Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Chained World: The Fall of the House of Kuno ❯ First Trap ( Chapter 54 )

This was originally published by me under the name Anduril at Anime Addventures, with the only changes being a few corrections in spelling, punctuation and the occasional word choice. If you like the beginning of my story but think I've gone off the rails, or have your own ideas for a great branch-off, or think I'm taking too long to update and want to continue the story yourself, come to Anime Addventures and join in the fun!

I claim no ownership rights to any of the works of Rumiko Takahashi, or anyone else's published work.

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Shinohara Asuma once again sat in his tent, this time staring at the upright screen of his notebook-sized tablet as the loop of the rising flame-lit cloud of the explosion that had obliterated the Cat Café reached its end and reset to the beginning — of the loop, not the explosion, not quite. Whoever had caught the explosion on camera from several blocks away hadn't been facing the café when it blew, but had reacted with lightning speed. Whoever that unnamed individual had been, he was going to be rolling in all the kaneitsuho he pulled in — the image had gone viral — and Asuma expected that news crews from all over Japan would be headed for the Nerima Lording. And they are likely to have a very different story than they expect, he thought grimly, remembering his subordinates' report of the tension in the lording.

“Everyone's ready,” one of those subordinates said from his tent entrance, and he looked up at the redheaded gamin figure of Noa. “You think Setsuna-kun is really going to call us in?”

“If ever there was a burning house ready to be looted, this is it,” Asuma replied with a slight shrug. “If she has any plan at all, she has to kick it off soon or there isn't going to be a lording left to maneuver in.”

Noa nodded, then stiffened and looked back over her shoulder at the sound of a distant car engine. Asuma quickly rose and strode over to join her at the tent entrance, and the two watched as a small car stopped beside the sentry at the gate opening into their encampment's field. A moment later, the sentry opened the gate and even as the car pulled through Asuma's communicator came to life. “Sir, Meioh-san is coming to speak with you.” Asuma's eyebrows rose — the tiny, cheap two-seater was a far cry from the limousine she'd been chauffeured about in the last time she'd visited — but when the car pulled to a stop in front of his tent it was indeed the emerald-haired businesswoman in the driver's seat. Noa hurried forward to open the door and help their temporary employer unfold herself out from behind the steering wheel.

Asuma bowed respectfully when Meioh-san finally stood before him. “A far cry from your last visit,” he said. “I imagine your bodyguards were less than happy to see you go in that.”

Setsuna glanced back over her shoulder at the car and chuckled. “Yes, well, driving around Nerima in a big, expensive rich lady's toy isn't a good idea, right now — they may not be able to get through the armor, but there's nothing to stop them from turning it over and setting it on fire. And can you imagine one of my guards in that dinky little thing? He'd be so scrunched up that he'd be completely helpless if someone did try to kill me.”

Asuma laughed briefly at the image her words brought to mind as he waved her toward his tent entrance, but instantly sobered when she shook her head, her face suddenly grim.

Setsuna glanced around the camp, nodding approvingly when she saw all the one-man tanks on their trucks. “You are aware of what just happened in Nerima?” she asked.

Asuma simply nodded, his face instantly blank.

Setsuna chuckled humorlessly at the sight. “Apparently, I don't need to tell you what's going to happen next. Relax, I'm not going to ask you to intervene in the inevitable rioting. However,” she added before he had a chance to relax, “a source of mine tells me that there's more to this than a simple uprising of outraged commoners — specifically, a large strike team of street samurai. Best guess, their employer foresaw just what's happening now and got them in place to take advantage of it. I know that this is outside your official jurisdiction, but would you be willing to perform your usual duties even as freelancers? I would cover all costs, of course — including any equipment expenditure and damage, medical costs, and death benefits if necessary.”

“I thought you hated the Kunos,” Asuma said neutrally.

Setsuna shrugged. “I hated the previous Lord Kuno. This one isn't evil, just insane in a way that makes him dangerous to a very limited number of people. Either way, it's beside the point — even with the way the Shadow War has been moving more and more into the light, there hasn't been a successful armed assault by one Family on another Family's home estate since before Tokugawa ended the Warring States period. Do you believe the Empire is better off if that changes?”

Asuma and Noa paled at the thought, and Asuma nodded, his face hardening. “Right. Noa-kun, tell everyone we're headed for Nerima, I'll be more specific when I know more. Setsuna, you're with me, you can fill me in as we go. And Noa,” he continued as his subordinate was turning away and reaching for her com unit, “I know you love our little tanks, but you're probably going to be going with the power gliders this time.” Noa grimaced but nodded her acknowledgment before hurrying away, and Asuma turned back to Setsuna. “Come, my Lady, your ride awaits.”

/oOo\

Captain Kasai stepped through the just-opened doors of Nerima Law Enforcement headquarters, nodding to the patrolmen guarding the doors. As they hastily closed and locked the doors again, sliding the steel shutters across them, he strode away for his office, his eyes glancing around the room at the various (not enough) patrolmen and officers checking the steel shutters with firing slits over windows, stripping down and cleaning various personal firearms (he resolved to order an apparently badly needed weapons check when the current mess was over), and a few — a very few — adjusting the fit of body armor they'd just put on. Morimasa hid a wince at just how few of the last there were, not that he was surprised. Riot suppression had always been a job assigned to Kuno Security after all, not Nerima Law Enforcement. Except for a single SWAT team, the expensive body armor and much of the weaponry his subordinates owned were privately purchased, often accompanied by good-natured ribbing from their friends about turning American. (Morimasa rather doubted there would be much of that in the future.) Though he hadn't actually said as much to anyone, he was well aware that, in spite of his and Goro's best efforts, it had been Captain Goto and his people that had managed to keep “Ranko's” auction from turning into a full-fledged riot instead of a little breakage around the edges, not Nerima Law Enforcement. Of course, then we were worried about a riot between the retainers of the various Families inside the auction grounds, rather than the spectators on the outside, he thought wryly. And of course, Lord Kuno couldn't believe that his “loyal people” could possibly see anything wrong with what he did. I wonder if he's changed his mind, yet? Not that it would do any good if he has, the way Kuno Security has been assigned elsewhere trying to stop Hibiki and the copycats.

Reaching the office he shared with his chief subordinate, Morimasa stepped in, closed the door, and promptly collapsed into one of the chairs in front of his desk and started to shake.

Itou Goro glanced up from his own desk off to the side, and grinned tightly. “So, Captain, did you have a pleasant walk?”

“Oh, absolutely, nothing like the constant threat of imminent death from literally everyone else on the street around you to spice up an otherwise boring stroll through nighttime Nerima,” Morimasa said dryly, then smiled as Goro chuckled. “So, what have you got for me?”

“Well, for a spontaneous uprising, it's remarkably well organized,” Goro replied, sobering. “Some are headed for the Cat Café, and people already there are digging through the rubble of the buildings around it. But it looks like most are gathering around four targets: the Kuno Family estate, of course, along with the auction center and the Lording offices. Fortunately, there isn't anyone but cleaning crews and a few security guards at the last two. Unfortunately, the same can't be said for the estate, and we aren't going to be able to do fuck-all about it because the fourth target is us.”

“What! ?” Morimasa was up out of his seat and looming over Goro, staring at his subordinate's monitor. Sure enough, the map of Nerima showed red dots of numerous presumed hostiles gathering in the field across from the slave center where there'd almost been the riot weeks earlier, and around the other three targets Goro had mentioned. And Goro had been right, it was definitely organized — not only were they gathering at the four targets before attacking, but they were also obviously weighted according to the level of resistance those targets were likely to put up. While the dots across from the slave center and around the government office building were thinly scattered, they were getting thick on the ground around the block completely filled by the station house along streets where they couldn't be observed by its defenders. And there were so many around the mansion that they were merging into an indistinguishable mass.

“What about our patrolmen I ordered to come here?” Morimasa asked. “Were any of them attacked?”

“No, none,” Goro replied. “And the ... mob? ... rioters? ... Neither seems to fit.”

“Just don't call them rebels, that has a specific legal definition with a very specific legal response.”

“Got it.” Goro shuddered. “The ... protesters had plenty of opportunities to attack patrolmen coming in, but none of them did. Still, when things got tight enough that there'd be no way for our men to escape if attacked I ordered the stragglers to stay out and join the ones keeping watch.”

“How about the station house?”

“Got it covered, here's our positions.” Goro quickly typed for a few seconds, and the map shrank as several new windows opened up with maps of the floors of the station house, blue dots for the people positioned at windows and doors.

Morimasa nodded, straightening. “Good call. Feed this to my computer. Are you feeding this to Lord Kuno's people?” Goro gave the captain a exaggeratedly offended look, and Morimasa chuckled. “Right, forget I asked.” Turning back to his desk, he sat down, brought up the same map he'd just been looking at on Goro's monitor, and hit the speed dial button for the Kuno mansion.

/oOo\

“Yes, Captain, you are unfortunately correct,” the Master of Servants said heavily to the image of the Chief of Law Enforcement showing in an open window on his monitor even as he kept half his attention on the second monitor repeating the Nerima map being fed from the station house. “I've spoken with Takeuchi-san, and he won't be able to have sizable numbers of Kuno Security back in Nerima for at least half a day. That won't be a problem for the estate, not with the booby traps our previous lord ordered emplaced, and the servants should be able to deal with any that manage to make it through, but we won't be able to do anything for the rest of the lording. How about you, can you hold?”

“It depends on what they bring to the party,” Captain Kasai replied, “But —” He broke off as his eyes flicked to the side away from the camera, and when he refocused on Pyo-sensei his face had gone grim. “It looks like we're about to find out.”

Pyo-sensei nodded his agreement, his own gaze shifting between the captain and the map where the dots around the station house were suddenly in motion toward the building in the center. “Agreed. See to your people, Captain, I'll see to the mansion.” He disconnected even as Captain Kasai was acknowledging the unnecessary order, and hit a speed dial button. Within less than a minute a fresh window opened with the image of Lord Kuno. “My Lord, I am sorry to report that we have an emergency...”

/oOo\

Even as the Master of Servant's image vanished from his monitor, Morimasa hit the intercom. “They're on their way,” he said as calmly as he could manage. “Everyone who doesn't have a window grab one, but don't fire until they're crossing the street and you can't miss.” Then he was up and striding out of his office into the larger main room, drawing his own pistol. Even as he stepped into the room the last of his men were finding windows, and he waited for the shots that would tell him that the attack was rolling in ... and waited ... and waited...

Finally, he stepped to a nearby desk and used its computer to call Goro. “What's happening?” he asked, voice strained with the effort to keep its tone even.

“Nothing, Captain,” his bewildered subordinate answered.

“Nothing ? !”

“Nothing. Here's the outside cameras.” Goro's image vanished as the screen split into eight windows, and Morimasa knew he was gaping as each showed solid masses of men and some women filling the streets feeding into the circle around the headquarters, most carrying staves and almost completely silent, simply standing in place. “I don't understand ... what are they waiting for?” a bewildered-sounding Goro asked.

“I don't — oh.” Morimasa stared at the monitor for a long moment, then dropped into the seat and laid his pistol on the desk. “Goro, get on the intercom, tell everyone that I'm ordering them to hold their fire so long as those people stay where they are.”

A moment later he heard the intercom announced his orders, then Goro's voice again came from his computer. “Captain, what's going on?”

Morimasa sighed, slumping back in his appropriated chair and rubbing at his face as he stared at the silent outside camera feeds. “Goro, those people aren't there to take us down, they're there to keep us here — where we can either sit back and watch the show, or get ourselves killed trying to break out and go charging to the rescue.” And my order to have our people gather here just put more of us in the trap.

There was a long moment of silence from his second in command, until Goro finally asked, “So what do we do?”

“Sit back and watch the show, what else can we do? We don't have armored vehicles or serious anti-personnel weapons, that was Security's job.”

“Wonderful. Do you have any pop — too late, the show's started.”

The outside camera feeds vanished from Morimasa's screen to be replaced again by the Nerima map, and Morimasa tensed as he watched the red dots of the “protesters” flow across the street toward the slave center while the ones around the government offices converged from all directions.