Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

“I’m a lawyer, and your father used to be a policeman. How do you expect us to accept him?”

"Do you want your child's future father to be a criminal?"

"Xiaolan, your father and mother are begging you, please don't be so stubborn..."

"Xiao Lan, don't stab us in the heart..."

Sonoko held her hand, tears welling in her eyes, her gaze equally pleading:

"Lan! I'm begging you, think about your aunt and uncle, think about yourself! What will you do if you stay with him? Do you even have a future?"

Familiar faces appeared one after another: friends, classmates, even Inspector Megure and Inspector Sato...

They surrounded her, their voices—some urgent, some heartbroken, some stern, some pleading—forming a buzzing wave.

"Leave him."

"This is for your own good."

"You shouldn't be with that kind of person."

She tried to explain, but her voice was drowned out by the noise.

She wanted to say that Qingze wasn't what they imagined, but the name "Koniak" itself was like an insurmountable, bloodstained chasm, standing between her and everyone she cherished.

Morality, justice, family, friendship... all the forces that once supported her have now turned into sharp arrows of accusation, pinning her to the spot, unable to move, and almost suffocating her.

It was dusk, and the sky was ablaze with a poignant sunset, turning the abandoned dock a blood-red hue.

The smoke had not completely dissipated, and the air was filled with the smell of burnt metal and rust.

The fighting seemed to have ceased; the silence was eerily profound.

She saw Qingze standing alone on an empty platform, with the still-smoldering wreckage and twisted metal behind him.

His black clothes were mostly torn, his face was covered in dust and minor scars, and his breathing was a little unsteady, but his posture remained upright.

He was no longer the lazy Qingze of the day, nor the cold and ruthless Koniak, but rather a weary traveler who had shed all pretense and burdens and returned to a certain essential state.

He gazed in the direction she was, and although there was a distance between them, his eyes were fixed on her, as if this farewell was the inevitable end for them.

He suddenly smiled, a smile devoid of gloom, only a serene calm after all the superficiality had been washed away.

“Lan,” his voice came through the wind, clear enough to break your heart, “go back to your world.”

The flames were still burning, and the explosions behind them were still rumbling. In these final moments, the person who had always been hypocritical and unwilling to admit his feelings finally spoke some words.

"I love you more than anything in this absurd world. But that's why I don't want you to fall in love with me, burdened by the sin of Koniak."

"This path, from the first time I raised my knife, there was no turning back. I am already covered in blood, soaked in darkness, clearly distinct from the light. Your world is pure and spotless, and should not be tainted by my colors in the slightest."

"I will use all the methods I can to teach and guide you, hoping that you can have enough strength and wisdom to cope with this not-so-beautiful world and to fly to a higher and farther sky."

"Life is not just about love. The death of one person, no matter whose, does not break the world."

"Time possesses the most powerful force; it will smooth over the sand like ocean waves, slowly dissolving all pain, obsession, love, and hate..."

"Don't let yourself be trapped in today forever, trapped in my shadow."

"Go back, go back to your world. This chaotic exchange of consciousness is over."

He gazed at her intently, as if trying to imprint her image into the deepest part of his soul.

"I sincerely hope that you can always be free and unrestrained, like the wind."

"I sincerely hope that you can stay true to yourself and not let anything external distort your bright soul."

"I sincerely hope that you will become the Ran Mouri you want to be."

"Then, forget me."

Flames and roars resounded behind us, bursting forth with dazzling and intense light and heat.

He didn't turn around, nor did he try to avoid her; he simply kept looking at her with a faint smile on his lips.

He closed his eyes, opened his arms, and was submerged in the wave of fire and flames.

"This world is so boring, I need to rest."

Chapter 434 Gods, please, don't let the dream come true.

"No—!!! Aze—!!!"

Ran Mouri sat up abruptly in bed, her heart pounding wildly, as if it would burst her ribs and jump out of her chest.

Cold sweat instantly soaked through my pajamas, and my wet hair clung to my skin, sending chills down my spine.

She gasped for breath, as if she were truly inhaling the gunpowder smoke from her dream.

It was already daylight.

As dawn broke through the gaps in the curtains, it sliced ​​out several pale white streaks of light in the room.

The alarm clock hadn't gone off yet; the room was so quiet that only her heavy breathing and the buzzing sound in her ears could be heard.

It was a dream.

It was just a nightmare.

Reason slowly returned, and I repeatedly told her the truth.

But everything in that dream—the piercing gazes of the crowd, the piercing words, the twilight scene at the dock, the figure engulfed by flames, and Qingze's farewell before his death—was all too real.

It was so real that every detail was unforgettable. The despair of being on the verge of death and the heart-wrenching grief felt like a real experience, heavy and accumulating in her chest, making it hard for her to breathe.

Tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision and burning down her cold cheeks.

She covered her mouth, but couldn't stop sobbing.

Is this really... just a dream?

Or is it the future that actually happened in some parallel universe?

The intense pain of loss was so real that even now, looking at her slightly trembling hands, she could still feel the lingering, illusory warmth of the flames.

She sat blankly on the bed for a long time, until the first full ray of morning light climbed onto the windowsill.

She walked barefoot to the window and reached out to pull back the curtains.

The morning sunlight streamed in without any obstruction, and it was somewhat dazzling.

The street downstairs began to awaken, with sporadic sounds of cars and people talking; it was just an ordinary morning.

She pressed her slightly feverish forehead against the cool glass, closed her eyes, and tears silently streamed down her face once again.

"Gods...please..."

"No matter what happens... please make sure he's alright..."

"No matter the cost... please don't let my dream come true..."

"please……"

......

Dream.

It was just a dream.

Two identical figures sat facing each other in the pitch-black space, their faces, clothes, and even the curve of every single strand of hair were exactly the same, like a mirror placed in absolute silence.

However, their expressions were completely different.

This scene again left Qingze speechless. "Is this some kind of bizarre way of talking to yourself?"

The person opposite him stared at him intently, their expression neither joyful nor sorrowful, without the slightest ripple of emotion.

"Didn't you deny that I was yourself last time?"

Qingze leaned back lazily, resting his elbows on the back of the chair and supporting his cheek with his palms, his posture as nonchalant as if he were watching a farce that had nothing to do with him.

"I was just saying it casually, why did you take it so seriously?"

The person opposite did not respond to the question. He leaned forward slightly, placed his hands on his knees, and stared at the person who was trying to pretend even in front of him with an all-seeing gaze.

"I know best what you're thinking about."

The casual smile on Qingze's face vanished abruptly. He sat up straight, leaning forward, almost mirroring the posture of the person opposite him.

This posture carries a strong sense of aggression.

Two identical figures closed the distance in the void, their foreheads almost touching.

But the moment of touch, what came was not body heat, but a hard, cold, and isolated feeling, as if pressed against a mirror.

"Since you are me, then don't put on this act, making me feel like I have a split personality."

The person opposite him didn't respond to that, his eyes carrying a sense of indifferent detachment, yet also a genuine bewilderment and confusion.

"What exactly is emotion?"

……

In the bathroom, Ran Mouri splashed cold water on her face repeatedly to suppress the palpitations brought on by the nightmare, and went to school with her backpack.

On the way, she couldn't resist taking out her phone several times, her finger hovering over Qingze's number, but in the end, she only sent a short message:

Good morning, Ze. I'm off to school.

At this hour, Qingze should still be asleep; she doesn't know how to describe that all-too-real nightmare.

Given Qingze's intense self-loathing, if he hadn't accepted her feelings, he really would have arranged that kind of ending for himself.

An ending that clears away all crises and resolves "itself" as well.

Those properties that were prepared for transfer were probably his "inheritance" rather than proof to reassure his "father-in-law".

But things are different now than in the dream.

Qingze accepted her feelings, and he began to think about the future, so things would no longer be like they were in his dream.

In the garage, Qingze casually put his phone back into his coat pocket, opened the car door, and got into the driver's seat.

The engine started, emitting a low, steady sound. He glanced at his expressionless face in the rearview mirror, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He picked it up and looked at it. His coldness subsided, and his eyes softened again.

Study hard and make progress every day.

Qingze's reply came unexpectedly quickly.

The words that he often spoke were like a gentle breeze, smoothing out the wrinkles in her heart. She was both pleasantly surprised and somewhat taken aback.

Are you up this early today?

[I'm going to visit the Matsui family to make some arrangements.]

He put his phone aside, started the car, and drove out of the garage.

Arrangements should be made as quickly and thoroughly as possible.

Besides visiting Sachiko Matsui's hometown, Kyoto, her birthplace, is also a must-see.

He wanted to build the firewall between "Qingze" and "Koniak" as thick as possible to minimize vulnerabilities.

While we're at it, let's go pay our respects...

His phone vibrated again. He glanced at it; it was her reply: "Be careful on the road."

It was followed by a small sun emoji.

He smiled slightly, but didn't reply. He turned the steering wheel and merged into the increasingly dense morning traffic.

Upon receiving Qingze's brief but timely reply, knowing that he had already begun to take action, Ran Mouri's sense of unease finally subsided.

She put away her phone, tilted her head back to face the rising, warming sun, took a deep breath of the morning air, and her steps unconsciously became lighter.

When she arrived at the classroom and put down her schoolbag, her face no longer showed much gloom.

Seeing Sonoko turn around at the table in front of her, she even smiled, and then suddenly reached out and grabbed Sonoko's wrist before she could pull it back.

"Huh? Ran?" Sonoko was taken aback.

Ran Mouri didn't explain, but simply took out a simple metal bracelet from her pocket and gently put it on Sonoko's wrist.

Then, she turned to Sera Masumi, who was looking over curiously, and took her hand, putting another bracelet with a similar design but a different pattern on her wrist.