Summary: In which, Aoko officially begins learning about the forensics side of a case.

Notes: It's been a while. I apologise so much for taking over a year to continue. But arc 2 is plotted out fully, so it won't take me as long this time! Please enjoy the beginning to arc 2 - C through 11.

After seeing a corpse for the first time, Aoko quickly decides that there's only two options she can move between.

The first: She moves forward and pretends it doesn't bother her at all. She tries to forget the pale skin, the waxy feel to it. The way Takamaki's hand had been cold, the way the top of her hand had seemed white, but the bottom of her hand bruised, because that was where the blood had pooled around her.

Which is a difficult task itself. Aoko doesn't know if it's possible, but repression is a natural instinct to traumatising situations and it's… maybe it's not a good option, but it is an option.

The second option: She lets herself mourn a woman she doesn't know. She lets herself become vulnerable for enough time to move past the fact that this has happened.

There's not really a decision to be made, really.

Aoko keeps herself in one piece until she's back in her new apartment, the area she shares with two girls she's barely spoken a word too. She bids Shinichi goodbye when he says he's going to hang out with everyone else, and nods quietly when he says that he's there to talk, should she want to.

Then, Aoko heads upstairs.

Makes herself a cup of sencha tea, and cries.

She doesn't wipe away her tears, lets them fall. It's admirable, she thinks, her ability to just feel, to let herself and she's not ashamed of it. She thinks of Takamaki's body, thinks of the way she'd been killed and lets herself mourn that.

Time cut short and for little reason at all. There'd been no reason behind it, except a grudge and she's angry at that, rightly so, but there's nothing that can change what has happened.

Aoko is glad, too, to have been able to solve the murder with Shinichi, even if she'd only been offering the puzzle pieces.

"Poor Takamaki-san," Aoko mumbles under her breath when she's got her tears under control. She grabs her phone, grabs a blanket, and sits staring at the small television at the edge of the room. It's halfway through a soap opera but Aoko's barely been paying attention to it.

She prefers anime shows more than soaps anyway.

Unlocking her phone, she presses one on speed dial, and listens to the sound of her father's voice when she's sent to voice mail. It's enough to calm her, as he tells her to leave a message after the tone, and it helps her feel a little calmer.

"Hey, it's Aoko," she starts, because she knows he'll only worry more if he doesn't have a voice mail after receiving a phone call from her. "Just wanted to hear your voice a bit. I looked at one of those old case files today and the pictures… shocked me, I suppose."

She hasn't picked back up the illeism. Maybe it's… it… it seems a little bit silly after all she's seen. Aoko feels like maybe she needs to be more serious.

"I'm not saying I want to give up," Aoko continues, and she finds that she means it. She doesn't exactly feel fired up, like it's her calling to solve cases and fight the crimes that have been left for them to solve. "I think it just shocked me how someone could be that cruel."

She's going to keep going. Not because she's interested in the crimes, or in making sure that the criminal sees justice.

But because she wants to remember Takamaki, and other people like her.

Because she thinks maybe the detectives want to look into the murderer more than into the victim, and she doesn't want to overlook that.

"Anyway," she continues, nodding her head in silent confirmation of her thoughts, "I'll call back another night and we'll pick a night to catch up. Please don't overwork yourself. Love you."

She doesn't get the chance to say goodbye. There's only so long she can speak on answerphone before the dial tone echoes a second time, indicating that she's run out of time.

Aoko closes her phone and takes a moment to simply breathe.

Then, she picks herself up, washes her face and readies herself to go down to the group – because she has homework and it's English, and if she's going to live in the same complex as Hakuba then, he's going to be a welcome resource in translating her work.

"I'm not saying that you're wrong," Hakuba says, in that way that says that Aoko is, in fact, wrong but that he doesn't want to be rude, "but that phrase is more colloquial than I think our teacher is expecting."

Okay, so maybe Aoko isn't the best at English. She's not perfect.

Still, she does think that this phrase could work, and she's already written it on her answer sheet. Her answer sheet which is so neat, for what feels like the first time in her life. She doesn't want to start crossing things out.

"I'm sure it works," Aoko says, biting into her lip. She waves her pen, pointing it towards him. "The phrasing is completely fine."

Hakuba's face scrunches up in a way that shows that he very much so disagrees. Aoko supposes that maybe she should cross the answer out and rewrite it but…

She sighs. Fine.

As she's scrawling out the new answer, Hakuba leans closer and says, "are you alright, Aoko-san?"

Aoko startles at the question. She's not expecting it, maybe because she thought that she was alright now, was calmer and more focused than her previous misery before she'd let herself cry.

"I–" Aoko pauses, tries to think things over. There's no reason to lie, she knows that, but she also doesn't want to overshare. "Well, I've been better. But, I'm okay, yeah."

Hakuba keeps his gaze fixed on her, as if waiting for a 'but', for some sort of explanation. Maybe that detective stuff works on suspects and other people, but Aoko isn't about to give in to the silent interrogation.

"Why?" She says instead, meeting his own silent questioning, with her own verbal one.

The good thing about Hakuba is that he's not the type to obfuscate, to leave her without an answer. If Aoko asks him an answer, he will answer it, whether she likes his answer or not. He's always been like that.

"Well," he starts, frowning, "you dropped your illeism and you're speaking more formally, so I…"

Aoko pauses. The changing of her language to exclude third person addressing of herself hadn't even crossed her mind as being a cause for concern. Of course, Hakuba who sits with her every day in class, and has for the past year, would pick up on the change within seconds.

She shrugs her shoulders, and says, "I think I need to be a little more serious with how I address people, right? If I'm doing this."

Cutesy speech, talking in the third person isn't exactly appropriate, Aoko thinks. And it's really not that difficult not to fall into that way of speaking – if anything, it had been harder to remember to speak in the third person.

Hakuba's expression shifts. It's not pity, no, and it's not exactly sadness but there is something there. As if he's watching someone lose something.

"You don't need to change because of this," Hakuba says. "It's easy to think that you should, but you can find a way to figure things out while remaining who you are."

"I've been thinking about stopping the illeism for a while now," Aoko lies, because it's easier than explaining everything she's decided today. "this has just sped up the process, that's all."

He doesn't look like he believes her.

But Hakuba isn't the type to call her out on something, not if it's not crime related, so he says nothing. Aoko moves onto the next question of her homework, shifts the conversation and offers a smile that doesn't feel exactly comfortable on her face.

She's fine.

Or maybe, she's not fine, but she knows that's alright. And she's working on it. She wonders how many of the other people in this building have come to the same conclusion.

On Thursday, Aoko goes straight from school to the station. Shinichi meets her there, and she follows behind him as he promises to lead her somewhere that might be more interesting that a crime scene.

He follows through on the promise.

"There's not much you can do looking at case files," Shinichi explains as he leads her down a corridor, leading her down some stairs to the basement levels. She shivers as the cold meets her, "so I talked Megure into setting something up, so you can learn more about forensics."

Well, alright then. Aoko supposes that makes sense. She's not here to interpret the meanings of various clues, just to explain what the clue actually is.

"So, I'm what, going to a forensics lab?"

"Exactly," Shinichi says, as they come to a stop in front of what can only be an office. His knuckles rap against the door, several short bursts and then, he leans back, waits.

Aoko raises an eyebrow, and since she can't exactly do anything but wait, decides that maybe she should raise a question she's been thinking about for the past two days.

"That murder," she says, and he turns to look at her. His lips tighten, as if he's uncertain whether her question will be a difficult one to respond to. "You were testing me with it."

From the way he hesitates, Aoko knows that she's right.

"That's kind of… messed up," Aoko continues, watching him. She shakes her head, not sure whether she's disappointed or not. "That you would use someone's death to see whether I would handle being in this… programme."

Brows threaded together, Shinichi leans forward. He takes a second, decided on what he wants to say and then: "It wasn't the only reason, I really did need your forensics skills. But… I shouldn't have. I'm sorry. It was inappropriate. Even if you handled it well."

Aoko crosses her arms. Since she's grown up best friends with quite possibly, the most infuriating boy alive, she knows that she won't remain bothered for long. In fact, now that she's received an apology, she's already partially forgiven him.

"It's okay," Aoko says. "Even if I'm pretty sure I was told we were only supposed to look into cold cases?"

"There are… exceptions," Shinichi says, "sometimes."

Aoko is about to ask what those exceptions are – it'd be nice to know, really – but then the door opens, and she's robbed of any questions she might be able to ask him.

The woman who opens the door is tall, although that's mostly through the use of high heels, not through natural means. She stands about two inches taller than Shinichi, and she stares down between the two of them. Stern.

"Tadamori-san?" Shinichi says, sounding as if he's never been intimidated in his life. Not even by this woman with wire-rimmed glasses falling down the rim of her nose. "Inspector Megure said you two spoke on the phone?"

Her gaze moves between the two of them, and then, she says, "you must be Kudo-kun. And this is Nakamori-chan?"

Aoko offers a small nod. She would say hello, but she's afraid she'd only squeak the words out, unable to form coherent words. The woman is intimidating… no… Aoko is intimidated by her.

"Right," Tadamori says, "I'll be stealing your forensic girl then, Kudo-kun. You can run along."

Shinichi turns back to Aoko and looks almost like he's about to say something else, but the forensic scientist shoos him away. He turns the corridor, and as soon as he's gone, Tadamori offers a wry smile, beckoning Aoko inside.

The door closes, Aoko feels like she's doomed to be terrified forever.

She takes a moment to think this over, how she's gotten to this point. Somehow, the detectives are less terrifying than the forensics team and she's – she's –

"Oh, what're you looking so terrified for?" Tadamori says, leaning forwards and letting out a small laugh. She moves forward so quickly that Aoko can see the rustling of the white lab coat she's wearing flutter around her. She grabs hold of Aoko's wrist, pulling her further into the room.

There's three ways Aoko can go about this. Lie and say she's not terrified at all. Lie and say she's terrified of forensics because she doesn't really know that much. Or tell the truth and say that this woman is kind of… terrifying.

"Well," Aoko says, and swallows, "I find you intimidating."

It's probably the best response, because Aoko receives a loud laugh, as if she's caught the woman off guard.

"Oh no," Tadamori says, and offers a wink. "I'm not intimidating at all. Not to the people who work in the lab – only to those detectives outside. You're not a detective, are you, Nakamori-chan?"

"I'm not."

She receives a smile in response. Tadamori looks significantly less terrifying when she's smiling, and Aoko feels her shoulders relax at the expression. It's calming.

"Well then, grab one of those lab coats on the hook and we'll start with a tour of the lab." She pauses, as if considering the possibility that Aoko doesn't actually know what's going on. "Did your detective explain this situation we've set up for you?"

Aoko shakes her head.

"Detectives," Tadamori tuts, "they're so narrow-minded sometimes. I should have expected this. Where do I start… oh! My name, of course – Tadamori Mizuki. I'm one of the forensic scientists here. We're not normally this… empty but a lot of us are out collecting the evidence. I'm one of the lurkers."

Lurking, as in remaining at the station, Aoko assumes. It makes sense, she'll be around to analyse any of the substances that are brought to her, will ensure there's always someone in the lab whenever the detectives come knocking.

"Nice to meet you," Aoko says, quiet. "Please take care of me."

"I'll do my best," Tadamori says, and then, waves towards the lab coats again, urging Aoko to take one. Aoko does, albeit with a soft laugh in her throat. There's one that has pink accents – it's adorable, and Aoko loves it – and she grabs it, holding it up as if to ask permission.

Tadamori nods her head, and Aoko puts her hands through the sleeves, pulling the coat on.

"Let's get started," Tadamori says. "We're going to look at everything in the lab, and then, we're gonna sit down and talk about what parts I can teach you."

Shortly after her tour is finished, Aoko is sat down in the main room of the lab. About six tables have been pushed together to create a u-shaped space for all of the forensic scientists to input data and go over simple evidence, and Aoko pulls up a chair.

Tadamori – although she insists on being called Mizuki – sits Aoko down and tells her she's going to prepare something really quickly for a small test.

"Just going over the basics," Mizuki says, as she heads towards one of the cabinets, pulling out a plastic bag. Inside, there's a boot, something that she brings over and places on the table between the two of them.

"I…" Aoko blinks, "It's a boot?"

"A gold star to you," the woman says, grabbing a pair of gloves and pulling them over her hands. She nudges the box of gloves to Aoko too, waits until Aoko's wearing her own pair before opening the evidence bag. "It's not just a boot, it's evidence."

"Right," Aoko says. "But I'm not wrong by saying it's a boot."

Mizuki raises an eyebrow as if to say, now you're just being smarmy, which, to be fair, she kind of is. Aoko concedes and waits for the scientist to explain what they're doing, staring at a boot.

"This is a piece of evidence we've recently gone over. I'll take it down to evidence before I leave tonight. Until then, we've got this baby to play around with. So, we'll see what you can find on it."

Aoko raises an eyebrow. She says, "using… current evidence? Is that a good idea?"

"How else will you learn?"

Well, there's very little that Aoko can do to argue. She leans forward, looks at the material of the boot and tries to decide which material it's made from. Since she's wearing gloves, she doesn't hesitate in picking it up, pressing against the toe. It's harder than rubber, and Aoko nods her head.

"It's leather," she says, which means that the boot is more expensive. They're newer too, and she notes that down, before lifting the boot up and looking at the sole. The type of shoe doesn't mean anything, really – it's what remains on it that matters.

And on the sole, between groves that offer more traction, there is where the evidence lies. Specks of mud, dust, all sorts. Aoko looks up at Mizuki and says, "a pH test on the soil?"

Mizuki offers a smile. She says, "We did one. The soil was acidic."

Aoko considers this. Then, squinting at the bottom of the boot, she tries to figure out the colour of the dirt. It's hard to see against the black of the boot. There's not enough present for her to confirm a colour.

"Under the microscope?" Aoko says, and Mizuki confirms that they'd done this too. The colour had been faintly red. It's not the colour of dirt in Tokyo, suggesting the boots owner is from somewhere else. "Not from Tokyo then? Is it our job to figure out where, or does that go to the detectives?"

"Us," Mizuki answers. "Have you got any ideas?"

"Somewhere south to us," Aoko decides. "I think I've heard that red soils are found in warmer climates, so maybe one of the southern islands?"

A smile. And a nod, "We linked the deficiency of nitrogen and humus in the soil to that found in the Ryukyu islands. Sure enough, the pool of suspects will be centred around those who travel frequently or have visited from the islands."

That's so far away, Aoko thinks to herself. If the criminal heads off to any of those islands, then the police won't be able to catch them. She doesn't like that, finds herself cringing at the thought.

"Anything else?" Mizuki asks, and Aoko blinks looking at the boot, trying to figure out what else can be found from the object. They can try to match boot prints found at any scenes with this one, but that observation only receives a raised eyebrow and a question of 'what if there aren't footprints?'

Aoko doesn't know what else to consider. There's nothing else that shouts out to her. She says as such.

The scientist across from her only looks mildly disappointed. She takes the boot from Aoko and points to the inside.

"There's all kinds of DNA inside of here," Mizuki says, and Aoko's lips widen into a 'o', because of course, it's obvious, she'd just not been considering it. "There could pet hairs, dust, skin cells. All sorts."

She turns the boot over, points at the grips, at the areas where the shoe is more worn.

"And if you look here, you can see which areas of the sole are more used. It helps create an understanding for how the owner walks."

Aoko nods. Looking at it now, the front of the boot is scuffed, worn down more than the rest of the shoe. She bites her lip, "What does it mean?"

"Try walking yourself that way," Mizuki says, and Aoko pushes away from the desk, focuses on walking, scuffing the front of her shoes. It includes barely lifting her feet up, as if they're extremely heavy.

"Oh," Aoko suggests after a moment, "exhaustion? Or a limp?"

A nod. "The detectives are out looking for someone with ties to the Ryukyu Islands who walks with a limp."

And all that from a single boot.

It's amazing, Aoko thinks, how a forensic scientist can take things that seem menial and analyse them. It's… amazing. Admirable. Aoko can admit that this lab, doing things here is more interesting than having it in front of her at a murder site.

"There's a lot you'll get to learn," Mizuki says, and she tilts her head, waits for Aoko to sit back down. "And we'll do it all here, in the lab. Tests, cold cases, as much as I can teach possible. But I don't want you out in the field."

Aoko, who's both steeled to remember people's memories, but also doesn't want to see another dead body, cannot escape her relief. She breathes it out, glad, ready to say thank you, when Mizuki raises an eyebrow.

"You're not disappointed?"

"I think," Aoko starts, trying to find the correct words, the ways to say she doesn't want to have to repeat Takamaki's crime scene without admitting as such, "that a stable foundation is always more important to secure first. Before the crime scenes."

She waits – waits for Mizuki to claim that she's an imposter, that she's not in this entire programme for a 'suitable' reason. Which seems odd, because which sane person would want to be out analysing dead bodies? Why wouldn't she have worries about it..?

"Well," Mizuki says instead, her shoulders relaxing as she leans back. "I'm glad you agree with me – Inspector Megure told me over the phone that his detectives thus far have always been stubborn, and that I shouldn't be surprised if you followed suit."

For the record, Aoko would let it be known that she's not a detective. She says as much and receives a smile in response.

"A little more reasonable, huh?" Mizuki says, shaking her head. Her lips tug up. "That's good."

Aoko offers a small nod.

"Well, Nakamori-chan," the woman continues, "I'll start sorting a box of old cases you could look over evidence from, a little cold case box, if you will. Until then, I think we're done for the day."

Glancing at the time shows that after a tour and Mizuki's short quiz, it's already reaching seven p.m. And Aoko has homework to get through. Still, she can't help but be a little disappointed.

Mizuki re-bags the boot, seals the evidence bag and stretches. Her shoulders crick, a wince blooming across her face.

"I'm gonna bring this back down to evidence," she says. A short pause and then, she adds, "Want to tag along, see all the potential evidence?"

Aoko kind of wants to see all the crazy things that can make their way to the evidence lockers. And… And maybe she wants to see the physical evidence that Kaito is KID, one day. Knowing where to go would be a good beginning.

"Sure." Aoko grins. "Let's go."

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