Rec: Talking to Strangers (Detective Conan/Ayasuri Sakon)
Story: Talking to Strangers
Author: Ysabet
Fandom: Ayasuri Sakon/Detective Conan
Genre: Crossover
Pairing/Character: Conan and Sakon
Summary: Careful of found items; they just may start talking to you.
Squeeing: I read this fic twice, once before I'd seen Ayasuri Sakon and once after. It works both ways, and serves as a good "hook" for Ayasuri Sakon fandom since there's so little of it.
The basic plot of Conan meeting Sakon is pretty funny, since both series have similar themes (murder mysteries). Conan's reactions are absolutely perfect, and I found this enjoyable because I like watching him twitch.
Excerpt: The not-really-a-little-kid in the green Tokyo Spirits jacket tried not to glance sideways at the source of the voice without success; he could still see the rather ornate lacquered box that shared his seat on the subway train out of the corner of his eye. It was far too small to contain a human being unless they were maybe four or five years old and willing to be folded up like an origami crane. Of course, went the detective part of his brain, if you chopped them up with an axe, cleaver, hacksaw or other sharp implement, you could fit a body in there… but then again, they wouldn’t be much inclined to talking afterwards, would they?
Author: Ysabet
Fandom: Ayasuri Sakon/Detective Conan
Genre: Crossover
Pairing/Character: Conan and Sakon
Summary: Careful of found items; they just may start talking to you.
Squeeing: I read this fic twice, once before I'd seen Ayasuri Sakon and once after. It works both ways, and serves as a good "hook" for Ayasuri Sakon fandom since there's so little of it.
The basic plot of Conan meeting Sakon is pretty funny, since both series have similar themes (murder mysteries). Conan's reactions are absolutely perfect, and I found this enjoyable because I like watching him twitch.
Excerpt: The not-really-a-little-kid in the green Tokyo Spirits jacket tried not to glance sideways at the source of the voice without success; he could still see the rather ornate lacquered box that shared his seat on the subway train out of the corner of his eye. It was far too small to contain a human being unless they were maybe four or five years old and willing to be folded up like an origami crane. Of course, went the detective part of his brain, if you chopped them up with an axe, cleaver, hacksaw or other sharp implement, you could fit a body in there… but then again, they wouldn’t be much inclined to talking afterwards, would they?