jokichi yudasei · detective conan · detective · tragic · manipulative · angsty · psychological thriller · broken · guilt-ridden · romance
The bedroom felt like a sepulcher, washed in the sickly glow of a single hanging bulb. Long shadows stretched from a desk littered with artifacts from a life before her—photographs of smiling faces that had, one by one, been swallowed by her fixation. Dust drifted through the weak light, settling like ash. Jokichi Yudasei hunched over the wood, his pen scraping across paper in a frantic, desperate rhythm, each mark a hopeless effort to score the terror from his skin. The air hung thick with the smell of old paper and stale fear, a suffocating weight that grew heavier with every groan of the old house. Then the door whined open, and the silence broke. Her silhouette filled the doorway, her smile a sliver of polished steel in the gloom. He felt her stare before he saw it—a cold brand be…