WARNING ROUGH DRAFT AHEAD!!!!!!!!

Ok this is still rough, but I need a little help with it, so suggestions are begged for. Some of you might remember my 2010 Arc that started with Ranma 1/2. The First two books were Haven and Vision Quest.

It was only the begining.

Skip forward about a decade for one huge freaking crossover. Each book can stand alone but should be fun to read. I started this set, but with 9-11, I decided to hold off for a bit and re-think a few options for the plot.

So far, here is what I have planned:

Book I: Running Down a Dream.
Anime: Initial D, Eroica Cameos
Pairings: You'll see!

Book II: Thunder Rolls
Anime: Ranma 1/2, Lum, mention of Maison Ikoku
Pairings: Ataru x Lum, Kuno x Ranma, Kodachi x Nabiki
Gratuitous Dr. Mercy Sightings!

Book III: Smooth Criminal
Anime: Eroica, mention of various others
Pairings: Mwehehehee I am so freakin eeeevil

Book IV: This is How You Remind Me
Anime: Kizuna
Pairings: Masa x Kai, Enjouji x Ranmaru
Gratuitous Dr. Mercy Sightings!

Book V: Danger Zone
Anime: All previously mentioned
Pairings: See Above
A wrap up of the series.

The basic plot is this: Japan and China are invaded in what will be known as the Sakura Massacre. Pockets of resistance spring up as those outside the blockade strive to aid those caught within.

In a world gone mad, who do you trust?

Here is the Prolog and a teaser for Book I 'Running Down a Dream' Disclaimers: Ranma ½ and the characters therein belong to the ever talented Rumiko Takahashi as does the Ataru and Lum. West Coast Choppers is the property of Jesse James, as is his trademark motorcycle, the El Diablo. NightWolf Inc, Team Omega, and the rest are mine. Blood from turnip, you know the drill.

2010
Syx Maxwell
6/01

INTRODUCTION:

They called it Thunder Way. The eight mile paved expanse that lay like a flat smooth river of concrete and asphalt. The really nice thing about it was simple. Private driveways have no speed limits.

“YEEEEAAAAHHHH!” The leather clad figure straddled the racing bike as the machine and roared down the drive like a bat out of hell. The machine was coal black, with a stylized wolf and horse on either side of the fuel tank. The same image was repeated on the helmet.

Racing neck in neck with the other rider was a sleek form in burgundy and black. That rider blazed down the strip on a purple El Diablo bike with a black rose pattern repeated on the fenders, tank, and Helmet. A long black ponytail whipped in the wind as they tore past empty pastures and pulled to a halt outside of a huge old fashioned barn.

“Nice ride Dachi.”

“Thanks Ranma. Nabiki hates it when I go fast...”

“Tatchi has the same reaction.”

“He all but flies in his Charger!”

“He figures the more steel between him and the pavement the better.”

“Aa, well shall we see what the others are up to?”

“May as well. Momma Aria said if I tracked up the house one more time today she’d, and I quote, ‘Beat my butt ‘til my nose bleeds’.”

Kodachi Kuno, the Black Rose of Saint Herberke and terror of the gymnastics world, laughed in delight and followed her employer and friend inside the weathered looking building. Once inside however the scene changed dramatically. Where one would expect stalls, livestock, and hay there was only gleaming halogen lights, ceramic tiles and state of the art technology.

Racks of ancient weapons and swords stood next to cutting edge body armor.

Television monitors kept track of events the world over. A heavy steel door guarded a cache of modern if not always conventional weapons. The two motorcycles were wheeled past all this and onto a lift that would deliver them to the underground bunker that housed the vehicles and high explosive ordinance.

This was the home that a handful of outcasts had forged for themselves. This was the place where warriors who still chose to live by their honor and courage found refuge. This was the home base of one of the best team of martial artists and hellraisers that Japan ever produced. This was the headquarters of NightWolf Inc.

JAPAN LATER THAT WEEK:

A day that would live in infamy. It would be known for generations as the Sakura Massacre. The invaders came in under radar and had weapons that the conventional forces could not compete with. Pockets of resistance popped up almost instantly as the top fighters in Japan and those with money took up arms to fight back. With China and Japan already fallen the world looked for heroes.

Word traveled quickly, reaching a remote installation that hugged the boarder of an Apache reservation. The handful of warriors inside watched in horror as footage of the burned out hulk of Tomobiki and Furikan High rolled. As the number of casualties climbed the warriors of NightWolf Inc prepared for the fight of their lives.

Half a world away in the outback of Australia another group of warriors readied for battle. They were outlaws and rebels, but they chose to defend the innocent from those that would terrorize them. They keyed into secure line until they reached a warehouse tucked into a Harbor in Japan.

Within Japan itself one warrior was valiantly trying to coordinate the pockets of resistance. Her home was a weapons store that she had created after her banishment from her clan. She was a trained ninja and mercenary.

She knew that if the enemy continued to hold Japan and China, the world would remain in danger. Not even the Americas could withstand such devastation. There was only one course left. She relayed information to those in a position to aid her in battle.

There are few certain things in life. Taxes and Death are the two most prominent. The other is one very simple fact. Wherever there is darkness, there will be those to fight it. Each generation has its heroes and legends. Those men and women who rise to the call and fight, be it in the classroom, the hospital, the floor of congress, or the battlefield. This generation would come to know the names of the teams and the warriors aided them.

BOOK ONE:
RUNNING DOWN A DREAM
‘Initial D and Eroica’

The scene Keisuke came home to was now a familiar one. His older brother Ryusuke was stretched out on the couch with Fujiwara Takumi curled up in his lap. The younger driver was fast asleep in the elder Takahashi’s arms.

“How was your run?”

“No problems Aniki. Nakazato-kun and I delivered the plans right on time.”

“Good, Takumi-kun and I will make tonight’s run.”

“Is he up to it?” The wild haired youth murmured. He might hate the fact that the boy sleeping so soundly had, time and again, defeated him in races…

But that really didn’t matter now.

“He’ll be fine Kei-kun. Have Kenta top off the 86’s tank.”

“Okay. How long will he sleep?”

“Until it’s time to eat, he needs the rest.”

As the driver of the yellow FD moved off to finish the task set to him by his older brother, Ryusuke reflected on just how fast things had changed in the wake of the invasion.

FLASHBACK:

When it came, they had no warning. No one was prepared. And when it was over, thousands lay dead. Those that survived were cut off form the outside world. They emerged slowly from the wreckage of their lived to wander about in a daze.

The Takahashi brothers were alive, but alone as their parents and kid sister were on the other side of the ocean when the attack began. There was no way they would be able to get past the blockades and back to Japan any time soon. The young street racers left their family compound to survey the damage and search for survivors among those they knew.

The streets were silent save for the sound of crackling fires that consumed the remains of those unlucky enough to be caught in the initial onslaught. Vehicles and buildings burned and smouldered in the morning light. The brothers were quiet over their radios as they neared the Akina area.

“Aniki! Over there!”

Ryusuke stopped his white FC next to the yellow FD and eased out of the low slung car. Before them stood the burned out hulk of what was once a small tofu shop. A familiar tofu shop.

Both racers hurried over to the bloody but recognizable youth. He sat on the sidewalk, rocking a lifeless body in his arms.

“Takumi-kun…”

“Aniki.”

The black haired racer looked up and winced. His blond brother was kneeling next to the shattered body of Takumi’s best friend. It was obvious the Itsuke never knew what hit him.

“Oh Kami-sama. Kei-kun they killed them both. Help me with Takumi, we need to get him out of here.”

They tried to get the grief-stricken teen to focus, but he ignored him. In his fog of pain and desolation all the mattered was the now cold body of the girl he had loved. Slowly though, the smooth voice of the White Comet of Akagi broke through. He was drawn from his fuge long enough to be wrapped in a warm jacket and bundled into the waiting car.

They made the drive quickly, but with caution. They did not want to attract the attention of hostile individuals. Both Takahashi’s breathed a sigh of relief when they reached their home. Both cars were parked in the garage and locked up before they retreated to the house itself.

It was there that they received yet another shock as Takumi passed out cold.

The teen was bleeding heavily from a bullet in his shoulder. Ryusuke would thank every deity he believed in for his choice in medical schools. He knew enough to set his brother for supplies while he prepared to remove the projectile from the hachi-roku driver’s body.

Three hours later a very tired Ryusuke tied off the last of the stitches and finished mopping the blood from the other boy. His brother bundled the other boy in blanket to ward off shock. They collapsed on the couch to begin their vigil over their ‘house guest’.

It was then that The Plan was created. They were the best street racers in Japan. Their home was invaded, they had to fight back. They would become couriers for the rebels. They would avenge their fallen. And no one would get in their way.

Three days later Ryusuke entered the guest room, a tea tray held in his hands.

“Takumi-kun, you need to eat.”

Dull eyes the color of fine sherry glanced at him before returning to gaze blindly out the window. It was the only answer the listless Akina racer gave. He’d not eaten in days and the older driver was growing worried.

“Takumi-kun…”

“They’re gone… It’s all gone.”

Ryusuke set the tray down and hurried to the side of the bed. He made what he later decided was the best decision he’s had in year. He drew the thin form of Takumi Fujiwara into his arms and held on tight. The boy tucked his head under the chin of his captor and shivered.

“Let it go Takumi. You are safe.”

The dam broke. Takumi sobbed brokenly, his injured body wracked with the force of his grief. Slender fingers tangled in Ryusuke’s sweater.

“Tell me what happened Taku-kun.”

“We… There was no warning. Mogi-chan and Itsuke stopped by. We were going to go for a drive… There was gunfire. Dad was still in the shop…” He broke off to gasp and struggle for control.

“I tried to protect Mogi… They shot me. One of them threw something into the shop. It blew up… Mogi screamed and … And they killed her too!” Takumi whimpered as Ryusuke rubbed his back and crooned to him.

“Why did this happen?”

“I don’t know Taku-kun. Listen to me. I want you to stay here with Kei-kun and I.”

Takumi nodded against Ryusuke’s chest. He had needed this release, but now he felt hollowed out and empty. He was aware of eating the thick soup. He yawned as warm blankets were drawn over his shoulders and tucked in.

He was already asleep when Ryusuke softly shut the door behind him. He blinked as his brother stood before before him with worried eyes.

“Aniki… How is he?”

“Lost. His father is gone as well.”

“K’So. Now what?”

“We get ready. This cannot be allowed to stand Kei-kun. Gather the others.”

“Aniki?”

“I’ve heard rumors about rebels here in Japan.”

“What is your plan?”

“Offer our skills as drivers. We can smuggle medicine, food, and weapons, as well as information.”

“You’ve thought hard on this.”

“Hai. Contact the other teams. It’s time to fight back.”

That night the Takahashi Compound held it’s first War Council. The surviving members of the Speedstars, Night Kids, Redsuns, and the Blue Impact Combo gathered in the den. All wore colors of mourning.

The plan was straight forward. Were they willing to put their lives on the line to help the rebels?”

Itkane looked at his team and stood and swallowed, “We’re in.”

As one the other drivers stood as well vowing their support.

Kenji sighed, “I wish Takumi-kun was here.”

“He is?”

“What? We thought he’d been killed!”

“It was a near thing. Mogi and Itsuke are gone. He was shot.”

“Will he be okay?”

“He is recovering.”

TBC

Syx