Disclaimer: Ranma ½ belongs to Rumiko Takahashi and Viz Video. Feng Shui (the RPG) belongs to Atlas Games. Some OOC may be anticipated due to post-traumatic stress. Some SI will occur as well. Beware of exploding Jammers. Some alteration of original source material is inevitable. Purists have been warned. Do not bother the Uberkid. She's vicious.

Blowing Up Nerima

A Feng Shui RPG/Ranma ½ Crossover from the MadPanda

Phase One: Mustang in the Crosshairs

Saotome Ranma was having a very, very bad day. Maybe it was simply because this was Monday. Maybe it was the five-way brawl that met him at Furinkan High's embattled gates, courtesy of both Kunos, a P-chan in human form, Mousse, and that Pantyhose Taro guy. Perhaps it was the pleasant experience of being arbitrarily drained by Hiniko-sensei for tardiness even though he made it into his seat a few seconds ahead of the bell. And just possibly it was finding out that he had left his bento behind in the panicked rush to school this morning, which left him facing Akane's attempts at cooking in lieu of an actual lunch. Any and all of these were perfectly valid reasons to beg the Powers That Were for a chance to perform a cosmic three-fingered allure. Yet somehow Ranma managed to find a new and even more pressing reason to cancel the rest of the day.

Someone was trying to kill him.

By itself this was not so unusual. Someone was usually trying their level best to fold, spindle, mutilate, smite, seriously inconvenience, or just plain beat him silly. From Ryoga's oft-bellowed 'Die, Ranma!' to the 'Foul Sorcerer' of Kuno Tatewaki, Age Seventeen, to the easily survivable 'Ranma no baka!' of his unwilling fiancée; all of these were accepted and even normal events in his day to day passage through the school of harder knocks. This, though...

There had been no sneering, no insults, no challenge letter, no bellowed list of complaints real and imagined, and no warning. One moment he had been idly watching this innocent and harmless little red light playing across the sidewalk just in front of his feet. He sneezed suddenly, and heard something scream past his head...and by the time the second and third bullets cratered the concrete, he was diving for the hopefully bulletproof cover of a nice, thick vehicle barrier.

He figured out what was happening almost at once—he'd seen action movies often enough to know the equation of 'little red dot plus bullets equals targeting system plus gun'. Two rounds impacted against the barrier within seconds of each other. That was a bad sign. He didn't know whether he could dodge bullets. He didn't want to find out the hard way, either...Genma had never trained him for this situation, and those slugs were tearing fist-sized holes in the sidewalk! What they would do to a human body wasn't something Ranma wanted to dwell on too much.

Sirens in the distance...had someone alerted the police? Even so, could they handle it? Even if they could handle it, would they get here in time?

Another round hit the barrier. This time, Ranma felt slivers of flying debris nick his arm. Oh, damn...maybe moving would be a wise tactical decision?

Testing his luck, he leapt forth, sprinting for the next hoped-for sanctuary out of the line of fire: another barrier some fifty meters away. Dodging, weaving, and occasionally bouncing off the walls he went, followed all the way by little craters in the street. He made it...barely. As he lay panting nervously in the shadow of his new shelter, he saw three new pockmarks appear, almost in front of his face. It was almost as if the shooter wanted to play with him, to tease him.

Two more craters appeared, several feet apart...at the same time.

He realized with horror that there were probably two snipers, not one. Who wanted him dead this badly? Wait: silly question. Who wanted him dead this badly and was willing and able to put up enough money to pay someone to do this?

Any one of the Kuno family could, but only Tatewaki wanted him dead, and the Blue Blunder would want to handle things personally, at sword point. Nabiki? But she had other ways of getting back at him, and he was pretty sure he hadn't pissed her off recently. Ryoga would do it personally, like Kuno. And that Gosunkugi kid would try something magical instead.

Nobody else came to mind, mostly because a new hail of shots smacked the far wall next to the street and peppered him with more loose fragments of masonry and stonework.

A police helicopter passed by close overhead. As it moved over toward the snipers' probable position, Ranma heard pinging noises coming from it...and then the dreadful noise of the engine doing something very wrong, and he knew that someone had just murdered a cop or two to get at him! As the chopper careened in for a hard, final landing, he made a silent promise to avenge the fallen. Bad enough that his rivals tended to pay little attention to bystanders. This was insane...almost an act of pure terrorism instead of a mere murder.

He used the crash anyway, sprinting for what he hoped beyond hope would prove to be a blind corner that would allow him to hide from this new, gut-loosening horror. Just as he got around the corner, he saw a flash of light sharpening his silhouette against the buildings, heard a horrible whooshing noise, and felt the hand of an invisible giant pushing him a little further along. The helicopter's fuel tank had exploded. Numb and a little sick with fear, Ranma sank to his haunches, his back against the wall, and waited.

There were no further gunshots. Slowly, cautiously, Ranma slipped away from the scene and ran back to the Tendo home, taking every precaution he could devise to avoid bringing the danger along with him.

The house and dojo were both dark by the time he made it there—evasive action had delayed him for a few hours. Apparently everybody had decided that he would come home when he was ready, and that was that. So unfair...but it was a nice change from the usual blamefest he had anticipated. He slid in through the kitchen door as quietly as he could, hoping that this time he wouldn't wake anyone up...

"Welcome home, Ranma-kun. You missed dinner." The maternal and oh-so-concerned voice of Tendo Kasumi came to him out of the darkness.

"Yiii...uh, yeah, sorry, Kasumi-chan. I...kinda had a bad day."

"Would you like to talk about it?" The gentle concern in her voice, so motherly...so caring...he could feel the tears struggling to break past his self-discipline.

"Naww, nothin' I can't handle."

"Well, if you ever change your mind, I'd love to hear about your adventuresome afternoon. Akane was quite upset that you did not come home earlier..."

"Yeah, well, me too. It wasn't what she thinks." It never is, he added silently, and Kasumi giggled.

"She is a sweet girl, Ranma-kun. She really is. Even though she is often temperamental and prone to violence. Here, I made sure we had leftovers from dinner for you."

"Thanks, Kasumi-ne-chan."

"Don't mention it."

He ate his cold dinner, thanked her profusely, and slipped away to his room. Genma-panda snored away, sprawled across both futons in the most undignified manner. With some effort, Ranma recovered his bedding and curled up in the corner. Sleep, he said to himself. I'll just sleep on it, and everything will be better in the morning.

Sleep did not come easily. He kept hearing the bullets smacking the cement, tearing into the helicopter engine...that awful scream of dying machinery followed by the fuel tank going up...and when slumber finally claimed him, his dreams were awful, bloody nightmares filled with terror, fire, and darkness. He rose before even his lazy fat fool father the next morning and went downstairs to find Kasumi already about her daily routine.

"K...Kasumi?"

"Yes, Ranma-kun?"

"I think...I need to go on a training trip for a little while. So, uhm, could you...y'know, interference for me?"

"That's not very proper, Ranma-kun! Father will be upset. Akane will be upset, too."

"Yeah, I know, but...I bring enough trouble to this house. I wanna get away from you before this one hits."

Kasumi stopped her cooking and turned to him, placing both her hands on his shoulders.

"Whatever it is, Ranma-kun, it is not your fault. We will get through this. Now, if you have the courage to stay, I am sure we can work something out. Promise me you won't go off on your own like that unless we've already tried other means?"

"But I..."

"Promise me, Ranma-kun!"

That did it. Who could refuse Kasumi? "Oh...kay, I promise. But...this one's bad, Kasumi! I don't think we can just talk it out. They were..."

"Yes?"

"Nothin'. It ain't important." How could he describe the fear, the intense panic, the overwhelming helplessness he'd felt? Or even the very idea of someone trying to shoot him down? So long as there was nothing he could do to stop it, there was no point in panicking sweet, gentle, innocent Kasumi.

"Pervert! Stop molesting Kasumi!"

"Not again, please..."

Akane smacked him dead on with her mallet, not even waiting for him to utter his usual futile protestations of innocence. Kasumi scolded her for it, of course. But for a change, the mallet wasn't such a big thing. Next to bullets from the blue, it was at least familiar. Ranma didn't complain.

Breakfast was more tense than usual. Ranma just wasn't reacting to the usual jibes from Nabiki, or the whining complaints from Soun. Akane's righteous indignation bypassed him utterly. Even Genma's bellowing didn't faze him. Naturally, the less he reacted the more they pushed. Finally he just excused himself quietly and went to his room to prepare for school. Let them bicker, he thought. They seem happier that way.

The walk to school was pure torture. All he could see were the many places where someone with a high-powered rifle could lie in wait for him. He could feel the crosshairs centering on the back of his neck, expecting that at any second his life would be ended, cursing the knowledge that he would never know who did it or why. Thus distracted, he missed Shampoo's usual attempt to talk him into skipping school, Akane's temper tantrum, the little old ladle lady's daily triggering of his curse. He even managed to ignore Kuno, crossing the school-yard in a sudden, zig-zagging run to throw off any snipers. Reaching his homeroom, he chose to huddle against the far corner of the wall just under the windows—his usual seat was beautifully centered in full view of the many buildings easily visible in the near distance! No way was he sitting there! It was dangerous—a guy could get shot. Instead he sat in the corner, fidgeted, and failed to sleep through any of his classes.

It was this last thing that caught everyone's attention. The rumor mill, given a healthy kick in the chops by Akane's refusal to discuss whatever might be bugging that perverted jerk fiancé of hers, concluded that the stress had finally pushed the pigtailed misfit over the edge. He'd snapped, they whispered. His mind had gone. He was now officially a pair of jokers shy of a full deck. And Ranma, had he been let in on the jest, would have agreed immediately. The stress was indeed breaking him...breaking him out of complacency, at any rate. Nothing like a good case of real fear to shake you out of a self-congratulatory sense of your own superiority, he would have said. But they didn't ask, and so Ranma continued his temporary descent into situational over-awareness without comment.

It was probably just dumb luck that nobody had the poor timing to actually attempt an ambush that day. If that had happened...Furinkan High might have found out what Saffron knew all too well about a Saotome unleashed in his fury.

The walk home was as fun and relaxed as the walk to school had been. The only difference was that Ranma hadn't bothered changing back to boy mode, and so felt a little bit more secure. There was a chance that whoever was trying to kill him didn't know about his girl side...a hope that maintained him as far as the Tendo's gate and right into the house, where Kasumi waited, a serene smile on her face and an after-school snack waiting on a tray, waiting for him.

"How was your day, Ranma-kun?"

"Coulda been worse. I've kinda been on edge all day, ya know?"

"I remember."

"I promised ya, so I'm not goin' off alone, but...this is really serious, Kasumi-chan! I'm almost ready ta call off th' engagement, just for a bit, just until..."

"You promised, Ranma-kun." Kasumi's voice, just for a second, was flint-hard, frigidly cold. "You do not want to go back on a promise, do you?"

"I ain't Pops!"

"That's that, then." She smiled sweetly. "It is nice that you care enough to consider doing such a thing, but a promise is a promise."

He sagged in defeat. Didn't she understand that he couldn't protect her from this? If he drew the attention of those murdering cowards to this home...

"I'm home!" Akane shouted from the front door, slamming it. "Where's that jerk? I want to talk to him!"

"Did something happen today, Ranma-kun?"

"Naw, nothin' happened. That's kinda the problem. I was...expectin' trouble all day, and now some of the others think I'm losin' my mind."

"And Akane-chan caught the brunt of it. I see. Wait here."

Kasumi left him alone in the kitchen and went to run interference. He heard her greet Akane pleasantly, ask how her day went...

The world rocked wildly. The kitchen windows exploded, spraying splinters and glass everywhere. A second later, pieces of rock from the wall around the house landed as well, punching holes in the wall. Kasumi and Akane cried out in fright or pain. And he...

The pain was incredible, though mercifully brief. If he had to put words to it, it was like the marrow in his bones had been set ablaze and then someone just ripped it out in one sudden, violent jerk. It left him weak and disoriented for a few crucial seconds. More importantly, it left him on the floor.

The buzzsaw sound of a mini-gun firing assaulted his ears, followed a few seconds later by the crashing timber of a collapsing dojo. Several stray shots shattered the remaining windows, chewed up the walls, and pinged off Kasumi's new pots and pans in the cabinets over the stove.

"Take that, you cheaters!"

Not a human voice, not with those peculiar harmonics...electronic? Robotic? And it came from the yard, probably by the dojo. Ranma crawled for the door, mindful of the debris littering the area. Peeking around the door, he saw something that made him wish that a bullet had hit him instead.

It was ugly, maybe three meters tall, and looked like some nightmare cross between a gorilla and, say, Robocop. It also had a mini-gun bolted to one arm, which it used to hose down the area.

"Yeah! Burn, baby, burn! Burn this outta sight site, down to the ground, yeah..."

Akane lay bleeding in front of the machine-ape-thing, her body over Kasumi's...attempting in vain to protect her beloved older sister from the intruder. She spat defiance at the creature.

"Demon scum!"

"My, my, hey, hey, this one's still alive! Hello, little piece! You got spice, a little kick to your mojo. Too bad! Cheaters gotta die sometime!"

The last action it would ever perform was pointing that huge chain gun at the two Tendo girls. Ranma slammed into it, unleashing the Tenchin Amakiguriken at the black, furry, primate face. It went down immediately, Ranma riding its mechanical corpus, and pounding his fists again and again and again...

Ten minutes later, when someone hauled him off of the battered and pulped body of what had been a monster, he was still sobbing out curses. The yard was a mess. The house was badly damaged, with most of the ground floor heavily shot up. The dojo...lost behind sheets of flame. The compound walls had been breached.

"What...was that thing?" Ranma croaked out. His rescuers patted him gently on the shoulder and threw a heavy blanket around him. "What...why here? Why now? What did they want?"

"You, probably," one of his saviors commented dryly—a tall gaijin man in dark clothing, almost but not quite a ninja's outfit. "Try to relax, kid. More help is on the way."

"The others...?"

"My partner's having a look at them now. And here she comes with the verdict. Yo, Chen! How're they doin'?"

The short, stocky tomboy approaching them adjusted her mirror-shade sunglasses and smirked. Ranma caught a flash of neon green kanji under her black leather biker's jacket. There was something irritatingly familiar about her...

"They'll live. Looks like Battlechimp's boys just wanted to burn the site. How about him?"

"He's okay." The man looked down at Ranma. "You are okay, right?"

"Yeah...yeah, I'm fine..."

"Good. Cuff him," said the woman, holding up a police badge on a lanyard. "Saotome Ranma, you are under arrest for the murder of one Saffron, Immortal. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say..."

End Phase One.

Phase Two Loading.

Author's Debriefing:

This is not the first time I've tried to write a cross-over between Ranma and Feng Shui (the RPG of Hong Kong Action movies, not geomancy). It is, however, the first such attempt that didn't get way too silly within the first two pages.

For the amusement of my regular gaming group, some of the player characters from our brief round-robin stint of Feng Shui play may be appearing from time to time. Credit for these guest appearances will be given where appropriate.

Yes, the title of this fic is an intentional play on 'Blowing Up Hong Kong' which is both a chapter in the Feng Shui rulebook and an upcoming sourcebook. It seemed appropriate at the time...but may change at some point in the future.

So far as I know, Japanese police do not have to advise a suspect of their rights at the time of arrest...