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Teitan Shōgakkō’s hallways have borne witness to many different characters since its foundation.
From young students who barely started their journey through life, to the revolving doors of elementary school teachers, as well as the other staff members that carefully watch over batch after batch of tiny children. Some of those children go on to become well-known and successful adults, some cruise through life with decently paying jobs, others struggle to fulfill their dreams.
The thing is; elementary school age, while exciting to the tiny humans of that group, was the quietest, safest, most stable and predictable part of a person’s lifespan. Their concerns should be being able to eat their favorite food all the time, whining about homework, watching their favorite shows, comparing toys with their friends, etcetera etcetera.
There were only a few exceptions.
One of those exceptions happens to be in the form of a group of first graders who are a bit too familiar with the police than any sensible adult would have liked. Not because they cause trouble, but rather because they were always somehow caught up in them.
What first grader needed to be excused from classes because they were witness for murder? Was kidnapped? Was shot? Was caught in bombings? All of those at the same time?
The Shōnen Tantei-dan, apparently.
Kobayashi Sumiko was prepared to handle rowdy six- to seven-year-olds. She had the patience to deal with stubborn parents and liked to think she had the guts to stand up for what was right. Being assigned to be the teacher for class 1-B of Teitan Shōgakkō was something like a dream come true. She worked hard to be there.
But for all that she knew she was ready to handle the future generations of Japan, nobody ever told her that one of the hazards of being an elementary school teacher involved seeing enough criminals and dead bodies to fill her own classroom. Never did she expect to be on good terms with a bunch of police officers and even have one as a, eh-hem, love interest.
(Ah, Shiratori-keibu. Just thinking about him was enough to make Sumiko smile and–)
A-Anyway!
The point she was making is that, all of those considered, Sumiko (and the rest of the school administration and faculty) really should have expected something to happen during an educational day trip that included the full attendance of the Shōnen Tantei-dan and their ringleader.
Now she understood Wakasa-sensei’s worried countenance before they left school grounds with the entire batch of Teitan Shōgakkō’s first graders along with each class’s respective teachers and a group of volunteer chaperones.
It was a nice day out, with clear skies and the winds carrying the pleasant autumn breeze. The perfect weather for a trip to visit the Meiji Shrine and, after lunch, the adjacent Yoyogi Park.
The children walked in neat lines, dutifully following their teachers, and chatting with their assigned ‘buddy’. There wasn’t much of a crowd today, and many of the teachers had sighed in relief once they realized that fact. Less crowds meant lesser chances of accidentally misplacing a child, after all.
Sumiko cheerfully led class 1-B, keeping a careful eye on her students despite the lingering glances she sent towards her, er, companion. Wakasa-sensei kept to the rear of the class’s line to ensure no one wandered off, entertaining their most (troublesome) curious group of students with a smile.
They arrived at the shrine with little to no incidents.
(Morita-kun from class 1-C was apparently afraid of caterpillars. Seeing one on a bench had spooked him quite a bit.)
The children were allowed to wander as long as they kept within sight of their teachers, but all of the adults there were prepared to have to find a dozen or two by the time they would have to leave. Thankfully, Teitan Shōgakkō was known to bring their students out here for a trip during this time, so most authorities and shrine occupants know to keep an eye out.
For a while, Sumiko watched the children curiously poking around, giggling quietly as a few boasted what they knew about the place. The Meiji Shrine was rather popular, so it was no surprise many of the children had already visited it with their parents. She could see her co-workers explaining the history of the shrine to their classes.
…should Sumiko have been doing so as well?
But…
“For something so old, this building does look rather new,” came Kojima-kun’s comment.
Yoshida-san nodded. “Ah, you’re right. Ayumi has seen more run down and scary shrines.”
“That’s because this isn’t the original building,” Tsuburaya-kun informed them proudly. “If I recall correctly, it was destroyed in a war…” He trailed off, visibly trying to remember.
“Tōkyōdaikūshū,” Conan-kun continued, as casual as can be. “The Tokyo air bombings by the US Air Force during the Asia-Pacific war. Or, more generally, during World War two. They shifted use to incendiary bombs because, strategically, it worked well against the wood-and-paper buildings in Japan. Meiji Shrine was rebuilt in 1958, so it is relatively new.”
“Incendiary…” Tsuburaya-kun rubbed his chin in thought. “That means they were designed to start fires, right?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Conan-kun agreed. “The conditions during that time resulted in a firestorm that burnt a quarter of Tokyo to the ground. It was just the first of five raids that targeted other cities too.”
Yoshida-san frowned. “Hidoi…”
“That’s just how it is,” Haibara-san shrugged. “War has always brought out the worst part of humanity. But that doesn’t mean it’s isolated in those circumstances…”
Conan-kun gave her a look. “Oi, Haibara.”
The group continued, oblivious to the other students (and some tourists) that followed them around to eavesdrop on their conversation.
A part of Sumiko found amusement in how the entirety of class 1-B, along with some stragglers from 1-A, gravitated towards the group. She didn’t think it was a conscious decision on any of their parts, but she still remembered the days when some of her students didn’t get along well.
Edogawa Conan was an odd child, there was no doubt about that. The other children sensed it too, so it had started to look like poor Conan-kun would be something of an outcast and Sumiko had worried so much. But over time, he managed to carve a niche for himself with the help of the Shōnen Tantei-dan.
It was just that his role didn’t seem to have settled into just another classmate.
Seeing her class now, casting little glances as if to make sure a certain group was within eyesight and keeping close, warmed something in Sumiko. Because in this environment, outside of the classroom, she could now pinpoint what role Conan-kun had taken.
An older brother.
Images of a bunch of seven-year-olds calling out Conan-niisan filled her mind and Sumiko couldn’t help but giggle. Ah, so adorable. Maybe she’d see it one day when Conan-kun becomes Conan-senpai to the other kids.
Left with nothing else but to observe (because she had a walking encyclopedia as a student, and Sumiko can’t really top that), she turned to her companion.
“Thank you so much for taking the time off to come with us,” Sumiko fidgeted, face heating up with the familiar bashfulness that always came with interacting with her…Shiratori-keibu. “You didn’t have to.”
Sumiko felt rather guilty, considering she asked Shiratori-keibu jokingly to volunteer as chaperone on such short notice. And he accepted.
“It’s fine,” Shiratori-keibu smiled at her and Sumiko couldn't help but mirror it. “I wanted to spend more time with you, and I don’t mind accompanying you on a school trip. It would certainly ease my mind to know you and your students don’t come across trouble.” Here, he side-eyed a certain bespectacled boy who, as if sensing the turn of their conversation, looked at them curiously.
“Ah, yes,” Sumiko waved at Conan-kun, at which he tilted his head before going back to his conversation with Haibara-san. It was cute, really, how the two often spoke at the same wavelength that only they can reach. It wouldn’t surprise her if they end up together someday.
(Some of the faculty and staff were already rooting for them. Such a bond was rare for kids their age.)
Pulling away from thoughts of children dating, oh god, she must protect their innocence, Sumiko turned her attention back to the inspector, only now noticing the watchful way he regarded their surroundings. It was concerning. “Is there trouble that we need to look out for?”
Shiratori-keibu blinked, before giving her a sheepish smile. “Nothing of immediate concern, I believe. I apologize for worrying you. But–” Spotting Sumiko’s frown and correctly guessing that she found his deflection unconvincing, Shiratori reluctantly continued. “The truth is, the MPD received a rather threatening message a few days ago. The message was vague and analyzing it was inconclusive, but we have determined that it came from an extremist group and that they plan on attacking a public area.”
“Oh my,” Sumiko covered her mouth, horrified, before scanning their surroundings with narrowed, suspicious eyes. She didn’t really know what to look for, but there must be something just to ease the bad feeling that churned in her gut at the mention of an extremist group. Japan doesn’t have many of them, but she knew how dangerous they can get. “They wouldn’t target a shrine, would they?”
The inspector pursed his lips, about to open his mouth to respond, but snapped it shut as his eyes caught something. Sumiko followed his gaze and noted that a group of children were huddled around something by the wooden pillars. It was, to her increasing apprehension, the Shōnen Tantei-dan with Wakasa-sensei hovering near them. What caught Shitratori’s (and Sumiko’s) attention was the tense body language the group projected.
She may be the teacher, the adviser of that particular group-slash-club, but it wasn’t Sumiko who had the nose for finding danger. She does, however, trust her instincts when it comes to children and their affinity to get into tight situations.
Experience told her to take their barely controlled tension as a sign that something was wrong.
Sumiko shared a look with Shiratori-keibu and together, they made their way over to the gathering, paces brisk but visibly worried only on her part.
“What’s wrong?” Sumiko asked Wakasa-sensei, who was staring intently at the inconspicuous box Conan-kun had opened. Sumiko couldn't see what was in it, but the two other boys were crowding around it to block it from view.
“Kobayashi-sensei!” Yoshida-san blurted out; eyes wide with fear. “It’s terrible–”
“A bomb?!”
Sumiko’s head whipped over to Shiratori-keibu who had made a beeline to peer into what had the group’s attention. His voice, though filled with alarm, was hushed.
“Yeah,” Conan-kun answered, voice serious and an octave deeper than what she was used to. “We’ve been seeing a lot of these boxes in hard to see corners, so we decided to check one of them.”
Kojima-kun nodded. “We thought it was something for the coming Autumn Grand Festival. Like maybe decorations or food.”
“Or something like a scavenger hunt,” continued Tsuburaya-kun, nervous as he regarded the box. “But we’ve only checked this one.”
“The others most likely contain bombs as well,” Conan-kun pursed his lips as he scanned their surroundings. “But considering the amount we’ve spotted; I can’t be sure if it’s only these boxes we need to look out for.”
“B-But,” Sumiko finally found her voice, though it sounded shaky even to her ears. “Why would someone plant bombs in a shrine? There aren’t usually many people here.”
“They already said it, didn’t they?” Haibara-san said, voice sharper than usual and Sumiko tried not to feel too much like she was being scolded.
“The Autumn Grand Festival.” Shiratori-keibu uttered in realization, eyes wide.
“Sou,” Conan-kun affirmed. “This bomb seems to be activated with a remote control, so even if it would be set to go off on the day of the festival, the culprit could still activate it if they notice the police have found the bombs they planted.”
They descended into silence as it dawned on them how delicate the situation is. Sumiko hugged Yoshida-san as the little girl tightened her grip on Sumiko’s pants. Wakasa-sensei frowned but remained silent.
“What is it?”
Sumiko blinked as the tension was broken by Haibara-san’s question. The reddish-haired girl was gazing at Shiratori-keibu with narrow-eyed suspicion.
Haibara-san continued, “There’s something you’re not telling us.”
“Ah,” Shiratori-keibu laughed nervously, “It’s not something children should concern themselves with.”
And while Sumiko didn’t have Conan-kun’s or even Tsuburaya-kun’s deductive skills, she could at least connect the dots Shiratori-keibu had given her.
The annoyance was visible on all the kids’ faces, particularly on Conan-kun. Sumiko thought she could understand their side of things, but at the same time, she didn’t want them to be exposed to such things even more than they already are. More than being an educator, an elementary school teacher was responsible for preserving their students’ good memories of childhood. Having dealt with criminals as they had been, Sumiko had already failed that part of her duty numerous times.
What was the right thing to do?
Conan-kun pursed his lips, frowning as he regarded Shiratori-keibu with sharp eyes, before pointedly putting his attention back on the bomb. “It doesn’t matter right now. We should just focus on what we need to do with this.”
At his words, the Shōnen Tantei-dan exchanged glances and then nodded resolutely, taking the boy’s lead in prioritizing the situation at hand. Shiratori-keibu sagged in relief and one look at his eyes told Sumiko that if they had pushed, he would have conceded even if it would get him in trouble. Telling Sumiko had probably already been a risk.
“I’ll inform Megure-keibu about what we found.” Shiratori-keibu took out his phone. “Excuse me.” And then he left to make the call, standing not too far away from them but remaining out of earshot.
To shake off the tension that reemerged, Sumiko asked, casting a worried look at the children milling around, “Shouldn’t we evacuate the place?”
“But would it be a good idea to tell the other teachers about it?” Wakasa-sensei finally spoke up, her voice hesitant. “The person who planted the bombs might still be around.”
Sumiko was about to answer when Conan-kun started barking out orders. “Genta, Mitsuhiko, Haibara, go look for the other boxes and check their contents. Don’t move them and don’t act suspicious. Wakasa-sensei is right, the culprit could still be in the shrine.” Then his attention turned to the girl with Sumiko and his gaze softened. “Ayumi, you can come with one of them if you want.”
Yoshida-san bit her lip but extracted herself from Sumiko with shoulders high in determination. “Ayumi will go.”
The children exchanged a look, something heavy and certain settling over them. Then Conan-kun quirked his lips into an approximation of a smirk. “Mark the places you find them in the shrine map. Be careful.”
A chorus of affirmation was given, and they were off.
Sumiko blinked out of her shock at hearing Conan-kun ordering the others around, “A-ah, wait—”
Before she could continue, she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. Sumiko looked beside her to see Wakasa-sensei shaking her head. “You know they can handle themselves, Kobayashi-sensei.”
“B-but, we can’t just let them go around alone!”
“Sensei!”
Both teachers paused to look down at Conan-kun who was smiling at them innocently. Then he blinked and, as if realizing what he just said, flailed, “Ah! Sorry, I meant Kobayashi-sensei!”
Feeling as if she was going to have whiplash at the change of the boy’s mood, Sumiko nodded. “What is it?”
“Why don’t you go to Shiratori-keibu and tell him the others are going to look for the other boxes?” Conan-kun suggested brightly. “Wakasa-sensei can stay with me, so you don’t have to worry.”
A small, insignificant part of Sumiko wondered if she was being manipulated, but the part of her that wholeheartedly believed in a child’s innocence beat it down. So, she agreed with his sound reasoning and made her way to Shiratori-keibu to inform of what the kids had been up to.
Luckily, despite the crowd the children initially attracted, no one really noticed anything out of the norm.
(“Ne, Wakasa-sensei, do you have something sharp with you?”
“I do, here.” She handed over a pocketknife and he didn’t even blink as he accepted. “Hehh, so Conan-kun knows how to disarm a bomb?”
The child smiled blithely. “I watched it on the television!”
Rumi mirrored his smile. “I see!”)
Between the not insignificant efforts of the Shōnen Tantei-dan, they found a good portion of the bombs before the class had to leave the shrine. Thankfully, nothing bad happened, and they concluded that the culprit must have not been around to keep an eye on it. Though pretty capable and easily underestimated, the Shōnen Tantei-dan wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.
The maps they have marked were hastily sent by Shiratori to the counter terrorism division. A couple of officers were sent out undercover to scour the place and diffuse the bombs. Mysteriously, more than half were already disarmed by the time they got there.
But in the end, what would have been a devastating attack on an important establishment was averted.
All because of an elementary school trip.
(MPD’s Conan-kun Brigade shared a collective sigh of relief. There were no dead bodies this time.)
A few days later…
Café Poirot
“Mou,” Ayumi sighed as she swung her feet, nibbling at the straw of her orange juice. “We didn’t even find out who planted those bombs.”
“Yeah…” Mitsuhiko fidgeted with his napkin. “Shiratori-keibu wouldn’t tell us. Even Takagi-keiji wouldn’t give us a hint.”
“We have just as much right to know!” proclaimed Genta in between bites of food. “We helped in finding them!”
Conan remained silent, mulling over what knew. True, at that moment, getting all the information that he could have had hadn’t been a priority, but he could still deduce a lot of things from what little he had been given.
And the biggest clue he had was—
“Here.”
The heavenly scent of coffee was the first thing that registered to his senses, then his eyes took in the cup of iced coffee that was gently placed down in front of him. It looked…perfect. Smelled it, too.
Conan regarded Amuro-san with sparkling eyes. The man smiled in response and winked at him, then he looked at the other children, “Why don’t you children pick your dessert? It’s on me.”
“Really?!”
“Yeah,” Amuro-san nodded. “I heard you deserve some form of reward.”
The three actual kids exchanged a brief look before cheering.
Conan blissfully sipped at his iced coffee, ignoring everything else.
Yeah, he knew it. It was that group.