The group bickered noisily, mostly Sonoko and Momiji.
They had to argue over literally anything.
Yet Fujino didn't feel like the two of them were genuinely angry while bickering; instead, were they gradually growing closer through all this arguing?
Come to think of it, Yoko Okino and Yuko Ikezawa were like this too...
Could this perhaps be the trope where opponents suddenly get all passionate the more they fight?
Fujino didn't quite understand this trope, but he still understood some of it.
It was just like him and that group of good bros.
The more they messed with their good bros, the more solid the relationships between those good bros became.
Conan, Old Horse, Heiji, and Heiyu were like this.
Fujino thought to himself inwardly, looking at the occasionally bickering pair, and actually felt that this wasn't bad at all.
After all, a bunch of young people were out on a trip, and if everyone hung their faces down in gloom, there wouldn't be any adolescent vitality left.
The sky gradually grew dark, and hundreds of lights flickered to life across the village.
Inside the minshuku's living room, the group sat around a small pot that protruded from the floorboards.
Mr. Gen, the owner, lit the small pot, while his wife, Kimiko, brought out fresh ingredients for everyone from the kitchen refrigerator.
"Well, this really feels like ancient times!"
The group sat around the floor next to the small pot, and Suzuki Sonoko waved a river fish she had skewered on a bamboo stick, looking lively and excited.
Mori Ran seemed a bit more demure, holding a bowl of miso soup and taking a light sip. "Miso soup brewed in an old pot like this really has a special flavor, right, Conan?"
"Mm-mm-mm!"
Conan, at the side, chimed in