Okay minna-san, here's the 411. This is my challenge to myself to write and complete a multi-chaptered story. So of course I'm not going to take it easy and try for three or five chapters. No, I'm gonna try for twenty-six. (Darn plot bunny that wants to play with the alphabet. I think I might be biting off more than I can chew. Wait a minute, what's this "think"? I know I'm biting off more than I can chew.) I warn you that I might not accomplish this goal in an short amount of time, so be prepared for waits. Please don't hurt me! And every chapter will center around a theme starting with a certain letter of the alphabet. But on the plus side, I have picked out the themes and have a few plots in mind, so the first few chapters should come out somewhat quickly.

Oh, and I think you'd best be prepared for humor. Lots and lots of humor. Kaito tends to bring out my outrageous and sarcastic side. And wish me luck please. I'll need it.

And unfortunately, I am not Japanese. Therefore, I cannot be a mangaka. Therefore, I could not have written Detective Conan. Therefore, I could not own the rights to Detective Conan. Therefore, I could not be making any money off of Detective Conan. Therefore, I can only annoy my readers with my use of therefores. Therefore, I think I'll stop before someone hurts me.

Letter: A

Theme: Accent

Summary: "Strange," Hakuba muttered to himself. "What are all these girls doing outside my house?"

"Strange," Hakuba muttered to himself. "What are all these girls doing outside my house?" Here it was nearing six o'clock in the evening, sunset fast approaching the Tokyo skyline, and a rather large conglomerate of females had gathered outside his residence. Merely twenty minutes ago it had been the typical gathering of fan girls, but now the numbers were encroaching more unruly mob measurements.

He couldn't be certain, but he was sure he recognized a few of those girls out in the crowd. That giddy girl on the left had more than a striking similarity to Keiko-san, and he could have sworn the blond in the front waving the British flag was the Suzuki heir. Then there was a young miss towards the back who seemed to be arguing fervently with...was that the son of Chief Inspector Hattori? And those amethyst tresses surrounded by a gaggle of male admirers – Koizumi-san? Next he'd see Mouri-san's daughter in the crowd, never mind the fact that she lived on the other side of the city.

...and there she was by the gates holding on to Edogawa-san's hand. Huh. That boy certainly didn't look happy to be standing there at this time of night. He appeared to be tugging on the girl's hand, trying to drag her away from his lawn; emphasis on the trying, but she was standing firm, if not a little annoyed at his persistence.

Hakuba could relate with the boy's aggravation. He certainly wouldn't want to be stuck in the middle of that fangirl flock. Which brought his initial question back to the forefront, What are all these girls doing here? It would be one thing if this was a Kid heist, but that pesky magician's next robbery isn't for another two weeks. But I shouldn't put it past Kuroba to send out heist notes only to the female populace. A subtle riffle of cards echoed in the background, breaking up his inner musings.

Ah, speak of the Devil and he shall appear. Turning around, Hakuba was greeted with the sight of one Kuroba Kaito, your everyday high school student, magician extraordinaire, or so Kuroba would have the world believe, and international criminal Kaitou Kid 1412, which he would prove one of these days goddammit, leaning against the door frame shuffling one of his many decks. No one knew how many decks Kuroba carried on him at all times, but the amounts Hakuba had witnessed were enough to give him a splitting migraine. The things Kuroba could do with cards...it didn't bear thinking about.

What Hakuba could bear thinking about, well, that was another matter. Like the matter of one particular magician's existence in his personal study, and the masses trampling his front yard. A sneaky suspicion twinkled in the back of his mind. Would he really...?

...Well, duh. This is Kuroba Kaito. He isn't known as the Terror of 3-B for nothing. But the question is, did he? Hmm. He does seem a bit too smug for my liking. And the timing couldn't be more than mere coincidence. Well Kuroba? Care to indulge my curiosity?

Schooling his features into a mask of cultured annoyance, Hakuba wearily addressed the other occupant in the room. "Kuroba, while in all honesty I should be upset at this blatant trespassing, and believe me, I am rather peeved at your utter disregard for private property, I am willing to forget your transgressions if you'll answer me one question. Did you do this?"

"What, the clothes?" Kaito smirked. "While I do admit to dying them a nice shade of vermilion, I'm afraid I am in no way responsible for your choice in tweed."

Looking down, Hakuba noticed the wardrobe malfunction. Deciding it was best not to ask when this occurred, Hakuba went on with his questioning. "No, I mean this," and here he waved his arms to encircle the ever increasing mass of estrogen outside.

Kaito looked out the window, apparently noticing the women for the first time. "Oh, the broads? Nope, not my doing," the magician cheekily replied.

"Then what are they doing outside on my front lawn?"

"You really don't know?"

Hakuba leveled Kaito with a withering stare. "If I knew why Kuroba, I wouldn't be asking you."

"Tantei-kun, it's the accent," Kaito replied like the answer should be obvious.


Kaito ogled Hakuba in a manner similar to a man beholding a new alien species. "You do realize you have a British accent, don't you?"

"Yes, I spent most of my life growing up in England. I should have an accent. But what does this have to do with anything?"

"Okay Tantei-kun, you're a detective correct? What is the major appeal to girls about foreign men?"

"…..They're foreign? How should I know? I may be a detective Kuroba, but I am no closer than any other male in deciphering the female intellect." Hakuba was getting increasingly frustrated with the magician. Could he please make his point already!

Sigh. "It's the accents. Girls love foreign accents, especially British ones. Why, I don't know. You might try asking them."

"But one thing doesn't make sense. Well actually, a lot of things about this situation don't make sense, but I've had this accent all my life. Why are these young ladies only noticing now?" It seemed an appropriate enough question.

"Apparently the author only realized this fact ten minutes ago."

Both men pondered that response. Then made an unspoken agreement not to think those words through to their natural conclusions. It would only lead to headaches neither one wished to endure. So instead, Hakuba posed a distraction.

"Okay then, why isn't Nakamori-san out in the crowd? If my accent makes me a 'chick magnet,' where is she?" Ha! Take that thief!

"Well," here Kaito smirked, "You may have the power of the accent, but I've got something much more enticing."

An air of foreboding settled amongst the bookshelves.

"Oh? And what's that?" Dare I ask...

Rather nonchalantly Kaito replied, "Fuzzy pink handcuffs and a leather whip."


Hakuba face-planted against the panes.

"You did ask."

I blame Love Actually. End of story. Watch it and you'll understand.