The night was her ally. Chianti slipped through the shadows with deadly precision, her footsteps inaudible, almost as if she didn't exist. The city below, illuminated by the dim light of the streetlamps, looked distant and indifferent to the secrets that were woven within. From the top of a skyscraper, she watched every movement on the street, every breath of the city. But it wasn't the city that captured her attention that night. It was the boy. Conan Edogawa.
The little detective walked with that characteristic calm, his tiny figure almost lost among the adults. His messy hair and glasses that sparkled under the moonlight made him seem even more vulnerable. But Chianti knew that nothing about him was what it seemed. There was something else, something that kept her alert. Something that overwhelmed simple common sense.
With a firm hand, Chianti adjusted the rifle in her arms, aiming at the boy. Her breathing was slow and controlled, but inside her mind, a storm was raging. Why? Why him, of all people? What the hell was he feeling?
"Since when do you care about a child?" Korn asked, the companion who stood by her side, observing the scene with a disdainful expression. He knew Chianti well enough to see that something was not right. There was something in her eyes, a spark of doubt that he had never seen before.
Chianti did not respond immediately. Her eyes remained fixed on Conan, who was now chatting animatedly with a friend. Children, so innocent, so carefree, so… human. She had learned to be ruthless, to never doubt. But this child… this child was making her question everything she had ever been.
"He's just a child," she thought, but something inside her would not accept it. Her finger, so accustomed to pulling the trigger, trembled slightly. The mission was clear: eliminate him if necessary. However, that order she had always followed seemed to waver now.
"Have you gone soft?" Korn was impatient. There was something in his voice that was both mockery and genuine concern. He knew Chianti was never swayed by weakness, but he could see how indecision was beginning to cloud his judgment.
Chianti didn't look at him. His lips curved into a tense line, his gaze still fixed on Conan. The boy raised his head in that instant, as if he had felt the weight of his gaze. It was only for a second, but it was enough. Did he know? Could it be that this little boy, who had never ceased to dazzle his enemies with his cunning, was aware of the threat Chianti represented? Their eyes met for a brief instant, and something indescribable ran down his spine. "It can't be," he thought, closing his eyes for a moment to regroup his thoughts.
Conan, however, didn't seem to show fear. He didn't seem aware of the proximity of death. To him, danger was as natural as breathing. But Chianti knew there was something else. Something that baffled even his sharp mind.
"Will you?" Korn insisted, crossing his arms with a crooked smile. He knew something was up, something Chianti didn't want to admit even to herself. The cold killer he knew wasn't the same as before. She wasn't just watching a target; something else was brewing inside her, and Korn could feel it.
Chianti gritted her teeth, her patience beginning to wear thin. "It's not like that…" she said, almost to herself. "This child is not what he seems."
Her gaze drifted to the reflection of the city lights in the windows of the building in front of her. Conan's figure blurred in her vision for an instant, replaced by an image from her past. Him. That man, that traitor who had marked her forever. And then, the mission. Death. Everything she had left behind.
But now… Conan. The boy, so oblivious to everything, so full of life. What was wrong with her?
"You think this boy is different?" Korn couldn't help but laugh. "He's just another piece. Vengeance has no room for doubt, Chianti. You know you must follow the order."
Chianti tightened her fingers around the rifle, the hardness of her demeanor returning as the poison of doubt faded, but only partially. She was no fool. She knew what Korn was suggesting, what he was demanding of her. Yet he didn't understand. He didn't comprehend what was going on inside her. Because this boy, this kid, was not only defiant in his intellect, but there was something in his gaze, in his unconscious, that was almost… human.
The image of her partner, the lost man, floated back into her mind. Vengeance. Duty. Was that all that was left of her?
Korn watched Chianti with a slight frown of concern. He saw her grit her teeth in suppressed rage, but she wasn't going to give in. Not this time.
Conan, oblivious to the tensions raging around him, began to walk away down the street. "The mission," Chianti thought. "There is nothing but the mission." But Korn's voice, with its disdain and concern, echoed in his mind like an echo impossible to ignore.
"It doesn't matter what you feel, Chianti. Just follow the rules."
Chianti tightened her grip on the rifle one last time, as if trying to seal her fate. Conan's figure faded into the distance. For a moment, she didn't know if what she felt was simply an illusion... or if she was on the verge of something much deeper and more dangerous than simple murder.
"No... I can't do this," she whispered, barely audible, as the boy disappeared into the darkness. The decision, as always, was in her hands.
Chianti stood there, atop the building, staring into the distance where Conan had disappeared into the darkness. The weight of the rifle in her hands no longer gave her the certainty it used to. Somehow, the usual coldness that characterized her had faded, leaving a raw unease she couldn't ignore. Her breathing was slightly labored as she struggled to gather her thoughts.
What the hell is happening to me?
She had never felt that kind of doubt, that kind of… compassion. Was that what she felt? No, it couldn't be. He was a child. A child who needed to be eliminated. Her duty was clear, as clear as the mission she had been given. But deep within her, there was something twisting, something holding her back.
"Chianti." Korn's voice interrupted her thoughts, cold and mocking as always, but now laden with growing concern. "What are you going to do? Are you going to stay here until you lose sight of him completely?"
Chianti didn't look at him. She didn't want to look at him. She knew he wouldn't understand. He never would.
Korn took a step closer to her, almost contemptuously, but his eyes couldn't hide the slight concern that crept in. He'd been with her on missions many times. He'd been her partner in each of her assassinations. But he'd never seen her falter.
"Have you become weak, Chianti?" His tone changed, now more incisive, as if he wanted to somehow force an answer out of her. "Do it! The boy is nothing more than a nuisance! Nothing more than that."
But those words didn't have the expected effect. Instead of giving her back the confidence she'd lost, Korn's words increased the noise in her mind, as if they were empty echoes. Is that what I really feel? A nuisance?
Chianti closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm the internal storm raging in her chest. Her breathing was more erratic now, and cold sweat beaded on her forehead. She didn't want to feel what she felt. She didn't want to.
I can't feel something like that. I can't allow it.
The idea that a child could affect her like that, that his presence would cause her anything more than the coldness of a target... it seemed absurd. A child.
"Why don't you understand?" Her voice came out more broken than she expected, but she said it, anyway. "He's not... he's not just a child. There's something more to him. Something... I can't explain it."
Korn arched an eyebrow, his gaze skeptical and bewildered. "What are you saying, Chianti?" Her tone went from irritation to dangerous curiosity. "He's a child. What does he have to do with what you feel?"
Chianti didn't look at him. She couldn't. She didn't want to face what was going on inside her. The internal dilemma twisted in her mind like a snake, taking over every corner of her being.
Why does this hurt me?
He had killed many without thinking, without a second's hesitation. He had seen lives snuffed out in the blink of an eye, he had pulled the trigger again and again with absolute coldness. It didn't matter who was on the other side, it didn't matter their story. Only the mission mattered.
But with him... everything was different. Why?
"What are you going to do?" Korn's question echoed in her mind, loud, incessant. "Are you going to let him go?"
Anguish grew. What would she do if she let him go? The thought of letting him escape, of failing the mission, of betraying everything she had been… It overwhelmed her. The fear of failure, the fear that something was bigger than herself. The fear that revenge no longer made sense.
With a violent jerk, Chianti lowered the rifle and let it fall against her side. It was as if something in her body was on edge, something pushing her to reject her own nature.
"I don't know what to do…" she whispered, her voice trembling and almost inaudible.
Korn looked at her in silence. For the first time in years, he saw something in her he had never witnessed: doubt. She, who had always been the embodiment of efficiency, of absolute lack of hesitation, was now lost. A feeling completely foreign to her. And worst of all, she couldn't understand it.
What was wrong with her?
Chianti turned around, leaving the street behind her and watching Conan's silhouette fade into the darkness. She wanted to shoot. She wanted to eliminate him, to erase that annoying feeling that was eating away at her from the bottom. But there was something about him, something she couldn't get out of her head.
Conan wasn't afraid. Why not? He knew what was going on around him, he knew that death was stalking him, and yet nothing in him seemed broken. Was it some kind of arrogance? Or was there something deeper in his eyes that Chianti couldn't understand? Something that made her feel... vulnerable.
The kid seemed so invulnerable, so... strong. And that terrified her more than any mission.
"Is that fear you feel?" Korn's voice cut through her thoughts, his tone acidic, but also loaded with something else. Maybe uneasiness. "Afraid that something controls you?"
Chianti finally looked at him, but her eyes did not reflect the confidence and determination Korn expected. What she felt was not fear. It was not compassion. It was something much darker and more disturbing.
"What am I doing?" he thought, on the verge of collapse. "Why do I care?"
Korn watched her silently, the situation about to explode. But Chianti, as always, remained in control, or at least, tried to. She could not allow something so insignificant to break her down. She could not be weaker than this.
However, deep inside, a question began to rumble in her mind, a thought that tormented her: "What would I do if I no longer wanted to shoot?"
The night continued to advance, plunging the city into the deathly stillness of darkness. Chianti stood at the edge of the building, her thoughts troubled, her mind struggling to understand what she felt. A persistent echo ran through her consciousness, an echo that pulled her back to a distant memory, one she had tried to forget for years. A memory she never managed to completely erase, a feeling that still haunted her.
"This isn't new."
The image of Conan disappearing into the shadows was replaced by the sight of another young man. A teenager with a defiant expression, his hair messy, his eyes as cold and calculating as any enemy she had faced. However, it wasn't Shinichi Kudo's gaze that unsettled her. It was the effect his presence had had on her, the same effect she now felt when she watched Conan.
Chianti gritted her teeth, almost unable to bear the pressure she felt in her chest. "No. It can't be the same." But reality was relentless, and his mind could not stop going over that fragment of the past, that moment so clear, so vivid, that had left an indelible mark on him.
(Flashback)
Chianti walked with a firm step, as always, moving between the shadows, without attracting anyone's attention. The mission was clear: eliminate, erase, disappear. But everything changed the moment she accidentally collided with a young man coming in the opposite direction.
The blow was slight, almost insignificant, but the contact was enough. She raised her head to apologize, but that was when she saw him. Shinichi Kudo.
The sight of his eyes was enough to stop her. Her entire body tensed, as if a bolt of lightning had pierced her chest. Time seemed to slow down, the air became dense, and for an instant, Chianti couldn't breathe. Her heart began to pound hard in her chest, as if she wanted to escape. That teenager, with his arrogant and confident expression, seemed to see everything. How could a single human being cause so much chaos in her mind?
"It can't be... What's going on?"
That strange feeling washed over her, a mix of confusion and something else... something she had never felt before. It wasn't fear. It wasn't attraction. It was a vulnerability she had never experienced. A weakness. A blow to her very being.
"Are you okay?" Shinichi's voice broke the spell, his tone neutral, unaware of what he had done to her.
Chianti, however, couldn't answer. She was frozen, trapped in that penetrating gaze that seemed to read her like an open book. How was it possible for a mere teenager to disarm her like that? How could his presence, so carefree and so alien, stir something deep within her?
The image of Shinichi, with that serenity that seemed to challenge her, began to fade. And then, as if something had awakened her, Chianti abruptly pulled away from him, without saying a word. Her body reacted immediately, and her mind tried to regain control, but the damage was already done. That erratic beat in her heart wouldn't go away, that uncomfortable feeling she couldn't label followed her like a shadow.
"What the hell is happening to me?" she said to herself as she began to walk away, her mind confused, still filled with the image of Kudo's eyes.
The memory faded, and Chianti returned to cold reality. Conan. The same feeling. The same heartbeat. The same fear.
"It can't be."
Chianti raised her hand to her chest, as if trying to crush that feeling within herself. Why did she feel this? The boy… that boy named Conan… was he the one who brought about the same thing she once felt with Kudo?
"What are you thinking?" Korn's voice interrupted her mind, his tone low but laden with uncertainty. What bothered her most, though, was that she didn't understand. She couldn't fathom what was going on inside her. No one would.
Korn watched her, seeing the change in her face. There was something there, something in her eyes, an internal struggle so deep that he could no longer ignore it. What the hell was going on with Chianti?
"He's just a boy," she repeated, as if those words could dispel the storm that tormented her. But she didn't understand. She couldn't understand that this wasn't just a goal, that this boy had unleashed something much stronger than any mission, than any revenge.
Chianti clenched her fists, feeling her heart beat faster. "No. I'm not weak." She tried to convince herself, but the truth hit her hard. This feeling couldn't be ignored, couldn't be suppressed.
"Why is this happening to me?" she whispered, more to herself than to Korn, confusion and pain filling her words. "I can't... I can't let it get to me. I can't...
The memory of Kudo. The memory of that dangerous teenager... so... intriguing. And now this boy. Conan. Is this what it feels like?
Korn looked at her, not knowing how to respond. What could she say to him? Nothing. Chianti was lost, caught between the darkness of her past and the confusion of her present. Something had changed, and she couldn't accept it.
"This isn't just a mission. This isn't just a goal. It's something more."
With a labored breath, Chianti took a step back, as if the weight of her own thoughts had brought her down. She no longer knew if the mission was the only thing she had to accomplish. What if this child had something to do with her? Something that even she didn't understand.
But before she could delve deeper into her thoughts, Conan, so oblivious to her conflict, appeared in her mind again. What would she do with him?
The question hung in the air, unanswered.
The city below remained silent. Night had taken over every corner, enveloping everything in a deadly stillness. The wind blew softly, as if nature itself had stopped to observe what was happening on top of the building. Chianti couldn't stop moving, her feet walking along the edge, among the shadows, aimlessly, without control.
"What am I now?"
That question echoed in her mind like an endless echo. She had been trained not to hesitate. She had been forged in ice, a killer without remorse. But now, she found herself trapped in the fog of her own feelings, as if she were a wounded animal, unable to flee. The weight of the rifle in her hand was no longer enough to comfort her. It wasn't just the boy, it was herself.
A broken sigh escaped her lips, but there was no one there to hear it. Korn, at her side, remained silent, watching his companion with a look that was a mix of confusion and disapproval. But not even he could understand what Chianti was about to do.
Conan's vision faded in her mind once more. That look. That look filled with calm, with something so impenetrable that it overwhelmed everything she had ever known. She couldn't turn away from that image. Or from the image of Shinichi Kudo. It was the same.
The pain, the confusion, the desire. Was that what she felt? Was that what was dragging her soul into the abyss? Everything around her seemed to be crumbling. But there was no escape.
"Chianti." Korn's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, cold and sharp. "Do it. Let this end."
His words were simple. Direct. Exact. Korn didn't know what was looming over her, didn't understand the internal battle that was tearing her apart. She couldn't know.
Chianti raised her head, her eyes fixed on the moon, which illuminated the darkness with a cold, indifferent light. She felt the pressure in her chest, the anxiety of not knowing what to do. The mission. The revenge. The solution was simple. The boy had to die. He was just an obstacle, a piece that had been taken off the board, but her heart was no longer in it.
The memory of the first time she had seen Shinichi Kudo came back to her mind, as vivid and real as if it had been yesterday. The way his presence had unsettled her, as if a spark had been ignited deep within her. Was this what she felt now? A reflection of that same unease? An echo of the past?
The night stretched on as her soul twisted. "Why?"
Chianti gritted her teeth, gripping the rifle tightly, the barrel already pointed where Conan should be. "No. I must not give in." But her finger trembled on the trigger. The tension was unbearable. Time seemed to stop, dragging her further into the abyss of indecision.
A part of her wanted to end it all, wanted to follow the same old path: eliminate, erase, destroy. But another part of her, a part she didn't understand, didn't want to. She couldn't.
And it was at that moment, when the night no longer offered comfort, when the echo of her own conflict seemed to drown her, that the truth reached her with relentless brutality.
"This isn't just a mission. I'm not just an assassin."
Chianti's heart pounded, as if it were about to burst. She couldn't. She couldn't be this. She couldn't let the memories, the fear, the desire overcome her. But she couldn't move on, be who she had been, either. Everything she knew, everything she had been, had crumbled, shattered by a child.
What if she let go of the mission? What if she didn't shoot?
The shadows lengthened. The echoes of her soul coalesced into a single silent scream. "I can't go on."
"I can't go on..."
And in that moment, the answer came, not in the form of action, but in the form of her own pain, of the raw truth that had trapped her. She was no longer what she had been. She could no longer be. The mask had cracked, and what was left behind was something more human, something more vulnerable, something she couldn't ignore. The boy. Conan.
With a shaking hand, Chianti slowly lowered the rifle. She didn't fire. She couldn't.
"Chianti?" Korn's voice, at last, vibrated in the stillness, more hesitant than he himself would have liked.
Chianti didn't answer. She didn't need to.
Silence filled the air. A silence so deep it weighed like lead.
"What am I going to do now?" The question lingered in her mind, but there was no answer now.
The moonlight shone down on her, as cold and distant as the resolve that had been broken in her soul. Chianti looked down at the rifle she held in her hands, now useless, and let the barrel fall to the ground.
The mission had failed. Not because of her, but because of something much deeper. Something she could never control.
In the distance, Conan's figure disappeared into the shadows of the night. She would never know what Chianti had felt at that moment. And she, in turn, would never know if it was the end of her mission, or the beginning of something she could never understand.
And in that dark night, Chianti stood there, lost in her own confusion, as the world continued to spin, indifferent to the silent war that was waged within her soul.
The air was growing thicker, thicker. The night, though silent, seemed to roar in her mind. Her heartbeats stretched, overflowing the stillness of her broken soul. Chianti was still there, standing in the shadows, her face a mask of torment. The city, so far away, barely reached her with its cold lights. Her breathing was heavy, ragged, as if the very air itself were oppressing her.
Then, a whisper pierced the stillness. A movement.
A reflection, a figure, a flash in the shadows.
Chianti looked up, her eyes fixed on the figure that slowly approached, floating like an apparition. The silhouette was unmistakable. A young man, a teenager, with messy hair, piercing eyes, but as empty as the darkness itself that surrounded them. His steps were light, almost nonexistent, and his presence only increased the tension in the air. It was him.
Shinichi. No. Conan.
His name was Conan, but the reflection coming toward her was Shinichi. The distortion of reality was so palpable that Chianti could barely breathe. The figure slipped through the shadows, like a spectre from her own broken dreams. There was no reason for him to be there. It could be nothing more than an illusion, a manifestation of her own inner conflict. But who was this young man who walked with such confidence, with that fatal magnetism that dragged her soul into the darkness?
The distance between them was shortening. His eyes, so similar, looked at her with a burning intensity. It was as if the entire world had disappeared. Only he remained. Only he and his gaze remained.
"Have you given up?" Conan's voice (or perhaps Shinichi's, she didn't know) filtered into her mind, low, soft, filled with a stillness that made her stagger. It was not a question, but a statement.
Chianti tried to move her feet, but her legs seemed nailed to the ground. "No. I can't. I mustn't."
But her body, her soul, could no longer resist the closeness of that figure. Conan's face came closer and closer, the darkness seemed to envelop them, melting them into an image that could not distinguish between what was real and what was illusory.
Conan's eyes shone with an intensity that paralyzed her. Fear, attraction, desire... everything mixed in her chest with brutal force. He was there, and it didn't matter if it was just a projection of her own internal chaos. He was there.
"What are you afraid of?" he asked, his voice like a whisper that slid across her skin. It was as if he were inside her mind, touching every corner of her darkest thoughts.
Chianti struggled to look away, to stop feeling drawn to that presence. "This isn't right…"
But the young man came closer, and with each step, his face became more familiar, closer. His piercing gaze left no room for doubt. It was Shinichi, and it was Conan. Two sides of the same coin. Two fragments of a whole that drove her crazy.
And then, in a movement as soft as mist, Conan reached out his hand towards her, so close that she could feel the heat emanating from his skin. Chianti felt a pressure in her chest, an irrational desire to touch them, to feel connected to him, if only for an instant.
"You know what you want. Don't keep running away." the words were so dark, so tempting. And yet, there was a softness in his voice, an invitation that cut deep into her soul.
"No…" Chianti whispered, struggling to maintain control. But her soul had already given itself over to the storm of her emotions.
The boy, Conan, stopped right in front of her, so close she could see the shadows of his face reflected in his eyes. His heartbeat was the only sound in her mind, accelerating with every second, with every breath. The image of Shinichi, so confident, so defiant, merged with that of Conan, the boy who had so baffled her.
"Why do you keep resisting? You don't have to fight anymore." the words trailed off like sweet poison, wrapped in deadly serenity.
Chianti closed her eyes, but the vision didn't go away. He was there. He was real, even though in her mind, everything was falling apart. The temptation to give in, to surrender to desire, was stronger than any mission, any revenge.
Conan's—or Shinichi's—hand descended toward her face, his touch like a cold whisper that pierced her. "Let me... help you."
"No... I can't." The answer came out of her mouth like a stifled cry, but she didn't have the strength to pull away from him.
Then, his face, so close, so fatal, drew her to him. And, in that moment, everything vanished. The past, the future, the shadows surrounding her... there was only him. There was only that dark desire, that brutal need that she couldn't control.
What would happen if she gave in?
With her eyes half closed, Chianti felt her mind dissolve, Conan's heat envelop her entire being. "It's too late to go back." The temptation was so strong, so uncontrollable, that she didn't even fight to stop it.
"I can't. I mustn't." But her body had already spoken for her. In that instant, between reality and fantasy, the dark desire became stronger than any resolution.
Conan's hand touched her face, and in the touch of his fingers, Chianti disappeared. He left behind the assassin, the shadow, the vengeance. Only she and he remained. Only desire remained.
The wind, which had been so cold and sharp before, now seemed to whisper softly, like a caress on her face. The cold moonlight illuminated the figure still in front of her, but now everything seemed less sinister. His face, full of calm and serenity, no longer seemed like a threat, but a refuge. A refuge that, strange as it was, Chianti desired with a force she did not understand. The chaos within her soul quieted around her.
Conan, or perhaps it was Shinichi at that moment, was there, so close, with that gaze so deep, that it enveloped her completely. The temptation, the confusion, the darkness… everything dissolved in his eyes.
"You are not alone." Conan's voice, soft and comforting, came like a whisper that passed through her. It was like a balm for the pain that had been burning in her chest. There was something else in his words, something so sincere that it disconcerted her.
Chianti raised her head, looking at Conan with a mix of wonder and vulnerability. Her lips trembled, but she couldn't find the words to describe what she felt. The war she was waging inside seemed to fade away, replaced by a strange peace she had never known.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Her voice trembled as she spoke the words. It wasn't a question, but a silent plea, a request to understand.
Conan didn't answer right away. Instead, he took a step closer, so close that Chianti could feel his presence so palpably, so tangible, that her heart began to pound. That closeness made her feel a vulnerability she had never allowed herself to in her life. Why now?
"Because..." Conan reached out his hand to her, his fingers gently brushing her cheek. "Because you're not what you think you are. And you don't have to carry all of this alone."
The words floated between them, laden with a sweetness that didn't fit in the world of shadows Chianti knew. A guardian angel. That was what she felt. Though her mind denied it, her heart knew: Conan wasn't an enemy. He wasn't just a child, he wasn't just an obstacle she needed to remove. He was the only person who saw her, the only one who wasn't willing to judge her, the only one who made her feel… something more.
Chianti closed her eyes, and for a moment, she let the world fade away. Only his hands remained, so soft, so warm, touching her face. It was a warmth so unexpected, so out of place in her life, that she couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion. How had she gotten here? In her memories, pain and darkness had always been present. She had never had the chance to feel something different, something more human. But he… he was there, and his presence seemed to melt all the barriers she had raised around her heart.
"You don't have to keep fighting, Chianti. Not everything in this world is darkness." Conan whispered those words as if they were a secret shared only between them, as if he were saying it for her, only for her. And for the first time, Chianti believed it.
Chianti's eyes slowly opened, meeting Conan's gaze. In that instant, she no longer saw a child, an enemy, or a threat. She only saw a young man with a soul as pure as the moon itself.
Conan smiled softly, a smile that was not that of a child, but that of someone who understood more than he let on, someone who had seen pain and darkness, but who chose the light.
"You don't have to fear your feelings, Chianti." His voice was so calm, so full of a security that seemed to have disappeared from her world a long time ago. "It's okay to be vulnerable. It's okay to let someone take care of you."
Chianti couldn't help it. The tears she had been holding back for so long began to slowly fall down her cheeks. It wasn't sadness, nor despair, but something much deeper. A mix of relief, of surrender, of a release she had never imagined.
How could it be so easy? How could this boy, this child, make her soul feel so at peace, so understood? It couldn't be real.
And yet, in that instant, when the distance between them disappeared completely, Conan wrapped her in his arms, holding her in a way so protective, so comforting, that Chianti couldn't resist. She was sure.
The embrace was warm, tender, full of a softness that seemed to tell her that everything would be okay. That, perhaps, not everything in life was darkness. That, perhaps, she could still find something other than revenge. That there was still room for something more, something she didn't understand, but felt with all her being.
"I promise I won't let you hurt yourself." Conan's words were sincere, warm, so full of a love Chianti had never known. It wasn't romantic love, not yet, but it was something much deeper. A promise.
The world around them faded away, leaving just the two of them, holding each other, floating in a bubble of calm and affection. And for the first time in her life, Chianti didn't want that bubble to break. She didn't want the darkness to drag her down again. In Conan's arms, she found a hope she had never imagined, a light that could guide her, if only for that brief moment.
And in that embrace, Chianti finally allowed herself to rest.
Chianti closed her eyes for a moment, letting the softness of the embrace envelop her, as if it were the only real thing in a world that was falling apart. Conan's warmth, so comforting, so pure, seeped into her soul, melting the layers of ice she had accumulated over the years, each one thicker than the last. She had always been a shadow, a killer, a person caught between duty and emptiness. But now, in his arms, she felt for the first time that she could be something more.
Conan's embrace kept her anchored in a sea of feelings that she didn't understand, but that, somehow, she didn't care about anymore. What did it matter that it was all an illusion? What did it matter that he wasn't sure if he was real or not? He understood her.
"Conan..." she whispered, so softly that it was barely a sigh.
Conan, so close to her, let his breath mix with hers, creating a warm, protective atmosphere. It seemed like time had ceased to exist, that the entire world had disappeared around them. Only the two of them remained, surrounded by the stillness of the night and the soft whisper of the wind.
"Tell me, Chianti..." Conan's voice was deep, serene, like a melody that made her feel calm, even though her heart was pounding.
She, however, could not escape the temptation to look at him, to see that calm and confident expression that held her captive. But, at that moment, Chianti understood something she had been ignoring for so long: it didn't matter if it was all an illusion or a dream, what she felt was real.
With a slight movement, Chianti raised a hand, gently touching Conan's cheek, as if afraid he would fade away. He didn't pull away. In his eyes, there was a reflection of something deeper, something that seemed to tell her she was not alone. "I'm here."
A lump formed in her throat, a feeling she had never experienced. How could it be so simple? How could someone so young, so unattainable, have such a profound power over her? There were no answers. There were no explanations. There was only a desire that surpassed her logic, something so pure that she felt her soul begin to heal.
"What do you want from me, Chianti?" Conan asked, with a gentleness that disarmed her. "You don't have to fight anymore."
It was as if, in his gaze, she saw an invitation to be something more than a shadow, more than a broken figure. Vulnerable. Human. Alive. And in that instant, the desire to surrender, to let go of everything she had been, invaded her heart.
"I want… I want to let go." Chianti's voice trembled, and the words came out with an echo of sincerity that she hadn't even recognized. For the first time in her entire life, she was willing to follow her heart, without thinking about the past, without worrying about the consequences.
Conan's hand, still resting on her shoulder, slowly moved up to her cheek, gently tracing the contours of her face. There was no hurry in his gesture, only a stillness that seemed to stop time itself. He looked at her, deeply, as if he saw her soul. "You don't have to fear me."
Fear him? In that instant, Chianti realized she wasn't afraid of him. She never had been. She was afraid of herself, of what her heart could unleash. But in his eyes, in that look full of understanding and unspoken promises, she found a peace she had never known.
The silence stretched out, and in that silence, Chianti allowed herself what she had never been able to allow herself: to follow what she felt.
With a softness that seemed to flow from the very core of her being, Chianti leaned towards him, her lips barely touching Conan's. A shy kiss, soft, but filled with a deep tenderness that they both needed. It was a kiss full of silent promises, as if, in that contact, they could share everything that was not said with words.
Conan responded to the kiss just as gently, without rushing, as if he feared that the magic of that moment would be broken. The warmth of his mouth, the delicacy of his gestures, gave Chianti something she had never imagined. A refuge. A place where she could be herself, where she could stop hiding, fighting, surviving.
The kiss lengthened, transforming into something more. Something sweet, something that not even the years of darkness could extinguish. It was a perfect moment, if only for a brief moment.
When they separated, Conan looked at her again, this time with an expression that seemed to understand her soul, without words, without judgment.
"You found him, right?" she asked in a whisper, as if she understood everything that had happened between them. And in that moment, Chianti knew he was talking about something bigger. About herself.
Chianti nodded, speechless, and for the first time in her life, she felt whole. Not because of vengeance, or chaos, or duty. But because of what she had just discovered in her heart.
And, although she knew that darkness was still lurking, that reality would not change immediately, in that instant, everything was fine.
She had followed her heart, for the first and last time, and it had set her free.
Conan's embrace, the touch of his lips, the softness of his touch… All of it began to fade away like a dream slipping through her fingers. Chianti, eyes still closed, clung to that feeling, trying to hold on to it, to keep it at all costs. She couldn't leave, she thought, she didn't want it to go.
But something inside her, something deep and dark, began to notice the change. The air around her was no longer warm. The softness of his arms slowly disappeared, as if it had never been there. Conan's presence faded, like a shadow slipping through the darkness.
Chianti opened her eyes, and the vision around her became blurrier, less tangible. What was happening? A shiver ran through her body as she looked around, the city landscape slowly crumbling, losing definition. Conan's face, once so close, now seemed to blur, as if it were an illusion, a mirage.
"Conan...?" Chianti's voice trembled, her heart pounding, panic beginning to take over her. It can't be.
Conan smiled, that same smile so calm, so self-assured, but his eyes... His eyes began to fade, as if the light of his soul was slowly fading.
"Don't be afraid, Chianti." Conan's voice no longer sounded so close. There was something distant, something unreal about it. —"What we've shared, that truth... is still within you. Even if I'm not here."
No. It couldn't be. Chianti tried to hold on to him, to that very real figure that had touched her heart. But, when her hand reached his face, her fingers passed through the figure, as if she were touching air, a rapidly expanding void. Everything was fading away.
"Don't... don't go." The desperation was evident in his voice, and for the first time in a long time, Chianti felt completely unprotected, vulnerable to a feeling she had never known: fear.
Conan began to fade faster, the light around him disappearing in pieces, as if he were a glass construction breaking in the wind. Conan's expression remained serene, almost indulgent, but his eyes no longer looked at her as they had before. There was nothing tangible anymore. Nothing real.
Chianti stepped back, feeling her legs wobble beneath her, as everything around her darkened, as if the shadows were devouring everything she had experienced again. The cold returned with force, embracing her again, dragging her into that darkness she knew all too well.
"No!" Chianti screamed, her voice broken, but nothing could stop the disappearance of the illusion. Conan's figure finally faded completely, leaving only the emptiness around her. Instead, there was only darkness, like a deep, bottomless pit surrounding her.
She dropped to her knees, tears flowing uncontrollably again. What had that been? An illusion? A dream her mind had created to deceive her, to give her something she could never have? Why, after everything that had happened, did she feel as if a part of her soul had been ripped away?
Conan's words, those promises of not being alone, of not having to fear... had all that been false?
"It's not fair..." she whispered, almost like a plea to the void. But the darkness around her did not respond. There was no comfort, no answers. There was only the weight of her broken soul, the emptiness of an illusion that faded into nothingness.
The cold embraced her again, the calm of before turning into unstoppable despair. She would never be able to escape this cycle. Not even for a brief moment had she been free.
Her heart still pounding, Chianti closed her eyes, wishing it had all been real. But she knew. Conan's light, that fleeting connection, had been just a flash in the darkness, a moment that faded as quickly as it came.
Conan was gone. And she, more than ever, was alone.