn. He smoothed the wrinkles with his calloused palm and pressed into the futon, hand flush against the soft contours. With his other hand tucked under his head, he dragged his fingertips over the pillow beside him.
He stared and stared, eyes readjusting, as if staring harder would help the figure he desperately sought to conceive materialize before him. He traced the subtle indent of the pillow, watching the hazy glow of daybreak restore color to his white sheets. It pulsed and retracted, spreading and receding like spilled ink across a reeling canvas.
Giyuu followed its path with bated breath. He shivered and tugged the covers over his shoulders. He brought his knees to his chest and curled toward the sunrise, waiting for the warmth to settle, but it never did.
He unfocused his eyes and watched the phantasmic shapes collapse into each other. They appeared nebulous at first. Slowly, they grew darker and rougher, sharper and louder. Eventually, he found himself staring at a distortion of serrated scars and purple specks. He stared and stared into the eyes that beckoned him with hated, disgust, desire, rapture, but never warmth. Sand scratched at his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut.
Giyuu knew the conditions of their so-called meetings. Sanemi was to never stay longer than he needed to, as if the implications carried a weight far greater than their sacrilegious partnership. Yet the Wind Hashira insisted.
“It’s better off this way,” he muttered as he fastened his belt.
Giyuu watched Sanemi’s silver strands glisten under the moonlight. He made no move to stop him from leaving but the willfulness in his voice betrayed him.
“I see.”
“Don’t forget who proposed this, Tomioka.” Sanemi’s back was turned to him, the expanse hiding flushed streaks underneath the haori.
Giyuu wished Sanemi forgot.
“How come it’s always at my place?”
Sanemi paused. He had one foot out the door. With a harsh chortle, he looked at Giyuu.
“Why would it be at my place?”
The door slid close. The wooden thud ricocheted off the walls of the room, landing in the hollows of Giyuu’s chest.
He splayed his hand across the empty space beside him. The cool night air was tinged with Sanemi’s scent.
Giyuu knew the conditions of their meetings because he was the one to suggest they established them in the first place. He thought it would prevent an unnecessary emotional entanglement. Damage control, essentially.
Yet the more they met, the more the lines blurred. He found himself contesting the very safeguards he imposed only to realize that they were useless.
Sanemi didn’t need them at all.
Giyuu opened his eyes and saw the blinds teeming with light. He tore his gaze away and exhaled.
characters: giyuu tomioka
prompt: anxiety
note: day 5 of @hurtcember
Tonight, the moon was dim, shielded by leaden clouds and mist. Dusk’s canines latched onto every morsel of moonlight and shredded them into ash and dust, blanketing the forest floor. The fraught wind battered against Giyuu’s windows in tandem with his heartbeat. He sat on a tatami mat, palms propped on his knees as he counted.
One.. two. One.. two. One.. two— Bang!
Teeth sliced through his roof and descended upon him, suspended by a hairsbreadth. The wind clawed at cracks and crevices, losing sync with Giyuu’s heart, which raged on, louder and faster. One chased two. Two chased one. And Giyuu chased his breath.
He couldn’t breathe.
Giyuu balled his fists and dug his nails into his palms. His veins protruded. Hot blood pumped beneath the thin barrier of his skin, drumming in his ears like a taunt, threatening to burst.
You’re weak, it hissed. You don’t deserve to be here.
One, two.
You’re a pathetic excuse for a pillar. An eyesore of a human.
One, two. One—
Trying to breathe? Do you have a reason to?
Bang!
Giyuu felt the surface of his skin peel. His nails dug into the ravine of the body he called his own, searching for something to grasp onto. Plunging into his recesses, he inhaled sharply and sunk his teeth in.
One.
He opened his eyes to find moonlight at his knees. Gusts howled ravenously, furious. He unfurled his hand across the shadows, fingers taut, cold flesh flushed with unhealed bruises from a recent mission.
Silver light settled beneath his pulse like a gentle caress and spilled into him, washing away tatters of the violent storm. Like a beacon, it perched at his precipice and fluttered twice before setting the night aflame.
Ayatsuji is being plagued with nightmares of Tsujimura dying. And this case feels very familiar.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/81576766
~ ♡ ~
Ayatsuji was being tormented.
His life was no walk in the park, that was for sure, but recently it felt like everything was converging to make it harder.
More specifically, he was being plagued by nightmares.
For the last month, every night he’d wake in a cold sweat, confused and honestly a little sick.
Most of the time, he couldn't even remember what it was he'd dreamt about. Maybe a flicker of teal hair or blood.
Sometimes he was less lucky.
He'd watch as an ability tore Tsujimura apart. A villain he couldn't catch fast enough, Shadowling malfunctioning, or his own ability being used, manipulated into targeting her.
And each time, he couldn't do anything but stand there and watch as fate unrolls its punishment on her. The hardest part was seeing the look of horror on her face as she realised there's nothing anyone can do to save her.
Sometimes it would be quick. A slit throat, a shot to the heart or head. It would be painless. He wouldn't even have time to react before the shock woke him up.
Other times it was drawn out and sickening. A pierced lung that meant she was slowly choking on her own blood, trying to reassure him that everything would be fine as he cradled her coldening body. Or multiple gunshot wounds, draining her as she tried to reach him, to protect him, even as she was dying.
The worst nights were the ones where he'd watch his ability take effect and kill her. He'd watch as a ledge broke and she fell to her death, or her gun misfires, splattering blood and brain on him. The cruellest one had to be the time she had fallen onto a statue, piercing her body on its spokes. The impact hadn't killed her; the shock and blood loss had.
He wasn't able to face her on those days.
~ ♡ ~
Today's dream hadn't been any less sparing.
He stood, unable to move, as she was killed by a falling pane of glass, oddly reminiscent of an old case of theirs. He stood, covered in blood, as her body lay there, almost split in two. He stood there until he woke up.
Trying to breathe normally, he sat up. He was covered in sweat, something not uncommon during these episodes. He just sat for a while, his head in his arms, his knees drawn up; this was getting tiring.
Steeling his nerves, he got up. What he needed was a shower and a change of clothes, and there was no way he was going to be able to fall back asleep. Not with the image of Tsujimura on the ground flashing in his mind every time he shut his eyes too long.
“Having trouble sleeping, Ayatsuji-kun?” A voice sounded from the chair. Ayatsuji groaned; the last thing he needed to hear was that voice.
“Shut up, Kyogoku.” He got up, starting to feel disgusting from all the sweat.
“My oh my, someone's awful touchy so early in the morning.” Ayatsuji rifled through his wardrobe, trying to ignore the leering voice trying to get him to react. “What happened? Dreamt that your little assistant died again? What was it this time? A stabbing, a gunshot?”
Ayatsuji glared at him once again before slamming shut the bathroom door.
He let the warm water soothe him. It took a while to get his footing back and actually shower, but it felt much more comforting than he had expected it to be.
It was sad to say, but this had become the norm for him, being startled awake around 3 am, and it was draining him. More than any case he’d ever worked.
He settled into his chair after making himself a cup of tea. Reading usually kept his mind off the nightmares until he had to face Tsujimura as she started her shift for the day. Seeing her face on the days he watched his ability kill her was the most difficult. He couldn't see her smiling face without thinking of the cold, lifeless one he could do nothing to save.
~ ♡ ~
Tsujimura came in at 8 AM like she usually does, carrying her favourite latte, a message scribbled on the side. She once mentioned the fact that the barista would write little messages if she looked down that morning she had smiled at the cup a she told him. So the day seemed to have gotten off to a bad start for her; that made two of them.
“Good morning, Sensei!” God, he hated how cheerful she could make herself sound.
“For whom? It's clear we've both had a pretty shitty morning already.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“It's my job, Tsujimura, what happened this time? Sakaguchi chew you out for messing up again?”
“Huh, no? I have to work overtime for the next week to catch up on that incident.”
“Well, good luck to the division.”
“Um, thank you? Why did you have a bad morning? Was it Kyogoku?” Tsujimura organised the files for their current case.
“Don't we have work to do? Don't you need to get back to finish all that paperwork?”
“Oh yes,” she passed over the files, “We have a serial killer on our hands.”
“Ah, this is one of mine,” Kyogoku was standing behind Ayatsuji, reading over his shoulder. “She’s not one of my best, I'm sure you'll figure it out quickly.”
“Shut up, old man,” he ground out as quietly as possible.
“Did you say something, Sensei?” Tsujimura looked up from her own copy of the files. He shook his head, silently swatting at the man once she turned away.
“So? Is there a body for me to see?”
“Yes, we received a call from the Yokohama police about a body discovered in a children's park.”
Ayatsuji stilled at those words. The case in his dream had started the same way. A body at a children's park, leading to a construction site, leading to her death.
Tsujimura downed the last of her coffee and got up, “They're waiting for us on the scene.”
“Let's not keep them any longer then.” He let her step out first, taking a bit of time to put on his coat. Once he was alone, he turned to Kyogoku, “I don't want to see you around us today. Save it with the 'Oh, I can help', I do not need it.”
“Sensei! You ready?”
He shot one last glare at the man lounging on his sofa, “Calm down, I was missing a glove.”
~ ♡ ~
They pulled up to the crime scene, there were already multiple police cars cordoning off the area. A few curious elderly people were gathered, trying to press a newbie officer for some information about what had happened in their neighbourhood.
Tsujimura pulled out her badge, and a different officer lifted the tape for them to enter.
A middle-aged man greeted them, but his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. “Agent, thank you for responding. I've been told that this case is being moved under your department's purview.”
“Officer Minoura, the top brass felt this was above the metropolitan police department's capabilities. There is a question of an ability user being involved. After all 8 bodies, and you haven't been able to find a single trace of the killer.”
His face soured at her implications.
“Of course, we just want the killer to be caught,” she quickly added. “The same as you.”
“Yes, of course.” He led them towards the body, which was a young man. His hands and legs had been bound, he was shot 4 times and then left to bleed out in a public area. A commuter had seen the body whilst walking to the bus stop.
“And we're sure this is the same killer? Not a copy?”
“This letter was found on him.”
The handwriting and style matched the other victims. It was a cryptic message that had yet to be solved by the police. Ayatsuji glanced at the piece of paper before resuming his walk around the crime scene.
Tsujimura finished talking to the forensic team and the other officers before catching up with him. He was sitting at the bus stop near the scene. The one the unlucky civilian had been walking to as he discovered the body.
“The forensics team can't be sure until an autopsy is complete, but they would put the time of death around 4 am. The wounds he sustained would've meant he bled out pretty fast. They couldn't find the bullets, but he was definitely shot in the park. They must've used a silencer.”
“Tsujimura, who do you think the killer is?”
“Huh? Me?” He never asked for her opinion in a case. Actually, he discouraged her from voicing her thoughts because it quote 'made him lose brain cells'.
“Yes, is there anyone else named Tsujimura around?”
“I guess not,” she fiddled with her fingers. She hadn't had much time to consider the full case. “From what I've read, all the victims have been young males. The killer abducts them, ties them up and then shoots them four times. The shots aren't fatal, and if found quickly, could technically be treatable. However, they are left in the middle of the night to bleed out.”
“And? So far, you've recited what the reports have said. If you want to be a detective, you need to start thinking for yourself.”
Tsujimura glared at him, “I think the killer is a woman.”
Ayatsuji didn't react, so she took it as a signal to continue.
“The abandonment of the bodies suggests something personal, I can't put my finger on it, but it feels like a woman did this.” She flicked through her notes, trying to think of something else to say.
“Kyogoku has already confirmed as such; this is one of his.”
“Kyogoku? Is he here right now?” She glanced around the stop they were sat at, usually Kyogoku's presence brought about an uncomfortable feeling, like he was still around.
“No, he saw the file when you gave it to me at the office.”
“I always forget he's around. I don't like it.” She shivered slightly, thinking about it. He could be watching anything they did.
“Try waking up and seeing him leaning over you.”
Tsujimura chuckled. Ayatsuji was rarely candid with her, all official and case-y or insulting her. “I think we should try finding a link to all the victims.”
Ayatsuji stood back up. The faster they finished this, the less he had to face her today. “That's already been done; all the victims were at bars or clubs shortly before being abducted.”
“No, they weren't. Multiple victims were last seen nowhere near a club or bar. And what about the message?”
“Key word being seen, you are relying on witnesses to have seen the victims at these places.” He walked past the crime scene and towards her car. “They were there to make moves on women who were too drunk. No need for them to stick around long enough to be seen and identified.”
Tsujimura chased after him, “But they picked up the killer instead?”
“No,” he slipped back into the backseat.
Tsujimura jogged round to the driver's side, clambering in as fast as she could before he decided not to tell her, “What do you mean? How did the killer get to these men then? And the messages?”
“The messages mean nothing, now just drive. I'll explain when we get there.”
~ ♡ ~
Tsujimura pulled up to a motel. The area was known for criminal activity, the entrance was hard to see from the main road, and there were clearly no cameras around.
“A run-down motel?”
“Where do you think these men went with the girls they found?” Ayatsuji was thankful that the case had diverged from his dream, but he couldn't let his guard down now.
They made their way toward the entrance of the building. There were multiple signs saying it was cash only, the AC unit was clearly broken, and there was staleness to the air. An elderly lady was sitting at the front desk.
“Room for two?” She said, not bothering to look up from her books.
“No,” Tsujimura coughed, trying to get the lady to look up. She tapped her badge on the desk, and the lady gave an exasperated groan as she finally took notice of the badge. “We need to take a look around.”
“Do you have a warrant?” The lady continued to pay them no interest.
“You misunderstand.” Tsujimura leaned over to shut the book she was writing in. “We're not the police, and if you don't let us through, you will be arrested for aiding in multiple crimes we have proof were committed on your premises.”
That seemed to give her pause, and she noncommittally waved them away, “Fine, go on through, not many people around today anyway. If you scare away my customers, I will sue your department.”
“I think after this, you may have other things to worry about. But thank you for your kind cooperation with our investigation.” Tsujimura smiled as sweetly as she could.
They climbed the dingy stairs to the first floor of rooms, and Ayatsuji froze.
This is the corridor from his dream.
“Sensei? Everything okay?”
“Huh?” He felt his surroundings swim. He looked up at Tsujimura, but all he could see was blood. Paleness. Her body split in two. His legs buckled, and his lungs felt like they weren't expanding enough.
Tsujimura knelt next to him, “Sensei! You need to breathe!”
Why was this happening to him?
“Sensei, wait, you need to calm down.”
Calm down?! Who would've guessed?
“Let me get you some water or something.” Ayatsuji watched as she stepped away, just like his dream. And he couldn't stop her.
Tsujimura found a staff member cleaning a room, “Excuse me, sorry, is there anywhere I can get some water?”
The meek woman looked confused to see her. “Oh um, yeah, sure,” she handed over one of the bottles placed on the table for guests.
Tsujimura thanked her as she took it, “Oh, do you shoot?”
“Sorry?” The woman retracted her hands and rubbed them together, a little shocked by the question.
“Oh, it's just you have some marks on your hand. I had the same when I started training, and I had a bad grip on my… gun…” Tsujimura paused. Why would a cleaning woman have wounds related to firing a gun?
“Agent,” the woman pulled out her gun, “you never should've come here.”
“Wai—” Tsujimura could barely draw her own weapon as she felt a searing pain in her arm. She gasped, shocked at first, then from the pain of trying to put some pressure on the wound. “You don't want to do this.”
“Hah, the only reason I got away with it for so long is because the government doesn't care about women like them, like me.”
Tsujimura made another attempt to draw her weapon while she seemed preoccupied with her rant, but was met with another shot to her leg. Why did she keep getting shot in the thigh? She sank to the floor and felt a leg press her down further, not letting her move.
“Poor little Agent, I'm sure you would've tried to help. Probably overworked yourself and found nothing. Just like they always do.” She gave her one last shove before walking off, “Time to go kill the other one.”
“Wait, if you go out there, you will die. Just turn yourself in, and maybe you can get leniency.”
“Yeah, save it.” She shut the door to the room. “All you government dogs do is lie.”
~ ♡ ~
Ayatsuji had started to breathe normally again; he needed to go after Tsujimura. He couldn't let her die this time. Because this time it wouldn't just be a dream.
He had managed to clamber to his feet when he heard a shot ring out. “Tsujimura!” Just as he began running toward the sound, another rang out, and a door slammed shut.
The footsteps rang out loudly; he couldn't work out whose they were, and he couldn't focus on anything but the sound of his blood squeezing through his body. He followed the footsteps up the stairs. The door to the roof was ajar, so he pushed past it.
The light was brighter than he expected, and he felt sick after running up three flights of stairs.
“Tsujimura?”
“So that's her name, a pity she seemed like a nice girl.” Ayatsuji turned to see the woman, pointing her gun at him.
“How predictable, all you criminals are the same.”
“Don't lump me in with those despicable men. I was doing what you useless government idiots could not.” Ayatsuji had his hands up, carefully putting some more distance between them.
“I would sympathise.” They were slowly circling each other. “Unfortunately, the scales of justice do not lean in your favour, especially after you asked Kyogoku for help.”
“The world is not black and white, Homicide Detective.”
“So you know who I am? Then you know that you don't have much longer.” He stopped moving completely.
“Hard not to. It's a pity I'm going to have to kill you, I'm told, even after your death, your ability will exact justice, and nothing can stop it once activated.”
Ayatsuji leaned over to check the distance from the roof to the ground. Would he survive the fall?
“There's nowhere for you to go now.” She cocked the pistol, “How funny, special A-Grade dangerous skill user Ayatsuji Yukito dying because of a simple woman.”
Ayatsuji knew this day would come someday, and he thought he had made peace with that fact, but standing here now, he wanted nothing more than to know she was safe.
He shut his eyes and waited for a shot. But when it finally rang out, he felt nothing. Was this what death felt like?
“You should've killed me bitch.” Tsujimura was standing at the door, barely holding herself up. She'd shot the killer's arm by the look of things.
“Why won't you people just die?” The woman ground out, growing even more annoyed.
“Sensei, are you okay?”
“Doing better than you, it would seem.”
“Stop ignoring me!” The killer charged at Ayatsuji, having been disarmed, intending to take her down with him. However, her leg caught on a loose tile; all he had to do was step aside, sending her careening over the side of the building.
Ayatsuji didn't bother to look; she was no doubt dead, and he had more pressing things to worry about. He ran towards Tsujimura and caught her as she slumped forward. He was applying pressure to her wounds to stem some of the bleeding as he took stock of the rest of her injuries. It took a different level of dedication to even be moving in this state. She was way too loyal to this job.
He needed to get her to help, so pulling her into his arms, he stood up. “You idiot, why were you even moving in this state?”
“I just saved you, and this is thanks I get?” She whispered to him, her breath tickling his neck.
“Stop talking and conserve your energy. Did you even call for help?”
“Yeah, senpai's sending an ambulance and the police.”
Ayatsuji often teased her for her rigidity in following protocol, but he found himself thanking her for it too often these days. And for the one with a constant threat of death hanging over him, he was spending too much time covered in her blood.
By the time he'd made it down the stairs, the sound of sirens had filled the surrounding area. He handed Tsujimura over to a paramedic to be strapped into an ambulance.
As he was getting in to follow her, Minoura stopped him, “You could've just told us, we could've provided back up.”
“If we regularly needed back up, they wouldn't send us to solve cases that take the police months.”
Minoura didn't bother to hide his annoyance, “Well, we don't have the luxury of picking what cases we work. We serve the community.”
Ayatsuji glared, “If that was correct, we wouldn't have killers like her. Anyway, your culprit is the back courtyard if you want to slap your cuffs on her dead body.” With that, he slammed the ambulance doors shut.
He watched as the paramedic hung bags of fluid and set up oxygen for her. She seemed barely awake, but he knew she would pull through; she always did.
characters: giyuu & tsutako
prompt: the light that flickers
note: for day 2 of dreadcember by @monthlywritingchallenges
Giyuu liked to stay up during the summer to watch the darkness blink. He perched on the engawa, a tray of unfinished tea sitting forlorn beside a resting palm.
Dark blue eyes flitted between countless glowing embers. A sinuous mist of dusk settled over Giyuu’s garden—a generous title for the charming sparseness—and surmounted the skull of the forest lying beyond the estate walls.
He gazed at the fluttering heartbeat of nightfall. Each flicker orchestrated a melodious dance across the shadowy backdrop, now muted and yielding. They punctured holes into the night sky, through the moisture laden air.
Giyuu silently watched on and yielded, too, to the flickering ensemble.
“The fireflies.. they’re like lanterns. Living lanterns!” Eight years old Giyuu squatted down to admire a firefly that landed on a faded leaf, pearly doe eyes glistening with awe.
“They sure are.” Tsutako smiled fondly at her brother. She bent down, leveled herself to Giyuu, and carefully enclosed her palms around the resting firefly. Light spilled from the minute gaps between her fingers.
“Though unlike a lantern, or fire, which gets hot if you’re too close, a firefly’s light is cold.” She explained and slowly transferred the ember into Giyuu’s small, outstretched hands.
“Meaning you can touch one without burning yourself.”
Giyuu’s eyes impossibly widened. He peaked through the roof of his glowing hands.
“Wow.. So like cold light?”
Tsutako giggled and nodded.
“Cold light, huh? I like that. It’s simply beautiful no matter what form it’s in.” She mused, watching the golden flare flutter from Giyuu’s palms to join the hundreds that surrounded them.
Giyuu blinked at his sister, dazzled by the spectacle. “Oh. I think fireflies are more beautiful though.”
Soft laughter. Tsutako nodded earnestly. “You’re right, Giyuu. There’s nothing more beautiful than fireflies on a summer night.”
On the engawa, a faint glow emanated from Giyuu’s periphery. He looked down to find that a firefly had landed in his sencha cup. Instinctively, he tipped the cup onto his palm. He watched the light grow weaker and more subdued as the fly tumbled out, the remnants of the tea trickling down his hand.
Unsure of what to do, he cupped his hand over the other, shielding the fading light—from what? He stayed there for a while, unmoving, until he felt a taut stickiness from the tea.
With a sigh, he removed his hand. Almost immediately, the firefly shuddered as if awoken by the gust of warmth. Its wings fluttered, then fluttered again, and the bulb flashed to life, leaving a blazing trail as it flew away.
Giyuu followed the meandering streak. Dusk rooted its claws into the soil, yet the stars in Giyuu’s garden persisted, undeterred. The darker it got, the brighter they burned, twinkling in a cipher only Giyuu understood.
He watched as the night sky swirled and blurred, eternally lit by the only fire that could be touched.
