"You're the killer, aren't you?"

Ranpo has no idea how many days have passed. Actually, he has a theory but he can't be certain. He's been in this room for God knows how many days and he is bored out of his mind. The visitors he gets aren't regular and the meals that Ayame provides him are even more irregular. He feels starved. But maybe that is part of her plan, he doesn't know.

Ranpo is black and blue from all the fun times Tachi and Nezumi came to visit him. Ayame doesn't seem to care that they're taking out their frustration on Ranpo, and he can't blame her. She is the Boss of the organization keeping him here. He hasn't seen that other girl – Himari if Ranpo remembers right – at all since he's been here. He doesn't care about her. He just wants to know why Ayame wants him here and what the point is.

If there's no point then why is he here? And why keep him hostage for a long time if she's not going to pull information from him or use his Ultra Deduction? Ranpo doesn't want to be here if he can't do anything, and yet he cannot escape either. He's not powerful like Fukuzawa or Atsushi. He doesn't have any super strength. He's just a human in that regard.

Ranpo sighs heavily and looks at the ceiling, counting the cracks once again. There are a hundred and four cracks in the ceiling, seventy-two in the floor, and eighty-nine in the walls. He's counted them so many times he's bored of it. They haven't even provided him with any snacks or other forms of entertainment. He doesn't even have a TV for crying out loud!

Another heavy sigh escapes his lips and then he inhales deeply. For a moment, nothing moves. He doesn't breathe and keeps count in his head. He can hold it for about two minutes. After another moment, Ranpo's eyes widen.

He can't breathe.

He gasps and faults from his chair, slamming his hand into the table in front of him and gagging. Air still doesn't come and he desperately looks toward the door. He knows Tachi is behind it, controlling his lungs for his sick sense of pleasure. Ranpo feels himself becoming lightheaded and he staggers over to the door, slamming into it and startling Tachi enough that he restores his breathing.

Ranpo gasps, spit falling from his mouth as he takes in gulps of air. The door flies open and rams him in the head. He careens back and smacks to the floor harshly. Tachi is standing in the doorway, a murderous look on his face. He reaches down and takes Ranpo's hair into an iron grip, dragging him over to the other side of the room. Ranpo struggles, crying out in pain as Tachi slams him into the wall harshly.

The back of his neck feels wet and Ranpo knows he has a headwound. This isn't good. He opens his eyes and glares at Tachi, daring him to try anything else. He knows Tachi can't kill him, Ayame needs him alive, but he can still be hurt pretty badly.

"You're fucking useless," Tachi snarls, backhanding him across the face.

Ranpo falls to the side, coughing harshly. He doesn't reply. He knows his smart mouth will get him in trouble if he tries. He's learned that the hard way. Tachi seems pleased with his silence and crouches in front of him, gripping his hair once again and lifting his face so he looks the goon in the eyes.

"You're only alive because Ayame needs you for something. Nobody knows what it is and frankly, I don't give two shits," Tachi explains. "I'm just torturing you 'cause it amuses me."

He's released and falls back to the wall, exhausted. Tachi stands and readies himself for another punch. Ranpo can feel his limbs shut down. Tachi doesn't want him to struggle, he only wants him to suffer. Ranpo's hate for him is growing by the second.

"Tachi," a gentle voice interrupts right before Ranpo is struck in the face by a tight fist.

Ranpo sees the moment Tachi freezes solid. He doesn't move a single finger as Ayame enters the room with a slow click of her heels. Ranpo watches her, his limbs coming back online after a moment. Ayame steps right behind Tachi and leans over his shoulder, eyeing Ranpo in his disheveled state.

"I thought I told you to stop what you were doing," she quietly says.

Ranpo hadn't thought of Ayame as scary, but the threat in her voice is very real and it sends shivers down his spine. Goosebumps erupt over his skin and he presses himself into the wall. Ayame walks around Tachi, who still stands in the position she found him in. Ranpo wonders if she's doing it, but he can't be certain.

"I-I," Tachi begins softly, his face one of terror. "I'm sorry," he whispers eventually.

Ranpo doesn't know what to expect, but it certainly isn't this. Ayame's face transforms almost in an instant. One moment, she's gently looking down on Ranpo, the next she's cruelly smiling at Tachi, who makes a squeaking noise in response. Not a second later, blood spurts from a slash wound on Tachi's neck, going straight across his throat.

The blood splatters onto Ranpo's face and Tachi gurgles, falling forward. He lands just in front of Ranpo, blood pooling from the wound. Ranpo sits frozen, terrified, and incredibly confused. Tachi is dead. And Ranpo never saw the attack coming. He lifts his face slowly to look at Ayame, who looks unbothered. She wipes her hand with a handkerchief and Ranpo realizes she used her long nails as the weapon.

He gulps quietly.

Ayame's eyes snap toward him and Ranpo wishes he could disappear into the wall. He can't. She sees him. Ayame crouches in front of him and strokes his fringe from his face, the hair sticking to his cheeks due to the blood. Her fingers are ice.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that," Ayame says so quietly that Ranpo almost doesn't hear her.

Normally, he wouldn't be appalled by bloodshed, but for some reason, she terrifies him. Ranpo has no idea why. He can't deduce the cause. He's clueless for the first time in his life. He stops breathing for a moment and Ayame tisks, stroking his cheek quietly.

"Come now, Ranpo," she begins. "I'm sure the world's greatest detective has seen his fair share of blood."

He doesn't answer her. Ayame watches him quietly. Then she stands and brushes her long hair out of her face. She turns away to the door, where she stops to look back at him.

"Come with me, I'll have your room cleaned while we chat," she orders.

Ranpo only moves because he knows he'll die if he doesn't. He stumbles to his feet and evades Tachi's dead body, stepping around him and wincing at the sound of blood under his shoes. Then he moves to the door, body cold and eyes wide.

He doesn't know why he's afraid. Ayame doesn't look scary, she doesn't exude any murderous aura like some people Ranpo met did. He's confused and he wants to ask her who she is, and what she wants from him, but he's too horrified to speak, let alone think of the right way to ask his questions. When he is out the door, Ayame closes it and pulls a phone from her jeans pocket.

"Himari, please clean Ranpo's room," Ayame says into the phone.

While she talks, she grabs Ranpo's wrist with her cold, long-nailed fingers and guides him through the tunnels. Ranpo doesn't remember which tunnel he came from when he first got here. He wishes he did.

"Yes," Ayame says. "I need another Tachi model, this one was flawed."

Ranpo has no idea what that means but he keeps his mouth shut. He's been gathering information from Tachi and Nezumi, but there's not enough to conclude anything at this point. He doesn't have his glasses (he doesn't need them but refuses to believe that) and there are no substitutes in the vicinity.

Ayame hangs up the phone and glances at him, her dark eyes full of thoughts and emotions. Ranpo looks away. His nose is bleeding, he can feel the blood drip onto his lip. His neck feels sticky and his lungs burn. Yosano isn't with him, so he'll have to heal all by himself. Ayame stops so suddenly that Ranpo almost bumps into her. She turns to face him and uses her handkerchief to wipe the blood from his lip, dabbing his nose gently. Ranpo stares at her, conflicted.

"I'll see to it that you receive medical treatment later," Ayame says. "Now it is time for our chat."

She opens a new door and guides Ranpo in, this time following him. She locks the door behind her and sits on a small couch. There's a coffee table and another couch. A TV hangs on the wall opposite the couches and there's another door. Ranpo doesn't know where it leads. He takes a seat on the other couch and glances at Ayame carefully.

She plucks a cigarette holder from the coffee table and lights it, taking a long drag. She offers it to him but Ranpo doesn't smoke, so he shakes his head. He hopes she doesn't see it as something to kill him for.

"How are you finding your stay?" Ayame asks after a while of silence.

Ranpo wants to answer honestly. He hates it. The room is small, he doesn't have any entertainment, not even books! He's skinny to the bone and mildly wounded. He knows he's a hostage but come on, this is ridiculous. He struggles for a moment, unsure if he can tell her or if she'll hurt him for it.

Ranpo hates pain.

"You can tell me the truth," Ayame says. "I won't fault you for hating your treatment."

"You speak as if you know what goes on in my head," Ranpo says quietly.

Ayame smiles, "Perhaps I do, my dear Ranpo. But you are a hostage and I can treat you however I like. I don't usually like torturing my guests but this time it is necessary for the purpose of your stay."

Ranpo frowns. So there is a purpose, he just doesn't know what it is. He sighs heavily and closes his eyes, rubbing his temples for a moment. He can't deduce his way out of this and he has no clue if the Agency has any leads on his whereabouts. He'd better play along for now.

"I hope starving me isn't part of that plan," he states.

Ayame's whole body goes still for a good few seconds and her eyes slowly widen. A dark look comes over her face. Then she schools her features and Ranpo knows it was indeed not part of the plan. Nezumi and Tachi were doing more than she had ordered of them. They had gone against her wishes, Ranpo could tell.

"Please accept my apologies," Ayame comments. "I shall oversee your meals from now on."

"Can't say I'm happier about it, but fine," Ranpo replies. "At least I won't die of hunger before I die of boredom," he adds grumpily.

Ayame sighs, "Don't be absurd. One cannot die from boredom. You know that, Ranpo."

He does know that, but that doesn't mean he cares. Ayame seems to see it and smiles a little, cocking her head to the side. She sucks her cigarette down and places the holder on the table. Then she stands and walks over to him, placing a hand on the back of the couch just above his shoulder. Her knee parts his legs and she leans in dangerously close. Ranpo pushes himself back into the couch cushions, but he can't escape her.

She leans past his head and her hot breath hits his ear. He shudders violently, eyes going wide and body freezing. He doesn't move and neither does she. They stay like that for a moment, but then he can feel her lips curling against his ear.

"You're quite the specimen. I've admired you for a long time," Ayame says. "I ask a favor of you, Ranpo Edogawa."

"W-What favor?"

He can't believe he just stuttered. Ranpo is mortified and looks away, only letting his eyes shift. He doesn't dare move a muscle. Ayame's other hand slowly climbs up his thigh, long nails scratching through the fabric of his torn pants. Ranpo squeezes his eyes shut and ceases breathing.

"I need you to find out who I am," Ayame says, her hand trailing up to his hip.

She grips him there and holds steady, turning her face to the side of his head so she can inhale the scent of his hair. He showered yesterday, hoping to get the blood of the day before out of his hair. Her lips curl further, he can feel it on his scalp. She leans back a little bit and looks him in the eyes.

"You want me to discover your past?" Ranpo questions.

Ayame nods her head quietly. She looks troubled for some reason, Ranpo can't tell why. The hand on his hip releases him and he breathes, relief flooding him. Seconds later he tenses again, his whole body going stiff as her other hand lands on his neck, her sharp nails trailing circles through the blood on his skin. It feels too intimate and Ranpo hates it. He's not used to doing things like this, at all. Ayame doesn't seem to see his distress and continues her soft scratching. Her nails are a weapon, Ranpo knows. He has to be careful around her and in this position, she could kill him within seconds. He has to say something, anything, to keep their conversation going.

"Why should I do what you ask of me?" he asks her, a little bit daring.

Ayame doesn't move from her spot, practically in his lap. Her bottom lip grazes the top of his ear and he can feel his face flushing red. Ranpo leans away a little, but a sudden tight grip on his neck has him stopping short. Her nails dig into his neck just a little, and he can feel a bead of blood running into his shirt. He swallows heavily.

"I can cause you all sorts of pain, Ranpo," Ayame whispers against his ear. "Don't underestimate me. You're only alive because I need you. Once you serve your purpose, I will return you to the Agency, but I can't promise that you'll be in one piece."

"You threaten my life?" he asks, glancing at her.

He's growing angry. Ayame expects him to do whatever she asks of him without a struggle. She's mad. He won't do what she wants from him even if she hurts him. He can handle the pain if it means getting out of here without giving his enemies an edge. It's risky, but he'd do it if it meant protecting the Agency.

"I never said I would hurt you physically," Ayame begins, an edge to her voice Ranpo does not like, at all. "I have my ways. I can hurt you mentally and return you to the Agency a shell of your former self. Don't think I won't do it."

She presses her nails deeper into his skin and Ranpo hisses. He's in some deep trouble…

"They'll kill you," he whispers.

"Oh," Ayame chuckles. "I'm counting on it."

Ranpo's eyes widen and her nails pierce his skin, making him cry out and jolt forward. Ayame swiftly pulls away from him and Ranpo sees stars, his heartbeat skyrocketing. He looks at Ayame with a betrayed look and she only grins. He falls sideways onto the couch, body spasming without his input.

"Y-You-" he begins, but he can't finish the sentence.

Blood pours from his mouth and into the back of his throat. He gags, tasting the red liquid on his tongue. It's bitter and tangy, not at all like the sweets that Ranpo loves. He feels like he's drowning. Ayame stands from her spot by his side and wipes her nails again. Ranpo wonders what she did, but his mind is muddled and he can't think clearly.

Blood pours over his skin and from his eyes, the feeling horrible and disgusting. Ranpo wants to vomit, but he can't move and he's drowning in his own blood. He's going to die. He's going to die. He's going to die. He's going to die. He's going to die. He's going to die. He's going to die. He's going to die. He's going to die. He's going to-

Ranpo gasps. His body flies upright and he finds himself on the futon in his room. Tachi's body is gone and Ranpo quickly feels for the wound on his neck, but there's nothing there. His eyes slide to the door and he goes pale as a sheet.

It was a game. Ayame played a mind game with him. He lost.

Ranpo takes a deep breath and flops back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. He can smell disinfectant and alcohol. Tachi died, then. But was the talk he and Ayame had real? What was fake? Ranpo couldn't tell for sure and he had no idea if he was awake or sleeping. What if this was still a part of the illusion and she was just playing games with him all the time?

Perhaps more days have passed than he had thought. Ranpo shakes his head. He doesn't want to think about it, can't. If he goes down that rabbit hole he won't come back out. He has to have faith in his friends and keep his hopes up. If he doesn't, what is he doing?

He shudders and turns over in the bed, closing his eyes tight and fisting the blanket. He wants to disappear and sleep for a thousand years. His body aches from all the beatings he's taken and his brain hurts. His stomach is empty and growling and he doesn't trust Ayame to manage his food. Perhaps she will poison it.

He lies there, still as a statue, thinking over everything that has happened since he got here. He's not sure when he was awake, asleep, or in an illusion, and the thought terrifies him to the bone. Ayame wanted him to discover who she was, what she was before. He doesn't know, how can he? He needs more knowledge.

She could also easily play him for a fool. Perhaps she didn't want him to figure anything out. Maybe she had a grudge against him, against the Agency, and she was carrying it out by torturing him. Ranpo didn't know, his head hurt too much to think clearly.

How many days had it been?

By his count it had been thirty, but who knew? Who knew… He certainly didn't.