Disclaimer: I own a WHOLE LOT OF NOTHING.

Author's Note: In my defense, I tried really, really hard to beat this idea out of my head. But dammit, it refused to go anywhere until I wrote it up. (And I am so, so sorry…)

Warning: Crossovers like WOAH. This contains cruel and unusual humor that aims to poke fun at the following series— Pokémon, Fruits Basket, InuYasha, Death Note, Ranma ½, Chrono Crusade, YuGiOh, Saiyuki… and the list goes on.

PS. Please forgive OOCness. While a great deal of it is obviously intentional (as this is a parody), some of it is due to the fact that I've never written anything for a number of these fandoms. Or even know a great deal about said fandoms. So be gentle.

PSS. Also, please forgive any grammar mistakes you see. I could only bear to edit this once. Eh heh…



The Crossover Caper


Or: What We'd All Do If We Had One


It was a bright and sunny day in the remote regions of… well, someplace that wasn't Kanto; no one quite knew where they were anymore, and to be perfectly honest they didn't particularly care. After nearly twenty seasons of their show, Ash, Brock, and their newest-acquisition-in-the-way-of-female-leads (no one really knew what her name was, either) didn't bother giving much thought to such trivial matters as "destination." Besides, no one was watching, anyway. Not since the entire cast had simultaneously hit puberty, causing their voices to change and morph into something awful, thereby ruining the show for nearly all of its loyal English fans.

But it was hard to focus on something so negative on a morning so vibrant and bursting with life.

"C'mon guys!" Ash cried cheerfully, pumping his fist in the air in a dramatic, highly cinematic manner. "Let's go enslave a gratuitous number of helpless animals in increasingly demeaning ways with the help of sparkly contraptions!"

"Only if we can pit them against one another in ways that both mental and physically scar them, as well as exploit their natural powers. And after that, let's send a few thousands volts of electricity through our virtually harmless stalkers," Brock happily returned, before finding himself distracted by the random appearance of a pretty, episode-only character, making him entirely useless for the duration of the show. It was a fact that Ash and female-demographic-pleaser found mildly irritating (not to mention confusing; where had she come from? They were on a road in the middle of nowhere…), but they were used to it. Besides, it added a healthy dose of inappropriate sexual humor to their watered down dub of a series.

But what should have been a fun and time-consuming distraction from Ash's futile attempt to become a Pokémon Master (a position with prerequisites that no one can seem to consistently define) turned highly unusual when, out of nowhere, random-girl-who-was-following-Ash-and-Brock keeled over dead.

"What the—?" Ash jumped, understandably startled, as the young girl toppled to the ground, clutching her overly-developed-for-being-a-prepubescent-female chest. "Oh my God, what just happened?"

Of course, Brock offered no answer. He was still pleasantly distracted.


Elsewhere, a rich young man with a voice that sounded highly familiar—in a nostalgic, pre-bizarre-puberty sort of way— was, once again, vainly attempting to defeat a small, leather-clad teenager in a children's card game that may or may not (depending on the arc) play some sort of determining factor in deciding the fate of the entire known universe.

"There's no way I'll lose to you this time, Yugi," Kaiba growled, trying to stare down the ancient spirit from across the playing field. Which, due to unavoidable circumstances, was literally just that: a little grass patch in the Domino City playground, kitty-corner to the twisty slide and crepe stand. The situation wasn't ideal: the screaming of toddlers and the perpetual stream of curious kids interrupting their banter ruined whatever ambiance they might have hoped for, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

Not unless they wanted to starve, anyway.

"You can try, Kaiba," Yami droned in his grave, ominous way, striking a compulsory, over-the-top pose. "But until you choose to put your faith in your friends and the Heart of the Cards, you'll never defeat me!"

"You tell him, Yugi!" Téa cheered from the sidelines, where she and the rest of the gang (who, for the most part, still had no idea how to play the game) stood to show their support. Mainly because they didn't have anything better to do. "You never could have won anything if it wasn't for all of us standing around and shouting at you during all of your duels! Talent and good cards and strategy and obvious cheating will get you nowhere! Friendship is the key to victory! Only through friendship—"

"And obnoxiously preachy sibling love!" Serenity added, molding herself to Joey's side in what many would consider a highly questionable fashion.

"—can anything ever get done! Do you think the Chinese could have built the Great Wall without friendship? Do you think the Americans would have ever gotten to the moon? NO! And do you know why?"

"Actually, both of those things were done in an attempt to show superiority over—" Bakura began, but he was effectively silenced by a purse in the face. Besides, no one really cared about him or his character when he wasn't being controlled by an evil, Lord of the Rings-inspired piece of jewelry.

"Because Friendship is the Way! It is the Light! It is the ONE TRUE PATH! I love Friendship!"

"So do I!" Serenity added with a perky smile. When she made to join Téa at the front of the Cheering Squad, however, her inability to see past her own nose caused her to trip pathetically; those of the bunch whose every action was driven concurrently by testosterone and a fervent wish to get into the young girl's pants quickly lost interest in the Pharaoh and Seto, instead concentrating on spoiling Joey's weak, worthless sister rotten.

Téa, oblivious, pressed on: "And so fight, Pharaoh! Fight in the name of Friendship! If you do that, there's nothing you can't do! Because Friendship is the only path to victory! Friendship saw you through your first duel, and your duel with Pegasus, and all the duels before and thereafter. Remember! Remember the symbol of our Friendship! Remember that frien—"

But even as the words fell from her mouth, Téa herself fell sideways; she tipped head-first onto a nearby strip of sidewalk, where a child immediately rolled over her with a bicycle. A half a second later, a muted cry of alarm from Serenity's fan club alerted the rival duelists to the fact that something equally odd had happened to the Wheeler girl.

"…so can we actually start playing now?" Kaiba asked after a moment, voice as flat as the deceased-females' characters.

Yami shrugged, unconcerned. "Fine by me."


Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away in a quaint complex of Japanese-style mansions, there was a cat chasing a rat. Truly, an amusing sight in and of itself, but it soon became infinitely more so: after the passing of a few casual moments, the two furry animals suddenly exploded, disappearing amid clouds of colored smoke.

And in their place stood two—very naked—arguing men.

"Stupid cat!"

"Damn rat!"

"I hate you!"

"I hate you more!"

"I hate you more times infinity!"

"I—!" The taller of the two paused, ruffled his short red hair, then snarled in fury; he apparently could think of no retort to this brilliant and eloquent reply. "DAMMIT! How is it you always win, Yuki?!"

Yuki smiled his beautiful, soft smile, crossing his lithe arms over his perfect chest. "Well, it doesn't take much to be better than you, Kyo."

"Why you—!"

"Wait! Kyo, Yuki! Please stop!"

With simultaneous starts, the pair turned around—blinking in surprise as a pretty young women ran towards them, her arms full of freshly laundered clothes. "Tohru," they breathed in unison, before suddenly remembering their modesty. They accepted the shirts and pants she offered with embarrassed grins.

"Please, don't fight," Tohru pleaded as the Sohma boys, once again, hid the family jewels from view. As they did so, the girl clasped her hands before her chest and allowed her wide, doe-brown eyes to swim with heart wrenching tears. "Please… I know you both love me, just like every other breathing male in a twenty mile radius… and I know neither of you feels worthy of being in my presence; understandable seeing as I am irritatingly perfect in every way known to man, from my adorable blunders to my amazing cooking abilities to my work ethic to my annoyingly perky, positive attitude… but please, move past that. Don't fight with one another— don't fight at all! Let's just live happily together and love each other like the family we are… ignoring the incestuous connotations and possibly bestial situations such a relationship inherently implies. Please? For me?"

She sniveled cutely, her quivering lips hidden by her frail, thin, work-worn fingers.

Like they always did, Kyo and Yuki melted on the spot…

And so, apparently, did Tohru. At least, that's what it seemed like—or maybe she was just swooning in their presence. Either way, she suddenly crumpled, clutching the heart that was (in the words of the good doctor) two-sizes-too-big-for-her-chest.

Dumbstruck, Yuki and Kyo stared blankly at their fallen love interest.

Somewhere in the distance, a cricket chirped.

"…is she… dead?" the red-haired Cat ventured after a pause, his voice strangely strangled as it left his mouth.

"I don't know… But… if she is—" Here Yuki drew himself up to his full height, glowering something dreadful— "then it must be your fault, you dumb cat!"

"Me?!" Kyo scoffed, whirling to face his Zodiac foe. "It's clearly your fault you damn rat!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"


While this articulate and altogether cutting display of wit and repartee went on in the present, something similar was occurring in the distant past:

"KAGOME!" InuYasha screamed, waving his huge, red, pulsating… sword.

About a yard away from the irate half-demon, having tripped and bumped her knee on the smooth, level, grassy surface, an ineffectual dark-haired woman sat with a bow and arrow in her hands, not doing anything. "INUYASHA!" she yelled back, teary-eyed with fright.

InuYasha continued to brandish his long, hard—and continually growing—weaponry, slaying a number of equally ineffectual and increasingly uncreative monsters, such as one that seemed to merely be a giant ball of hair. "KAGOME!"

Kagome made a valiant attempt to stand, but gosh darn it that bump was turning into a bruise; she couldn't move. "INUYASHA!"







Without warning, something of genuine interest occurred: Kagome slumped over, eyes glassy, jaw slack, and loose fingers untwining around the unused bow and arrow.

Everyone paused—even the hairball.

"Ka…Kagome…?" InuYasha called, though her name sounded more like a question now than it did before. In his bewilderment, the sword in his hands went a bit limp. Kagome, however, made no response. Instead, she continued to simply lie there, useless as ever.

"Wow…" Shippo gawked from Sango's shoulder, the shock evident in his voice. "That bruise must have been worse than we thought."


At about this time, word had begun to travel around the anime community at large: hundreds of main (albeit annoying) female characters were dropping like flies, oftentimes mid-sentence, and with no prior warning or condition. Never before—outside of Chrono Crusade, anyhow—had so many leading ladies met untimely ends for no good reason.

Pandemonium ensued. And, since no one felt safe in their own series anymore, it ensued in the form of a crossover.

…with much help supplied by the women of CLAMP.

"What the hell is going on around here?" Priest Sanzo roared, addressing the mob of worried characters who had, in their desperation, gathered in a convention hall. When his only answer was a tumult of mixed screams and shouts, he called for silence in the most effective way he knew: a wild round of shots from his spirit gun.

An instantaneous hush fell.

"Good. Now, I'll ask again," the tantrum-prone cleric growled, stepping onto the small stage that had been erected in the corner of the gigantic hotel suite. As he did so, a number of other characters decided to help themselves to the plush chairs that had been lined in neat rows; the result was what appeared to be a room full of unusually good cosplayers. "What the fuck is going on around here?"

"Don't ask me!" a teenage boy answered snidely, standing upon the seat he'd taken in the middle of the room. "I'm just here because all of my fiancés suddenly keeled over dead!"

"All of your fiancés?" a dark haired monk inquired lightly, looking slightly jealous as he turned to face the previous speaker. "You have more than one?"

The teenager fiddled awkwardly with the corner of his Chinese-styled kimono. "Er, well—"

Thankfully, before he could explain the finer details of his series' storyline, a vindictive looking waiter with CLAMP's trademarked broad shoulders and a nametag that read "Toya" splashed the boy with a glass of water from his tray; through the magic of weakly developed plots he suddenly transformed into a woman, thereby distracting both himself and the lecherous monk for the time being.

"…right. Well, that got us nowhere!" a cheerful, lanky man with pale hair and a bright smile chirped from the second row of seats.

"Shut up, Fey," Sanzo snapped, before whipping his head around to address the gathered collection of testosterone. "Anyone else have any clues as to what the hell is going on?"

No one had any idea.

Which, of course, they all had to make known verbally.

"If Kagome stays dead, we won't be able to collect any more Shikon Shards! And how could I possibly choose between two dead women?!"

"What are we going to do—bring back Misty? We can't have the show get good again!"

"We've just received word that all residence of the Strawberry Dorms have been found dead, save for one young woman named 'Shizuma'… who keeps going on about the loss of her harem…"

"When I got back to the Tower, all of the Teen Titans were dead! What will I do without my visibly weaker (which is weird, seeing as they are the ones with superpowers), inadequate subordinates?!"

"What the—Robin?! Get out of here, you're not an anime character!"

"But we have a Japanese intro…"


"You get out, too, Aang!"

"I have contacted Mithril, but no one can offer me any information at this time!"

"How could we possibly have an all-male Host Club without Haruhi?! …wait…"

"Whatever will I do without oppressive women beating the shit out of me?!"

"How will Saiyuki continue without the female leads?!"

"…there are female leads in Saiyuki? Since when?"

"I can't even blame this one on the Claw!"

"YuGiOh is gay enough without having NO women in it!"


"We already know what's going on."

The chaos died in an instant; in the shadowed, far left corner of the room, a teenage boy sporting a small ponytail had stood, rubbing his chin in a brooding manner.

"All of the facts are right here in front of us," the young man continued coolly, ambling towards the center of the room. His eyes were half-lidded in a contemplative way, creating an effect that was both musing and highly impressive. "In each of our respective series, leading female characters who many fans consider annoying or—in more extreme cases—'in the way' of future (albeit impossible, considering our existence is limited to the world of Japanese literature), self-inserted romances have suddenly been removed from the picture. What we're looking at here is quite possibly the largest mass murder of all time."

By now he had reached the middle of the stage, and stood poised beneath the spotlight beside a highly aggravated Priest Sanzo. Regardless of this, the teenage detective struck a determined pose.

"But don't worry! I, Hajime Kindaichi, swear by the name of my grandfather, Kosuke Kindaichi, that I will solve this—!"

"Hold it right there, buckaroo," Sanzo droned, allowing his hand to fall hard on Kindaichi's shoulder. "You're way to obscure to solve this case. When was your manga done? The 80s?"

Kindaichi flushed a bit, looking annoyed. "That doesn't change the fact that I have an IQ of 180! And I don't see you insulting Mosquiton over there for his obscure datedness!" In a moment of immaturity, the young super-sleuth pointed with a pout at the pale haired, quarter-vampire in the fourth row on the right.

"Yeah, well, all of those Inahoes taught him the beauty of keeping his mouth shut," Sanzo quipped with a meaningful snort. "In any case, your IQ is nothing compared to… his."

"And that would be my cue."

As a collective mass, the room of men spun around: in the frame of the colossal double doors stood a pale, slouched detective in his mid-twenties. With a vague nod of acknowledgement, he began a slow shuffle forward, dull of face and eye and expression.

"What the—!" Kindaichi scowled, clearly insulted. "But he's dead!"

"And so would you be, if we manga characters functioned on true-to-life timelines."

"It was the 1980s, not the 1880s!"

"Regardless," Sanzo returned in his usual cold, dispassionate tone. "Besides, while your IQ may be 180, L here is the best detective in the world. And apparently he masquerades as the second and third best detectives as well, putting you—at highest—in fourth place."

"What about me?!" piped a small voice from somewhere in the throng.

"Shut up, Conan, no one's talking to you."

"Moreover, Kindaichi-kun," L droned quietly as he finally reached the stage, the massive amount of sugar in his system in no way helping him pick up the pace, "I have already solved this mystery. If you don't mind, I'd like to be the one to see it through to its conclusion."

The high school detective bristled a bit. "You already solved it? How?!"

L offered a small, almost frightening smile; the heavy black bags under his equally dark eyes met and molded, making the whole of his upper face look as if it had been smudged with charcoal. "I had a similar case in the past. It was nothing. Now, if you please... I'll take my leave and sort this out so we can all move on with our respective stories' plots."

"But how will we move on?" cried a boy standing on the fringes of a group of seven samurai. Around him mingled his brethren: all of whom were nearly identical to himself; he seemed to be of Miyazaki origins. "All of the girls are dead!"

"Yeah, but it's anime," a number of Rumiko Takahashi characters immediately replied, rolling their eyes. "No one actually stays dead."

"Yeah," added a heavily scarred Middle Eastern man from the FMP franchise.

"Speak for yourself," L muttered, but allowed the conversation to drop. He had an old enemy to revisit…


"Alright, hand it over."

Startled, the teenage girl's head snapped upward; she hurriedly swept what she'd been writing in off of the table and hid it behind her back. "Hand what over?" she then asked sweetly, staring at the slumped detective in her doorway with wide, innocent eyes. "I don't have anything! Especially not anything that one would consider dangerous or potentially fatal… and if I did, it wouldn't be behind my back. No-siree-bob it would not."

L graced the fanfic authoress with a flat stare. "…look, I solved Light's case, and he was infinitely smarter than you are. Just give me the freakin' Death Note."

The young woman stuck out a wobbly bottom lip. "You didn't solve it in the anime…"

"How would you know? Everything you know about Death Note you learned through yaoi doujinshi. And anyway, everyone knows that the live action movies are better, and I win there," L retorted impatiently, holding out a hand. "Now give it to me, or else I'll tell fanfiction-dot-net that you've been using bad grammar. Then they'll delete all of your stories and put a lockdown on your account."

A pause.


"…dammit," the authoress grumbled, and with a wide swing of her arm revealed her poorly hidden notebook. "You leave me no choice. But can you blame me? With all of the annoying girls out of the way, my OTPs would have been able to rule supreme! You have to admit that my plan was sheer brilliance. And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn't for your meddling sexiness!"

Here she hesitated for a spell, frowning as L gingerly took the Death Note from her hands. "…how did you know it was me, anyway?"

L sighed, looking faintly exasperated as he slid the slim Note into a back pocket; he'd give it to Ryuk when he saw him later. "Because you're usually the one to blame."

"Aww, don't tell me you're still mad about that fanfic I wrote." Despite the gravity of the situation, the thwarted authoress giggled, winking cheerfully at the deceased detective.

The young man scowled in return. "…and on that note, I feel no shame in telling you that your plan never would have worked. Ever."

"Oh, you know you secretly—" she began in a sing-song voice, but was cut off by an exceedingly blunt:


"But you and Light—!"



And so ends a little slice of pure insanity. If I'd had room, I would have liked to have Zuko and Mello compare facial scars. Oh well… life goes on.

For everyone but L, anyway.