Just like that, another day passed for Class 1-B. Somehow, the tension that once lingered in the air—the heavy, suffocating atmosphere that had settled over the classroom—began to ease little by little.
The shift came mostly because of Genta and Mitsuhiko.
During their free time, they would constantly try to talk to the new kid. More often than not, it was the two of them chatting among themselves, throwing questions or random topics his way, while the boy in black simply listened in silence. He barely responded—and when he did, his replies came in English, leaving them unable to understand a single word.
Fortunately, the four-eyed glasses boy remained nearby, still cautious and observant of the strange transfer student. Acting as an unintentional translator, he would relay the boy's words into Japanese, bridging the gap between them. Because of that, the language barrier was somewhat resolved, allowing their interactions to flow, albeit awkwardly.
Then, the bell rang once more.
A clear signal that the school day had come to an end.
Kobayashi-sensei dismissed the class, her voice steady as she gave the final instructions. As she spoke, her gaze briefly shifted toward the transfer student.
Suzuki-san.
He had been quiet the entire day.
She had already been informed by the principal that he could understand simple Japanese but struggled to speak it fluently. At first, she had been concerned—worried that he might feel isolated or out of place because of it.
But it seemed her worries had been unnecessary.
She had noticed some of the children, particularly Genta and Mitsuhiko, making the effort to include him. And with the help of the sharp-minded glasses boy translating, things appeared to move along more smoothly than expected.
With that, the class was officially dismissed.
The other students quickly packed their belongings and began leaving the classroom one after another, their voices gradually fading into the hallway.
But Genta, Mitsuhiko, Ayumi, and the four-eyed boy didn't rush out.
They stayed.
Their attention remained on the new kid, watching as he slowly organized his things. His movements were deliberate, almost sluggish—especially when he handled his black flask, carefully placing it away.
Then Genta spoke up.
"Hey, Suzuki-san… wanna go home together?"
"Wait, Genta-kun," Mitsuhiko interrupted, "we don't even know where Suzuki-san lives."
"You're right…" Genta admitted, scratching his head.
He turned back to the boy in black.
"So, where do you live, Suzuki-san?"
The others waited, eyes fixed on him.
Then they heard that same hoarse, fragile voice once again.
"Hm… Beika Ward…."
"What—you're also from Beika Ward?" the four children exclaimed at once.
The new kid gave a small nod.
He rose from his seat, slinging his bag over his right shoulder. In his right hand, he firmly held the black flask.
"Okay… then let's walk home together!" Genta shouted enthusiastically.
"The more, the merrier," Mitsuhiko added, nodding in agreement.
"Okay, let's go," Ayumi said, smiling.
The four-eyed boy, however, fell into deep thought once again.
Beika Ward.
He began analyzing. Judging from the boy's surname alone, he had already formed a conclusion. It seemed his earlier suspicion—that this new kid might be connected to those two men in black—had been a mistake.
He had been observing him carefully since the moment he arrived.
The way he moved… slow, deliberate.
The way he dressed… completely covered in black.
And when he briefly lowered his mask—revealing that unnaturally pale skin.
Piece by piece, the four-eyed boy had already put it together. With the mind of an adult trapped inside a child's body, the logic came as easily as one plus one.
Because he wasn't just an ordinary child.
He was Shinichi Kudo—the renowned high school detective who had been drugged by two men in black, his body forcibly shrunk into that of a child.
Now, living under the alias Conan Edogawa, he navigated this new life with the intellect of a genius hidden beneath a child's appearance.
Conan let out a quiet breath.
His guard lowered, even if only slightly.
He felt conflicted.
Just yesterday, there had been a bombing incident on a train. He had suspected that the two men in black responsible were the same ones who had fed him the drug. And now… he had even gone as far as suspecting this new kid—simply because of the black clothing.
"Calm down…" he whispered under his breath.
One by one, they all stood from their chairs.
Genta took the lead, walking ahead with his usual energy. Ayumi and Conan followed behind him, while Mitsuhiko walked beside the new kid, matching his pace.
The boy in black moved slowly.
So slow that the rest of them had no choice but to adjust, easing their steps to keep up with him.
After a moment, Mitsuhiko spoke.
"I've been wanting to ask this… but why do you wear gloves and a face mask? Are you… perhaps sick, Suzuki-san?"
"Yeah, I was wondering about that too," Ayumi added, her curiosity evident as she glanced at him.
"Maybe he's afraid of the sun," Genta said, scratching his head, clearly puzzled.
Ayumi and Mitsuhiko burst into laughter at the absurd suggestion.
"Hahah, why would anyone be afraid of the sun?" Mitsuhiko said, struggling to hold back his laughter.
Then Conan's voice followed, calm and certain.
"Well, Genta is actually right. Suzuki-san really is afraid of the sun—or more accurately, he's sensitive to sunlight."
All three immediately turned their attention to him. Conan casually rested his hand behind his head as he spoke, his expression composed.
"Ha… how is that even possible? Afraid of the sun?" Ayumi asked, puzzled.
"Sō da, Ayumi is right," Mitsuhiko added, nodding in agreement.
Genta simply tilted his head, thinking hard.
Then Conan gave a small smile.
"Because Suzuki-san is one of the rare cases with albinism."
"A-albinism?" the three children repeated in unison.
"What's that?" Ayumi asked, curious.
"Is that a new dessert or something?" Genta added, his expression full of confusion.
"Wait a minute…" Mitsuhiko suddenly spoke, as if a realization struck him. "If I remember correctly, albinism is when someone has very pale, almost white skin, right?"
"That's right," Conan continued. "Suzuki-san wears black clothing to protect his skin from ultraviolet rays. Earlier, when he removed his face mask, you saw his pale skin—that's because his body has a biochemical inability to produce melanin, the natural pigment that gives skin its color. That's why his skin appears so pale."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"Dark clothing absorbs more heat and is more effective at blocking harmful ultraviolet (UV) rays. That's why he wears black—to protect himself. And that's also why Kobayashi-sensei allowed him to keep his cap in class earlier."
The children stared at Conan in amazement, clearly impressed by his deduction based purely on observation.
Then their attention shifted back to Suzuki.
He remained silent, simply listening to their conversation without saying anything.
Genta spoke up again.
"Hey, Suzuki-kun, is Conan right?"
They all waited for his response.
Slowly, Suzuki gave a small nod.
"So that's why…" Ayumi said softly.
"But wouldn't it be kind of sad… not being able to play in the sunlight?" Genta said, clenching his fist as he imagined himself in Suzuki's place.
"You're right… but it would be even worse if Suzuki-san gets exposed to UV light," Mitsuhiko added seriously.
"Then… doesn't that mean it's dangerous for him to walk home every day?" Ayumi asked.
The group nodded in understanding.
It truly would be dangerous.
They didn't know what might happen if Suzuki continued walking outside under the sun, but they understood that they needed to take precautions—after all, they had invited him.
Then, once again, they heard Suzuki's voice—hoarse and weak.
"D-Daijoubu… I have my umbrella here."
His Japanese remained broken and uneven, his pronunciation sloppy, but they could at least understand the first word clearly.
The rest remained somewhat unclear—but the meaning, at least, was partly understood.
The group watched as Suzuki opened his bag and carefully took out a folding umbrella. It was made of a deep, pure black fabric—completely dark, absorbing light rather than reflecting it.
With a soft press of a button on the handle, the umbrella snapped open in one smooth motion.
He raised it, using it to shield himself from the light, covering his upper body as he stood beneath it.
Mitsuhiko tilted his head. "Suzuki-san, is that really okay? Will that umbrella actually protect you from UV light?"
Before Suzuki could respond, Conan spoke.
"That's not an ordinary umbrella," Conan said calmly. "It's a specialized UV umbrella. Based on its appearance, it's designed specifically to block ultraviolet rays."
He adjusted his glasses slightly, continuing his analysis.
"Also, it's already past 4:00 PM. The sun isn't at its peak intensity anymore, so he should be safe."
"Oh, really? Then it's all good!" Genta said, laughing in relief.
The group of five children then walked along the streets of Beika Ward.
As they moved, Genta, Mitsuhiko, and Ayumi began handing out leaflets to people passing by.
Printed on the papers were the words:
"We'll solve any case at all – Detective Boys."
Ayumi held out a leaflet to a passerby while enthusiastically calling out, "We'll solve any problems!"
Genta followed suit, raising his arm high as he waved a leaflet in the air. "Leave it to us!"
Mitsuhiko also joined in, mimicking their actions with equal enthusiasm.
Meanwhile, Conan's mouth twitched slightly as he watched the three of them advertising their self-proclaimed group—something they had apparently just formed yesterday.
Genta noticed and shouted, "Hey, Conan! What are you doing? Stop loafing around and help!"
Conan looked away, deliberately avoiding eye contact.
"I'm a high school detective… Shinichi Kudo…" he muttered under his breath. "I'm not about to play children's games…"
As he spoke, his eyes shifted.
He glanced at the boy walking beside him.
Suzuki.
He stood tall—likely around Genta's height—but was noticeably slender. Because of the shade cast by his cap, Conan couldn't see his full face, not even his eyes. The brim obscured his features, hiding them completely.
Then, suddenly—
Suzuki turned his head to the right.
Conan followed his gaze.
And there, he saw three people conversing.
One of them—
Was his childhood friend. Ran!.
(っ－＿－)っ
AM N. NOT.
♤DRAFT ♤