Fifty-Two, No Longer Counting

config.header.center: "1971" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18" -- When the high-security prison’s superintendent checks up on Inspector Zenigata, he thinks: Now there's a man who knows how to pace. Hour after hour passes with the relentless rhythm of his footsteps echoing up and down the concrete corridors, with his shoulders squared, his face set in grim determination. At the tail end of their eight-hour shift alongside the inspector, his guards are thinking: Now there's a man who does not know how to stop pacing. Please, for the love of god, stop pacing. Or maybe: We can count ourselves lucky. If he did stop, he'd start punching and kicking and clawing at the walls, instead. The situation is stressful enough already. None of them can relax while they've got Jigen Daisuke locked up, not even Jigen Daisuke. If you know how to look past the arms behind his head and the leg across his knee, then you can tell that the tension's creeping up on him. It's already gotten to the guards. Even the strength of the cell seems more foreboding than reassuring- If there's one thing most of them have learned, it's that putting up too much resistance simply invites heavier artillery. And if it had been up to anyone but the inspector, they might have discreetly dropped Jigen off at a gas station somewhere and been done with it. Not Zenigata. Publicly, they always make sure to praise his persistence and unfaltering leadership in the face of impossible odds. Privately, they think: That guy just has to make himself miserable, one way or another. The inspector, meanwhile, isn’t thinking about any of this. He’s far too busy sorting his subordinates into the categories ‘suspicious’ and ‘not suspicious enough’. Trouble is, everybody but him rotates in and out. Everybody but him is eating and drinking and sleeping and taking every possible opportunity to be replaced, bugged, manipulated. [if looked === true && (smelled === false || questioned === false)] One of them is pointedly rubbing at his cheek. [continue] > [if looked === false; append] [[That guy - Looks suspicious.|1971-1-1]] [if smelled === false; append] [[That guy - Smells suspicious.|1971-1-2]] [if questioned === false; append] [[That guy - Totally unsuspicious.|1971-1-3]] [if looked && smelled & questioned; append] [[This is unbearable.|1971-2]]

looked: true -- It's his mouth, Zenigata thinks. It's sitting all wrong on his face, threatening to slip off and reveal a smirk. He can just *see* it. The guard's friendly expression falters. "Sir?" Without a word of warning, Zenigata pinches his cheek and pulls. The guard starts whining through his teeth, arms flailing as he resists the instinct to lay a hand on his superior. The skin snaps back with a communal wince. "None of us have anything to smile about!" He slams a fist into his hand. "Not until we've got Lupin under lock and key, got it?" "Yes, sir," he says, miserably. >[[Zenigata resumes pacing.|1971-1]]

smelled: true -- Zenigata comes to a stop in front of one of his men. He leans down into his personal space, eyes narrowing. A low growl starts at the back of his throat, though only one of them is aware of it. "S-Sir?" Zenigata freezes. "What the hell is that cologne?" "It- It was a gift from my girlfriend! Sir." "Tch!" What a waste of money! Just to smell like a criminal. Women aren't really into that, are they? "At least wash it off before you come to work!" "Yes, sir!" The guard salutes. And while he's known the inspector to be high-strung, he's never known him to be the power-tripping kind. "Why, sir?" Zenigata's eyebrow twitches. "Because it's suspicious," he says, and fails to elaborate further. "Because I can't smell myself *think*." "Understood, sir," he lies. >[[Zenigata resumes pacing.|1971-1]]

questioned: true -- Now, this one. This man is the complete, calculated absence of Lupin. So utterly free of personality, so perfectly professional that it *must* be a ploy. Zenigata's nose twitches every time he passes him by. He doesn't even receive a glance of acknowledgement in return. "You there," he finally says, turning on his heel. "Identify yourself." The guard's gaze remains fixed to the wall across from him. "Officer Ohara, sir. I'm proud to have been assigned to this special operation." Zenigata steps in front of him, makes eye contact, and holds it, and holds it, and holds it, until he knows he'd have to have spotted some sparkle of mischief, some reaction. Nothing. His eyes are dull and lifeless. >[[Zenigata snorts with disappointment as he continues pacing.|1971-1]]

index: false config.footer.left: "{embed passage: 'indexcheck'}" config.header.center: "" config.style.page.verticalAlign: "top" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 64" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" config.style.backdrop: "teal" config.style.page.color: "white on gray" config.style.page.link.color: "white" config.style.page.link.active.color: "orange" config.style.page.link.lineColor: "orange" looked: false smelled: false questioned: false dream1: false dream2: false dream3: false dream4: false -- >[[1971|1971-1]]

He reaches for a pack of cigarettes in his coat. Smoking's all about the ritual, flicking the lighter, feeling the flame, inhaling, exhaling deeply. That, and the nicotine addiction. Either way, it doesn't seem to calm his nerves today. He curses to himself as he flicks the lighter closed. "It's pointless," he says, his jaw locked tight. "You could all be on his payroll, for all I know." "I've worked under you for years, sir," one of the officers behind him speaks up, but he doesn't even recognise his voice. There's too many of them, he thinks, too many voices, too many faces, and yet they're all the same. He only ever needs to pick out the one. "That's a motive, not an alibi," he grumbles. It's not difficult to see why Zenigata's men keep seizing the opportunity to take vacations and go to fancy restaurants and wear expensive cologne. >[[The atmosphere thickens from more than the smoke.|1971-3]]

The prison's a solid slab of concrete wrapped in barbed wire, not so much overlooking the ocean as containing it in its narrow, rectangular windows, where the prisoners can't smell the sea salt, can't hear the crashing of the waves, can't feel the stiff breeze against their skin. Further along the cliff, a lighthouse stands, worn down by decades of exposure to the elements. Night after night, it does its best to reach out into the dark, stormy sea, spinning like a searchlight. Zenigata stops in front of the window, smoking, staring. Thinking, but not yet sure of what. And as the sun sets behind the cover of heavy clouds, as they begin to collapse under their own weight and rain down into the ocean, the massive lightbulb jumps to life. The moment seizes him like a shadow seen out of the corner of his eye, but it doesn't let him go. Mouth open, he drops his cigarette to the floor and takes no notice of it. There's a moment of darkness. The next flash of light casts long shadows through the rain, illuminating the silhouettes of three guards, one after the other. Zenigata rubs at his eyes, grits his teeth, and by the time he looks back up, he's sure. >[[He's terribly sure.|1971-4]]

"Lupin," he whispers. "Lupin!" He's too transfixed to appreciate the way his officers stand at attention, ready to charge at any- and everything, no matter how absurd the next command may be. "What should we do, sir?" one of them asks. Zenigata's hands are pressed to the window. His breath is fogging up the glass. The most valuable weapon in his arsenal is still the permanent state of unease. All three of the guards at the top of the lighthouse are leaning against the windows, but two of them are propped up, posed like dolls. Heads against the glass, elbows on the frame, lifeless. The third stands between them, as casual as can be, looking down at him. {reveal link: "But why?", passage: "1971-4-1"}

config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- No matter how tactically sound it may be, keeping his distance from Lupin takes about as much denial of his instincts as pushing his face into a belt sander. There has to be a way to gain some ground, here. Zenigata's fingers curl against the glass as he looks to the left and right of himself. That one. That's the one that claimed to be loyal, isn't it? "You there!" he calls to the guard. "It's Kawasaki, sir," he sighs. Zenigata pushes off and towards him. The man doesn't even flinch as he snatches his hat off his head and replaces it with his own. Not quite the same stature, but close enough. "Am I bait?" he asks, nothing but resignation in his voice as Zenigata spins him around, wrangling his jacket off. "Of course not!" He pats his shoulders as he drapes his coat over him. "You're a decoy." Zenigata pushes him towards the window. He looks back at him, hunched over, one hand on the wall. The grin looks more than a little unwell, but one might as well call it encouraging. "All you have to do is stand there. Don't worry about your face- Worry about your body language!" The guard takes a deep breath. He closes his hands into fists and begins trembling with tension as if he were summoning some ancient and terrible beast from within. Then he steps out in front of the window, bow-legged, and pounds at it in anger, snarling up at the lighthouse. >[[Zenigata cackles as he runs down the corridor.|1971-6]]

It's almost time for the night shift. Getting the front door open requires the presence of both the superintendent and Inspector Zenigata, two pairs of keys that first have to be assembled, full-body searches on everyone exiting and entering. It's the kind of security measure Zenigata designs and then evaluates from Lupin's perspective, thinking: This just looks like a puzzle from here. He can never quite tell if that means it's a success or a failure. If Lupin's really opted to skip the procedure entirely, brute-forcing the matter from a different direction, then he's not sure whether he should feel proud or oddly jilted. Outside, the guards are huddled together, struggling to smoke under the pouring rain swept under their umbrella by the seaside winds. Zenigata grabs two of them by the elbow. "You're stationed at the top of the lighthouse," he says, dragging them along before they can question him further. They can only look at each other with silent worry. >[[They walk through the storm.|1971-7]]

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- He must be setting something up. He must have knocked them out, or- Well, probably he knocked them out- and hoped that the distance and the rain would be enough for them to pass for normal guards. {reveal link: "But why?", passage: "1971-4-2"}

He could also have anticipated that the inspector would recognise that something was wrong. Maybe that's what he wants. Maybe he wants Zenigata to spot him, run outside, chase after him, leave the actual objective behind. {reveal link: "But why?", passage: "1971-4-3"}

Lupin could zipline down from there to here- He could send down a bomb, or a rocket, and- and the reinforced walls of his cell would do just enough to protect Jigen, but not them. Maybe he's just waiting for him to clear out of there. {reveal link: "But why?", passage: "1971-4-4"}

The light is burning a dark spot into his vision. "Nothing," he finally says, glaring past the brim of his hat. "Nobody's leaving their post!" >[[Not without the proper precautions.|1971-5]]

Zenigata's heart beats at the top of his throat, head lowered, mud squelching under his shoes. He tries to recall the way he walked when he was just an officer, when every step had been ordered by someone else. The feeling's oddly vivid, back in one of these old uniforms. From up there, all that can be seen of him is that dark blue cap, perfectly anonymous. The guards lock step with each other without even trying. They stop in front of the lighthouse. Zenigata's the one who holds the door open, and he's also the one who lets the others pull ahead. He waits for one second, two, three. There's a brief, but terrible electric crackle. His men scream, strangled, and drop like mosquitoes in a bug zapper. Zenigata tries to suppress the excitement on his face, but his expression remains entirely inappropriate. It'll be fine, he thinks. They're just knocked out. Surely posing the actual corpses of police officers like puppets would be too morbid even for him. Someone's coming down the stairs. Zenigata's still hiding behind the door, where he hears him stop, knows he's accounting for the missing third man. Hears him laugh. >[[Hears him turn to run up the stairs.|1971-8]]

"LUPIN!" Zenigata takes in lungfuls of cold, wet air as he takes to the stone stairs, slippery under his shoes. Every other step makes his heart skip as he catches himself, as he shifts his balance and claws his way forward. "Fancy meeting you here, inspector!" Lupin calls, just barely out of his reach, threatening to slip out of his sight, and then he's scaling the steps three at a time, gathering more strength with every one of them, more urgency. "Peaceful little island, isn't it?" >[[He's almost at the top!|1971-9]]

As he lunges after him, the spotlight spins around to blind him, and he slides across the floor, crashing into the body of one of the unfortunate members of the day shift. He kicks himself backwards to catch him, and his head is in his arms, and his jaw is slack, and his eyes are closed, and he feels some sudden, deep horror, quickly pushing him off. The light passes over him again, hot on his skin, sweat and rainwater running down his face. He pushes himself up on one knee, closes one eye, raises his gun to take aim at the silhouette. "Stop right there!" he yells. >[[The shadow clarifies itself in the darkness.|1971-10]]

config.body.transition.name: "none" config.header.center: "" config.style.page.verticalAlign: "top" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 64" config.style.backdrop: "red" config.style.page.color: "white on gray" config.style.page.link.color: "white" config.style.page.link.active.color: "orange-0" config.style.page.link.lineColor: "orange-0" config.style.page.link.active.lineColor: "orange-0" config.header.center: "" -- [align center] [after 1 second; append] [[1977|1977-1]]

config.header.center: "1977" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- Inspector Zenigata could point to any part of the globe and tell you a story about the time he pursued the greatest thief in the world there. He could tell you about car chases, about politicians and mob bosses, about rare jewels and priceless art, breathlessly, as if even telling his stories was taking him back to the chase, or maybe like telling stories is part of it. And yet. All the veering volume control and wild gesticulation in the world can't obscure the fact that they all end the same way. {reveal link: 'Afghanistan', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Albania', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Algeria', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Andorra', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Angola', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Antigua and Barbuda', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Argentina', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Armenia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Australia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Austria', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Azerbaijan', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Bahamas, The', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Bahrain', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Bangladesh', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Barbados', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Belarus', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Belgium', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Belize', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Benin', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Bolivia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Bosnia and Herzegovina', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Botswana', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Brazil', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Brunei', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Brunswick and Lüneburg', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Bulgaria', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Burkina Faso (Upper Volta)', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Burma', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Burundi', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Cabo Verde', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Cagliostro, Duchy of', text: "Wait, where?"} {reveal link: 'Cambodia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Cameroon', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Canada', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Cayman Islands, The', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Central African Republic', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Chad', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Chile', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'China', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Colombia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Comoros', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Costa Rica', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Cote d’Ivoire (Ivory Coast)', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Croatia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Cuba', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Cyprus', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Czechia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Czechoslovakia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Democratic Republic of the Congo', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Denmark', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Djibouti', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Dominica', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Dominican Republic', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Ecuador', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Egypt', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'El Salvador', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Equatorial Guinea', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Eritrea', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Estonia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Eswatini', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Ethiopia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Fiji', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Finland', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'France', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Gabon', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Gambia, The', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Georgia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Germany', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Ghana', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Greece', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Grenada', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Guatemala', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Guinea', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Guinea-Bissau', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Guyana', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Haiti', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Holy See', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Honduras', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Hungary', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Iceland', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'India', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Indonesia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Iran', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Iraq', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Ireland', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Israel', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Italy', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Jamaica', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Japan', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Jordan', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Kazakhstan', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Kenya', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Kiribati', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Korea', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Kosovo', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Kuwait', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Kyrgyzstan', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Laos', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Latvia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Lebanon', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Lesotho', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Liberia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Libya', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Liechtenstein', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Lithuania', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Luxembourg', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Madagascar', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Malawi', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Malaysia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Maldives', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Mali', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Malta', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Marshall Islands', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Mauritania', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Mauritius', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Mexico', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Micronesia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Moldova', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Monaco', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Mongolia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Montenegro', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Morocco', text: 'Kind of humiliated, but differently.'} {reveal link: 'Mozambique', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Namibia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Nauru', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Nepal', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Netherlands, The', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'New Zealand', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Nicaragua', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Niger', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Nigeria', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'North Macedonia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Norway', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Oman', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Pakistan', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Palau', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Panama', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Papua New Guinea', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Paraguay', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Peru', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Philippines', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Poland', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Portugal', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Qatar', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Republic of Korea (South Korea)', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Republic of the Congo', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Romania', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Russia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Rwanda', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Saint Kitts and Nevis', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Saint Lucia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Saint Vincent and the Grenadines', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Samoa', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'San Marino', text: "Never been."} {reveal link: 'Sao Tome and Principe', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Saudi Arabia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Senegal', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Serbia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Seychelles', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Sierra Leone', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Singapore', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Slovakia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Slovenia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Solomon Islands, The', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Somalia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'South Africa', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'South Sudan', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Spain', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Sri Lanka', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Sudan', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Suriname', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Sweden', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Switzerland', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Syria', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Tajikistan', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Tanzania', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Thailand', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Timor-Leste', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Togo', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Tonga', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Trinidad and Tobago', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Tunisia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Turkey', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Turkmenistan', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Tuvalu', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Uganda', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Ukraine', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'United Arab Emirates, The', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'United Kingdom, The', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'United States of America, The', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Uruguay', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Uzbekistan', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Vanuatu', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Venezuela', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Vietnam', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Yemen', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Zambia', passage: '1977-1-1'} {reveal link: 'Zimbabwe', passage: '1977-1-1'} >[[ENOUGH.|1977-2]]

humiliation: ["Totally humiliated.", "Humiliated again.", "Got humiliated here.", "Humiliated.", "Humiliated like it's his job.", "Humiliated here as well.", "He was humiliated here.", "They really humiliated him.", "Humiliated once again.", "Humiliated quite badly.", "Humiliated once more.", "Humiliated from top to bottom."] rand: random.d12 config.body.transition.name: "none" -- [if rand === 1] {humiliation[1]} [if rand === 2] {humiliation[2]} [if rand === 3] {humiliation[3]} [if rand === 4] {humiliation[4]} [if rand === 5] {humiliation[5]} [if rand === 6] {humiliation[6]} [if rand === 7] {humiliation[7]} [if rand === 8] {humiliation[8]} [if rand === 9] {humiliation[9]} [if rand === 10] {humiliation[10]} [if rand === 11] {humiliation[11]} [if rand === 12] {humiliation[0]}

config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- Zenigata tries again and again and again, and every time, hot humiliation grips him like a hand around his heart, and every time, there's a moment where he wonders whether this might be it, whether it might just burst once and for all, and every time he finds that it stretches just a little bit further. His heart has the general appearance and texture of a punctured and deflated tire, at this point. >[[But the shame always fades. |1977-3]]

For all that the job takes from him, it also leaves him little time to sink into despair. There's always more calls to take, more planes to catch, more plans to make. >[[The shame always fades.|1977-4]]

[align center] ... [after 5 seconds; append] [align center] [[It's taking a little longer than he'd like.|1977-5]]

Lupin is using the other [[guard|1971-10-1]] as a shield. [[He|1971-10-2]] takes all his strength to hold up, [[heavy|1971-10-3]]. He kicks the glass out of the window to get a straight line down to Jigen's cell, wind and rain roaring into the room. His foot is on the window frame, crunching shards, and on his knee, he has some crossbow-like contraption, a huge, heavy explosive bolt. Zenigata's right hand takes aim, [[shaking|1971-10-4]]. He fires. The bullet barely misses either of them, knocks the crossbow off-course as Lupin pulls the trigger, and the bolt sails off into the air, past the prison, shaking the cliffside with its impact. [if index === false] >[[Zenigata, gun raised, can hardly believe it.|1977]] [else] >[[Zenigata, gun raised, can hardly believe it.|1971-11]]

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- Lupin is using the other {cycling link for: "body", choices: ["body", "guard"]} as a shield. {cycling link for: "he", choices: ["He", "It"]} takes all his strength to hold up, {cycling link for: "cold", choices: ["heavy", "limp"]}. He kicks the glass out of the window to get a straight line down to Jigen's cell, wind and rain roaring into the room. His foot is on the window frame, crunching shards, and on his knee, he has some crossbow-like contraption, a huge, heavy explosive bolt. Zenigata's right hand takes aim, {cycling link for: "shoot", choices: ["shaking", "steady"]}. He fires. The bullet barely misses either of them, knocks the crossbow off-course as Lupin pulls the trigger, and the bolt sails off into the air, past the prison, shaking the cliffside with its impact. [if index === false] >[[Zenigata, gun raised, can hardly believe it.|1977]] [else] >[[Zenigata, gun raised, can hardly believe it.|1971-11]]

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- Lupin is using the other {cycling link for: "body", choices: ["guard", "body"]} as a shield. {cycling link for: "he", choices: ["It", "He"]} takes all his strength to hold up, {cycling link for: "cold", choices: ["heavy", "limp"]}. He kicks the glass out of the window to get a straight line down to Jigen's cell, wind and rain roaring into the room. His foot is on the window frame, crunching shards, and on his knee, he has some crossbow-like contraption, a huge, heavy explosive bolt. Zenigata's right hand takes aim, {cycling link for: "shoot", choices: ["shaking", "steady"]}. He fires. The bullet barely misses either of them, knocks the crossbow off-course as Lupin pulls the trigger, and the bolt sails off into the air, past the prison, shaking the cliffside with its impact. [if index === false] >[[Zenigata, gun raised, can hardly believe it.|1977]] [else] >[[Zenigata, gun raised, can hardly believe it.|1971-11]]

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- Lupin is using the other {cycling link for: "body", choices: ["guard", "body"]} as a shield. {cycling link for: "he", choices: ["He", "It"]} takes all his strength to hold up, {cycling link for: "cold", choices: ["limp", "heavy"]}. He kicks the glass out of the window to get a straight line down to Jigen's cell, wind and rain roaring into the room. His foot is on the window frame, crunching shards, and on his knee, he has some crossbow-like contraption, a huge, heavy explosive bolt. Zenigata's right hand takes aim, {cycling link for: "shoot", choices: ["shaking", "steady"]}. He fires. The bullet barely misses either of them, knocks the crossbow off-course as Lupin pulls the trigger, and the bolt sails off into the air, past the prison, shaking the cliffside with its impact. [if index === false] >[[Zenigata, gun raised, can hardly believe it.|1977]] [else] >[[Zenigata, gun raised, can hardly believe it.|1971-11]]

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- Lupin is using the other {cycling link for: "body", choices: ["guard", "body"]} as a shield. {cycling link for: "he", choices: ["He", "It"]} takes all his strength to hold up, {cycling link for: "cold", choices: ["heavy", "limp"]}. He kicks the glass out of the window to get a straight line down to Jigen's cell, wind and rain roaring into the room. His foot is on the window frame, crunching shards, and on his knee, he has some crossbow-like contraption, a huge, heavy explosive bolt. Zenigata's right hand takes aim, {cycling link for: "shoot", choices: ["steady", "shaking"]}. He fires. The bullet barely misses either of them, knocks the crossbow off-course as Lupin pulls the trigger, and the bolt sails off into the air, past the prison, shaking the cliffside with its impact. [if index === false] >[[Zenigata, gun raised, can hardly believe it.|1977]] [else] >[[Zenigata, gun raised, can hardly believe it.|1971-11]]

It's difficult not to feel shame when you're dangling from the only tree in a three-mile radius, left behind in the Australian grasslands after being ejected from yet another exploding helicopter. In that situation, feeling shame is pretty much all you can do. But no. No! He can't give up so easily. {reveal link: "Try again!", passage: "1977-5-1"}

config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- This can't be his life, can it? Forever holding out hope that the next rooftop chase won't end in a pratfall, that the next recovered artefact won't be a fake, that the next bit of human kindness won't be a taunt in disguise. His life wasn't always like that, was it? {reveal link: "Try harder!", passage: "1977-6-1"}

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- He starts pulling at the tangled mess of his parachute, growling to himself until he's got one foot in a loop and a line between his teeth. He tears at it, trembling with the exertion, until it finally snaps and drops him with a yelp, a skipped heartbeat and a yank that realigns his spine. The line is now wrapped around his ankle as his head sways a few feet from the ground. >[[This is not an improvement.|1977-6]]

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- He summons every last bit of upper body strength he has left, sweating through way too many layers for the season as he tries to reach towards the cord. This goes on for about thirty seconds of twisting and groaning. It's not his fault. It's wrong to think of it that way, as Zenigata always losing. The problem is that Lupin's always winning. It's not his fault. Nobody else could do it, either. {reveal link: "Try harder!", passage: "1977-6-2"}

Zenigata uses his elbows to build up momentum, to swing towards the tree until he can hold on to the trunk of it. He tries to pull himself up, or down, as it were, getting a grip on the rough bark. It's not about him. It's about Lupin. Lupin proclaims that the world is his for the taking and, if you want to understand anything at all, if you want to have any hope of keeping up, you have to believe it. {reveal link: "Try harder!", passage: "1977-6-3"}

Finally, he's got his shoulders against the trunk, enough strength in his core to hold himself up against it, the line of the parachute cutting off all circulation to his foot. Precariously, he reaches out for the cord. It's not that the world's against him. It's the way luck curves in Lupin's favour, the way his will manifests, the way the same stories play out over and over around him. Lupin isn't just skilled. He isn't of this earth so much as the earth is for him. {reveal link: "Try harder!", passage: "1977-6-4"}

He finally gets hold of the cord, wraps his fingers around it with relief. The blood rushes out of his head. Every muscle in his body threatens to give out all at once. He thinks he's probably twisted his ankle. It's not that Zenigata's obsessed. Lupin is the largest part of all of them. Others just can't see it, can't bear to. And because Zenigata's the only one who sees it, he's the only one who can stand up to it. {reveal link: "Try harder!", passage: "1977-6-5"}

He gnaws at the cord. Should've brought a knife, or a gun, or anything more useful than a hundred pairs of handcuffs. It's about the symbolic weight of it- If he's the only one opposing him, then he's got to be different- Significantly so- Finally, he falls. He lands with a shock to the tailbone that vibrates through his whole body, every joint stiffening with pain down to his fingertips until he finally collapses onto his back. >[[Good grief.|1977-7]]

config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- Zenigata lies there, catching his breath. Then, slowly, he rolls over onto his front, crawls towards his hat, places it back on his head and collapses again, face in the dry grass. >[[Some time passes like this.|1977-8]]

Then there's the distant sound of a running motor. Zenigata's fingernails rake through the dirt, ripping clumps of grass from the ground. He lets out a single sob as he sits up, wipes his face on his sleeve. When he makes it back onto his feet, light-headed, he turns to face the approaching jeep, one hand in his coat. Ranged cuffs. Step out of their path at the last second, toss them as they go by. Probably get dragged behind them for a mile or two, but it's not like his day can get much worse. >[[Zenigata stares Lupin down as he comes into view.|1977-9]]

The jeep is headed straight for him. Then it starts slowing down. Then it rolls, harmlessly, to a stop right in front of him. "You're still stuck out here, Pops?" Lupin calls, brightly. Jigen and Goemon are sat in the backseat, looking insultingly unthreatened. Zenigata forces out a triumphant cackle. "I was lying in wait! And now-" He jumps onto the hood, bouncing on the suspension, and leans over the windshield. "You're under-" Lupin hits the gas. Zenigata tumbles forwards, a perfect 180 degree spin into the passenger seat, legs sticking into the air as he looks up at the underside of the dash. >[[Lupin laughs.|1977-10]]

Zenigata curses the whole way up, jostled as the jeep picks up speed across the plain. He emerges with one hand on his hat, one cuffing himself to Lupin. "Where the hell are we going?!" he yells. Jigen leans forward, one elbow on the driver's seat. "Yeah, Lupin. Where *are* we going?" "I just thought I'd give the old man a ride!" Lupin giggles to himself. "How about it, Pops? Wanna come along?" "Like hell!" Zenigata reaches for the wheel, yanking it until they're drifting out of control, slamming into the door with the force of the turn. "You're the one who's coming with me!" "Hey, now- Pops, come on!" Lupin elbows him until he lets go, bodily blocking him from the driver's seat, one foot still on the gas. "I'm trying to be nice, here!" Jigen reaches over the seat to take the wheel. Goemon remains the center of his own gravity, eyes closed, eyebrow twitching. [if index === false] >[[Zenigata's so angry that he can't even speak.|1984]] [else] >[[Zenigata's so angry that he can't even speak.|1977-11]]

config.body.transition.name: "none" config.header.center: "" config.style.page.verticalAlign: "top" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 64" config.style.backdrop: "pink-4" config.style.page.color: "white on gray" config.style.page.link.color: "white" config.style.page.link.active.color: "green-3" config.style.page.link.lineColor: "green-3" config.style.page.link.active.lineColor: "green-3" config.header.center: "" -- [align center] [after 1 second; append] [[1984|1984-1]]

config.header.center: "1984" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- Eventually, it occurs to the commissioner that this isn't normal. Moreso than nothing about the Lupin case is normal. He finds Inspector Zenigata passed out at his desk, surrounded by a sea of calling cards, clutching one between his fingers. Just this morning, he'd ordered him to do some spring cleaning on the mountains of evidence he'd stashed away, hoping to make more room for matters relating to political assassinations and international arms dealers. He advised Zenigata to hold his tongue regarding which of these things deserved more Interpol attention. And so it seems that he started sorting through calling cards- And simply did not stop. And as Zenigata softly snores, the commissioner looks them over like someone who wouldn't be able to part with a single one. It's like pulling a camera into focus. There must be hundreds, thousands. All nearly identical. Every one of them says: Come see what I'm doing. It's no good if you don't see it. >[[For the first time, he has an idea that might actually work.|1984-2]]

The commissioner doesn't even look at him when he reassigns him to a different department. Zenigata hears him from somewhere far away, just like the rest of the gossip around the office. "[[That guy would've just as soon found Lupin in any number of ink blots.|1984-2-1]]"

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- The commissioner doesn't even look at him when he reassigns him to a different department. Zenigata hears him from somewhere far away, just like the rest of the gossip around the office. "{cycling link for: "gossip", choices: ["To be fair, he did send him a subliminal message through a Rorschach test that one time.", "What'd he do to get this far with a 98% failure rate, anyway?", "We're never getting that budget back.", "It won't last. They'll beg him to come back soon enough.", "If it wasn't for him, we could've just shot the guy.", "Maybe they're in cahoots.", "He said he was proud to be his rival. Who says that?", "I don't think he has much else going on. He's never mentioned a wife.", "Didn't he have a daughter?", "He said he never had time to have a family.", "Maybe Lupin threatened him into quitting.", "Maybe devoting this much attention to a guy who thrives on attention was a bad idea.", "Do you think he'll throw a hissy fit?", "I think that's the idea.", "That guy would've just as soon found Lupin in any number of ink blots."]}" >[[Zenigata has more important things to worry about.|1984-3]]

config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- What would Lupin do without him? Go on a spree, most likely. Have the time of his life. Zenigata, meanwhile, keeps going to work. He spends exactly eight hours there, and he thinks of nothing but going home to watch the news the entire time. {reveal link: '*Click!*', passage: '1984-3-1'}

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- Vatican city. Lupin dances, frolics, prances, bounces and flounces across the screen, giving the papal regalia absolutely none of the dignity it demands, but doing a decent job of avoiding the machine gun fire directed at him. It tears, instead, through the priceless stained glass window behind the throne in Saint Peter's Basilica. Inspector Zenigata's absence is noted in the aftermath. His replacement states that they have nothing but respect for his work and are hoping to draw on his well of experience while implementing innovative approaches towards preventing any further destruction of property. One of the saintly statues tumbles from the roof as more-or-less innocent Catholics scream in the background. To his credit, he doesn't turn around. >[[Zenigata flips through the channels, looking for replays.|1984-4]]

config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- The commissioner assures the rest of Interpol: It's only going to get worse before it gets better. They need to keep the bigger picture in mind. This is the end of a decades-long campaign that failed on the most fundamental level. Still, the one thing they were hoping to avoid was being held responsible for more property damage in pursuit of Lupin- No more heavy weaponry, then. And it won't do to simply replace Zenigata- Better to send someone new every time. At the very least, that means that nobody has to shoulder the PR disaster alone. >[[Zenigata keeps watching TV.|1984-5]]

config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- Everybody wants to talk about the treasures they've lost and nobody wants to talk about the infrastructural damage they've avoided. They could have blown up the Kremlin to stop him, but they didn't. The chase could have rained ruin upon the Forbidden City, but it didn't. Doesn't that count for anything? Besides, the last time Zenigata headed the case, Lupin was already going after the Swedish crown jewels - Only they ended up at the bottom of the ocean, that time. Isn't that even worse? >[[Zenigata no longer cares what they think.|1984-7]]

config.body.transition.name: "none" config.header.center: "" config.style.page.verticalAlign: "top" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 64" config.style.backdrop: "blue-9" config.style.page.color: "white on gray" config.style.page.link.color: "white" config.style.page.link.active.color: "red-9" config.style.page.link.lineColor: "red-9" config.style.page.link.active.lineColor: "red-9" config.header.center: "" -- [align center] [after 1 second; append] [[2015|2015-1]]

Lupin has declared his intent to go on a world tour, snapping up all the crown jewels he might have missed so far. All over the globe, museums are closing down, moving their collections, hiring private security. {reveal link: '*Click!*', passage: '1984-5-1'}

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- Lupin seems to be wearing Lederhosen for no real reason other than to prove that he can. He's got the little feather in his hat and everything. It blows away on the alpine wind as he rides an out-of-control ski lift into the valley, pursued by an angry mob, not due to his fashion choices, but due to the Wittelsbach diamond between his teeth. When he hits the end of the cable, he takes off in an impressive arc and lands, perfectly safe, in Fujiko Mine's arms. She plucks the diamond from his mouth, presses a kiss to it, and promptly kicks him out of her car. Lupin asks the cameraman what the hell he thinks he's doing, standing there while upstanding thieves are being robbed right in front of him. >[[He sulks his way to safety.|1984-6]]

Lupin is still well on his way to achieving his goal, of course. There very nearly isn't anything left to steal. Zenigata can't fault anyone for the strategy- It's the only one that ever could've worked. Let him run his course like a natural disaster. Stop shovelling coal, and eventually, he'll stop burning. {reveal link: '*Click!*', passage: '1984-9-1'}

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- Somehow, Lupin has gotten hold of the camera. He carries it over his shoulder, looking down at Kuala Lumpur. Beautiful city, he says. He turns it around, pressing his eye right up to the lens. Wouldn't it be a shame if- The feed cuts off. They move on to the weather forecast. Somewhere, decisions are made. >[[Lupin's face isn't seen on TV again.|1984-8]]

config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- Zenigata runs his fingers along the columns and rows of his handwritten notes, considering every tick mark. He folds out maps of ocean currents across his kitchen table and phone books across the floor. When he hangs up the phone, he has his finger on the map. He realises that he's shaking. He grabs, blindly, for a pen, barely raises his hand to push it underneath, circles the coordinates until the paper thins and threatens to break. [if index === false] >[[It really could've worked.|2015]] [else] >[[It really could've worked.|1984-11]]

There's a shot of Lupin on the front page of the newspaper. He has the decency to look mildly embarrassed about how easy he's had it. His next target are the seven kingdoms of Malaysia. {reveal link: '*Click!*', passage: '1984-7-1'}

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- With the general demeanour of someone speaking at a funeral, a newscaster reports that Interpol has come to accept Lupin III's reign of terror. He now stands unopposed, even as he desecrates our treasures and disrespects our institutions. Nobody's protecting the populace. And what does Inspector Zenigata have to say about his legacy being trampled with both feet? As he goes on, he seems to be slowly losing confidence. He pauses for no readily apparent reason, looking around as if waiting for something. He tries for a few false starts, unfinished syllables hanging in the air, until, finally, his face twists into a grimace. He curses, long and loud, tears off his mask and walks off-screen. >[[Nobody hears from Lupin for weeks.|1984-10]]

config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- More people inquire after Zenigata than he'd like. Some even invite him to celebrate. But Zenigata has no time for that, not then, not now, not ever. >[[He still has a screen to watch.|1984-9]]

config.header.center: "2015" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- There's nightmares where you can't move, where some invisible force holds you in place while you flail helplessly and try to run. There's also nightmares where you can't stop moving, where gravity pulls you in the wrong direction, where your stomach turns with the constant sensation of falling, unable to reach out and hold on to anything. >[[Zenigata isn't sure which one this is.|2015-2]]

He's got a grip on Lupin's arm, one guard on the other side of him, one behind each of them. They're dragging him down a tiled corridor, bright, artificial light reflected by every flat, glossy surface, doing nothing to ease the terrible headache that comes with his broken nose. Claustrophobia urges him to run, to take hammers and shovels to the walls until he gets to see the sun again. It's just an irrational urge. There's no way to reach the surface in under thirty minutes, even by elevator. Lupin seems perfectly content with his lot in life, though his left cheek, swollen, bruised, renders his smile somewhat asymmetrical. The chains around his ankles clatter across the floor as he takes quick, small steps, falls behind, and is lifted off the ground again. His hands are chained in front of him. He might be humming to himself. >[[There must be something one of them doesn't know.|2015-3]]

His cell is surrounded by sleeping, bathing, cooking quarters, meant for half an army of full-time guards. It used to contain a state-of-the-art surveillance system, but the cameras were removed at Inspector Zenigata's request. His justification was that it's just another point of attack. You can't even trust your own eyes, much less a recording. Understanding didn't dawn on the other officials, though, until he said he'd be personally overseeing his sentence, instead. That understanding was: *Just leave me alone with him in there.* As Lupin's chains are removed, the guard behind him lays a hand on his shoulder. "You have our respect, inspector," he says, "and you always will." {reveal link: 'Silence.', passage: '2015-3-1'} "You have," he says, "our support in all things." {reveal link: 'Silence.', passage: '2015-3-2'} "You have our trust," he says. {reveal link: 'Silence.', passage: '2015-3-3'} "We'll be waiting outside." >[[The guard finally pushes Lupin into the cell.|2015-4]]

config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- The door closes with lock after lock clicking into place, tugging at nerve after nerve, twitching in his fingers. Then it's done. Zenigata leans back against it and feels heavy, heavy, heavy, until he's sitting on the floor, across from Lupin. Lupin, meanwhile, is leaning towards him. His hands meet the floor, one in front of the other. He's ready to pounce, even beaten to hell. "Well?" he asks, grins, and it strikes him as the most juvenile possible thing he could've said. "Well, what," he responds, just to keep up. "We're here to fight to the death, aren't we?" "I don't think they were expecting much of a fight." "That's on them, Pops. You know better." Zenigata meets his eyes- Gives him the sternest 'stand down' look he can manage. Lupin only pushes further, and Zenigata instantly hates himself for pressing his back up against the door. >[[What would he even do if he attacked him?|2015-5]]

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- He should grab his hand and break every last one of his fucking fingers.

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- He should then move on to his own.

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- The whole place should collapse in on them. It should swallow them all up and bury them so far down that future generations won't believe they ever existed.

Lupin pokes him in the chest with two fingers. "They're waiting for you to kill me," he says, and looks him in the eyes, and it suffocates him to think about what he might see. Then he flicks his fingers up his chin. Zenigata yelps. "But you're only in here so you can feed me, aren't you? Nurse me back to health like a frail baby bird?" Zenigata covers the lower half of his face with outraged embarrassment. "Only if I have to!" Lupin laughs, scratching the back of his head. "So this is it? Forever?" He looks around himself as if there was anything to see. "You and me on six square meters, taking turns watching each other piss until the end of time? I guess I should be flattered." Zenigata crosses his arms. "It's not *you and me*. It's me, staying here, keeping watch for as long as I need to!" "How long is that?" "Well-" He deflates. "As long as- As long as I can." Lupin makes an extended 'ha' noise. "Don't think- Just because I-" He squeezes himself tighter. "Don't think I won't do everything in my power to stop you." "I understand, Pops," Lupin says, his tone even. "It could be worse. I got awfully lonely last time, but now that you're here- You'll make this hellhole a hellhome, I'm sure." >[[The intercom pings to life.|2015-6]]

"Inspector Zenigata," comes out of the speakers, affixed next to the door. "Are you alright?" Lupin literally leaps at the chance. "I've already killed him. Sorry!" "Inspector-!" "Shut the hell up!" Zenigata pulls him away from the speaker. "Don't listen to him. I'm fine. We're both fine." He side-eyes Lupin, still holding him by the back of his shirt. "Don't open that door for anything, understand? No matter what he says." "But-" "I told you I'd oversee his sentence myself." {reveal link: 'Silence.', passage: '2015-6-1'} "Of course, sir," he says, slowly. "Nobody said anything different. Do what you think is right." >[[Zenigata feels nothing but relief when the speakers click off.|2015-7]]

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- For fuck's sake, the guards think.

config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- The cell's pretty damn close to perfect. It has a cot, a toilet and a showerhead, though no semblance of privacy. There's the smallest possible slot to receive trays of food and laundered uniforms through. Zenigata specifically chose not to know the full details behind the locking mechanism so Lupin couldn't get any information out of him. Flat LED lights run along the white walls. There isn't a single variation in colour, texture, or function to be seen across the entire room, an utterly unreal location, an environment of sensory deprivation. In solitary confinement, you'd be likely to lose your mind in less than a week. Zenigata gives himself a month or two. Maybe less. "I really did it this time, huh?" Lupin says, leaning back on his cot, bouncing his leg. "Sorry, Pops. I know I've got to stop getting caught." "Idiot," is all he says. "How're you going to get any sleep in here? Knowing that I'll be gone by the morning." He could be. If he managed to strangle Zenigata in his sleep and alerted the guards- Well, the door would open, though he'd also be instantly shot in the head. Still, he might pull it off. He wonders if there's anything he could say to convince the guards to do otherwise. >[[Probably not.|2015-8]]

Zenigata rises to his feet. Lupin's eyes are on him as he approaches, and then various pained noises of protest are directed at him as he pushes him onto his side. He drops onto the cot, back to back, practically trapping him up against the wall. "I'm a light sleeper," he says, only slightly sadistically. "Thanks to dealing with overnight stake-outs all these years." Lupin squirms, pushing off with all his strength. "Y' couldn't've gotten- a double?" he forces out, and is promptly squished back against the wall with twice as much force as he whines in despair. >[[He isn't going to strangle him in his sleep.|2015-9]]

Eventually, Lupin stops squirming. Zenigata lies there, arms crossed, not sleeping, because it *bothers* him. The lack of antipathy between them. The acceptance of... all this. He lies there, and the only indication that any time has passed are the lights, dimmed, but denying him actual darkness. Lupin breathes slow and even. It might be a ruse, but he might also be genuinely exhausted. When Zenigata shifts, ever so slightly, his body moves easily against his own. He wants to turn around and hold him. He wants to shake him, yell in his face. Look at me. Really look at me. I dedicate my life to you and this is all the good it does either of us. >[[This is the best we can do.|2015-10]]

I keep choosing this and I'll keep choosing it until one of us really does waste away in a big stupid metal box in the middle of nowhere. I'll let it happen. I'll die with nothing. [if index === false] >[[I'll let it kill me.|1971-11]] [else] >[[I'll let it kill me.|2015-11]]

config.header.center: "" config.style.page.verticalAlign: "top" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 64" config.body.transition.name: "none" config.style.backdrop: "teal" config.style.page.color: "white on gray" config.style.page.link.color: "white" config.style.page.link.active.color: "orange" config.style.page.link.lineColor: "orange" -- [align center] [after 1 second; append] [[1971|1971-12]]

config.header.center: "1971" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- "Well, this is embarrassing," Lupin says, softly, elbows on the railing, chin in his hands. He looks out at the newly-formed crater, the now-useless crossbow dropped at his feet. Zenigata brandishes his handcuffs. "You're not getting away this time. My men'll be storming this lighthouse before you know it!" "Probably," Lupin says, tapping one finger against his cheek. It takes Zenigata a moment to remember that he's got a gun trained on his skull, what that should mean for him. He waves it downwards. "Get on the floor, Lupin!" >[[Lupin does no such thing.|1971-13]]

Lupin moves backwards without ever looking at him. Zenigata follows his gaze, and, indeed, sees his men running to make the arrest. A few of them slip in the mud, but still. Suddenly, a rattling noise. Lupin's sideways smirk hits him like an electric shock. He's kicked the generator that runs the wires down the spiral staircase- The guards- The bodies- >[[Zenigata takes the shot.|1971-14]]

The thing starts sparking, leaking and dying, but Lupin throws something else towards the stairs- Zenigata's hands instantly follow the movement of it, and he hits it at the highest point in its arc- The shot goes straight through the fresnel lenses, through the light in the center of the room, and the grenade hisses, filling the darkness with thick, grey smoke, closing in on him. Zenigata frantically aims around himself as he tries to retreat, furious, lacking the confidence to take another blind shot, picturing the mocking look on Lupin's face as he hits one of his own men- >[[And then it's already too late.|1971-15]]

Lupin knocks him on the back of the head, sweeps his feet out from under him, and he hits the floor, disarmed and disoriented. He's held in place with a foot between his shoulder blades, and, he realises, his own gun pointed at him. Adrenaline rushes through him. He's possessed by the need to snarl and push himself up, but Lupin drops down to grind the side of his face into the floor, a cold hand across his cheek and the barrel against his temple. A full-body shudder runs through him. "Me and your men," Lupin says, the heel of his foot digging into his back, "I think we can help each other out, inspector." Zenigata keeps squirming under him, opens his mouth to bite down on his thumb, hard, growling like an animal. Lupin - "Jeez!" - struggles to pull himself free. >[[At the bottom of the lighthouse, the door is flung open.|1971-16]]

config.header.center: "1977" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- "Trying to kidnap an Interpol officer- That's beneath even you, Lupin!" Lupin kicks the seat, struggling against the headlock he's got him in. "Kid-nap-ping!" He pulls at the arms around his neck, getting just enough room to take another breath. "Who said anything about kidnapping?!" Jigen hauls himself into the driver's seat, uncaring of his partner's plight. Their arms have been twisted by the chain of the cuffs, and Lupin wrests them up and spins around to face him, straining as he tries to keep a hold on his wrist above him. Moreso than the physical resistance, looking at him does make it a little harder to strangle him. Zenigata grabs him by the collar, instead. "What else would you be doing?!" "I was- gonna-" Lupin gives in, letting go. Zenigata pulls him up to his face with both hands. "I was just gonna ask if you wanted to join us for dinner, jeez!" >[[Zenigata grimaces.|1977-13]]

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- His vision goes white. The pressure in his skull explodes, the gunshot rips through his hearing and invites a moment of total nothingness, too much of everything for there to be anything. >[[Terror grips him from the inside.|1971-17]]

Lupin takes his handcuffs from him. It's too much. Zenigata can't care about anything more than he cares about this. He grabs handfuls of the thick shards across the floor, twists around to come face to face with the barrel of- {reveal link: "BANG!", passage: "1971-16-1"}

config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- He waits for the shock to wear off, to reveal that he's been torn open. Something hot and wet streams down his cheek. His body goes slack enough for Lupin to cuff him, pushing him back down. When his guards arrive, he hears nothing but a high-pitched ringing noise, sees nothing but the flash of the muzzle. The poor sap who gets there first waves his hands through the smoke until he can see Lupin standing over him, and then he stumbles backwards, arms at his sides, holding the others back as his baton clatters down the stairs. >[[The missing strip of skin on his cheek starts to burn.|1971-18]]

He can only bite back tears. The humiliation of it is far worse than the wound, so complete, so horrible, so overwhelming, so inescapable, pain beyond recognition or reflection. Prolonged in a way it's never been, because it's in his presence, not his absence. Lupin sounds pleased as he makes his demands - for Jigen to walk three hundred feet to the northeast before they pursue them, and also a foot massage - just kidding - but Zenigata's hardly listening. Not until Lupin gets an arm around his neck, turns his head to examine the wound with an unsteady hand, fingers dipped in his blood. Zenigata's heart stutters. >[[The bastard's enjoying himself.|1971-19]]

Laughter rises in his throat like bile. Feeling something with everything you have, even despair- It's- Zenigata wouldn't put words to it, but it's hot in the stretch of Lupin pulling his head back, forcing him to face his men. "Don't listen to him," Zenigata calls out to them. "Don't do a damn thing he says!" They look worried. Not disappointed, disgusted, disillusioned. "But inspector," one of them tries. "He's-" "He's not gonna do it!" he bellows, and then he really is laughing, first with spite, then with something even worse. Lupin drops the gun to the hollow of his throat. "Since when?" he asks. "I thought I was a ruthless criminal. I thought I deserved the death penalty-" "Yeah! And you know how that worked out!" Zenigata howls, like it's the funniest joke anyone's ever made, and he knows, he knows he won't kill him. >[[But why?|1971-20]]

Because Lupin's spent an entire year of his life on nothing but the hope, the promise, the anticipation of making him feel just like this. Because he's taking the time to taunt him, even now, even with his partner's life on the line. If his pain is worth that much, then he must be worth something. If he wants to hurt him that badly, then he must want something from him. He must be a worthy rival, he must be a threat, he must mean something, somehow, he must take up space, and time, and there must be something to him, some shape he can fill. He's a long-term investment now. Lupin wouldn't just end his suffering, not after spending years getting into his head. >[[Not unless-|1971-21]]

"What if I'm done playing with you, inspector?" he asks, and this time it's quiet, private. "What if I've gotten everything I needed from you?" The answer comes easily, requiring no bravado, no hesitation. "Then do it," he says, and feels, deep in his chest, that it's the truth. [if index === false] >[[He can never hurt him again.|1977-11]] [else] >[[He can never hurt him again.|1971-22]]

He shakes him a little. "What the hell are you trying to pull, you little demon?!" "Um, let's see-" He scratches at his chin. "I'm trying to get devious reservations at a sushi restaurant- Then I'll look for an evil parking spot- I might even maliciously order a round of drinks-" "Lupin would like to call you friend," Goemon interrupts, and Zenigata stares at him, still gritting his teeth. "He doesn't consider the fact that you're his enemy an obstacle." "He'll be real down about it if you turn him down," Jigen says across from him, visibly amused. Zenigata's eyes flick between all three of them, mouth hanging open as he lowers his arms without meaning to. >[[What?|1977-14]]

He feels the telltale tightening of his throat, feels tears stinging at his eyes and isn't sure why. He's tired and aching and hungry and lonely, but that isn't anything new. "Come on," Lupin says, patting his chest. "I like you." The corners of his mouth pull downwards, totally out of his control. "Why would you *like* me?" "Well, why not?" He shrugs, still smiling. "Life's more fun when you have people you like." "I hate you," he says, and his head swirls with it, and his eyes slide right off of him. "I hate everything about you," he says, and feels like he's boiling alive in his coat. "That sounds tough, Pops." "I'll put an end to you, one way or the other," he forces out, trembling. "I swear I will." Jigen and Goemon look at each other, silently, as they continue to speed across the grasslands. They look at Lupin, too, but can't make heads or tails of it. "It won't be like this forever," Zenigata says, and he has to believe it, he has to. He lets go of Lupin to cover his eyes, and Lupin's hand lands on his back. >[["Let's enjoy it while it lasts, huh?"|1977-15]]

I don't want that, Zenigata thinks. I want to take the world back from you. I don't want to become part of yours. Lupin just strokes his back. There isn't much room for him at all, one knee on the side of the seat, legs impeding the gear shift and pedals. "You alright there?" Jigen asks. "Fine," Lupin mumbles, bending down until his head's on his shoulders, his arms around him. "He's fine." >[[Zenigata tries not to cry.|1977-16]]

It's not that Lupin can't be kind. It's not that he can't be just as good as he can be selfish. It's not even that Zenigata can't be every bit as cruel as him- It's not about any of that. It's that living in a world where Lupin gets everything he wants, where he gets away with everything, always and forever, is unbearable. It's unacceptable. It can't possibly be all there is. There has to be something strong enough to resist him. >[[And it has to be him.|1977-17]]

He has to be the thing that reigns him in, that rails against him. He can't be the thing that he... wants. >[[Because everything he wants...|1977-18]]

Zenigata's chest is seized with sudden, biting cold. His hands hover in front of his face, eyes wide. How would he know? He would know, wouldn't he? Whether he's being taken- Whether he's *been* taken- "Let me out," he says, and he says it over and over, on autopilot, trying to stave off his own mind's attempts to interrogate itself, "Let me out, let me out, let me-" "Whoa there! What now-" "Let me out!" Zenigata pushes him off, and Lupin lands in Jigen's lap, pulling Zenigata along by the chain of his cuffs, and he slams his foot down on the brake as Lupin looks up at him, confused, even hurt. >[[He almost fumbles the keys when he unlocks himself.|1977-19]]

Zenigata steps over the door of the jeep, feeling weak, feeling one second away from falling apart. He tries to keep his balance, tries to keep his head free of thought. "Pops!" Lupin calls. "I'm... sorry? I, uh, didn't mean it!" "Like hell you did," Zenigata growls. He takes off, but the jeep keeps following him at a walking pace. "You're just gonna get lost out here! It's miles back to the city!" >[[He keeps walking. One foot in front of the other.|1977-20]]

"It's hot out! You're gonna wind up wandering in circles-" "Like I'd be so lucky!" he finally barks, spinning to face him. He's not going to wind up starving to death, not here or anywhere. Not because of what it'd mean for himself, but because of what it'd mean for Lupin. He clenches his hands into fists, growling, like he's going to let something out, like it could make him feel better- No such thing, though. He deflates, turns back around, and waves them off, defeated. "I'll see you next week!" [if index === false] >[[The gang watches him disappear into the wrong direction.|1984-11]] [else] >[[The gang watches him disappear into the wrong direction.|1977-21]]

config.header.center: "1984" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- Zenigata feels a little like a rubber duck in the bath with a particularly temperamental toddler. The North Sea tosses his rowboat around with little regard for his well-being, waves crashing over him, drenching him through his trenchcoat and leaving him vulnerable to the autumnal windchill. Not that any force of nature could stop him. He's finally getting close to the modestly-sized fishing vessel, the one he's been rowing towards for hours and hours, wrapping around from exhausted to euphoric no less than three times. Every other second, he thinks: That's close enough, I'm close enough now, and then: No, I have to be sure. >[[But this time-|1984-13]]

He rises to his feet, riding another wave. He starts swinging the end of the rope he's attached his handcuffs to, aiming for the boat's railing, pulling back and- His own boat rocks him, hard, just as his center of gravity falls behind him, and he tumbles backwards and into the sea. Underneath the water, his body tries to tell him something, and he tells it to shut the hell up. {reveal link: "He claws...", passage: "1984-13-1"}

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- He claws {reveal link: "and claws...", passage: "1984-13-2"}

and claws {reveal link: "and claws...", passage: "1984-13-3"}

and claws {reveal link: "and claws...", passage: "1984-13-4"}

and claws {reveal link: "and claws...", passage: "1984-13-5"}

and claws his way to the surface, and he twirls the rope above him like a lasso, and he throws with years and years and years of practice, and the cuff clicks around the metal railing. >[[He clings to the rope, fingers numb.|1984-14]]

config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- He climbs it with another cuff between his teeth. When he's half-way there, someone- a man- Lupin- Lupin- Lupin- comes sliding down the deck, nearly flipping over the railing. Zenigata slaps the cuff around his wrist, uses it for leverage to pull himself up, and then he comes face to face with the greatest thief in the world, stunned. Lightning strikes to illuminate something between ecstatic glee and imminent heart failure in his face. It turns to abject terror as Jigen crashes into Lupin and threatens to drown all three of them, but after another bout of flailing and cursing, they finally get one hand around each of his arms and pull him aboard. His legs give out the moment they hit the deck. Lupin, half-wearing his jacket, catches him, reaches around him in what's almost an embrace. He clicks himself free of his cuffs, giggling, and then it's a cackle, and then it's a squeeze. Zenigata lets it happen. Even through the haze of whatever insane adrenal concoction has been keeping him alive, he realises that he wouldn't have been able to take him anywhere else anytime soon, anyway. It was more of a symbolic gesture. >[[It's been eight months, two weeks, three days, six hours.|1984-15]]

"Pops!" Jigen shouts over the storm, one hand on his hat, stance wide. "How the hell did you get here?!" "Let's just get the poor guy inside, Jigen!" Lupin calls. They wrench him upwards, one arm over each of their shoulders, and drag him below deck with soggy, squelching socks. "Not that he can get any wetter." They reach the cramped cabin. Zenigata waves them off and collapses between two bunk beds, not so much dripping as actively pouring water onto the floor. He’s already lost his coat, of course, his badge, his hat, and, somehow, only one of his shoes. >[[Lupin helps him pull the remaining one off.|1984-15-1]]

"N-n-no problem," he manages, and his face is a little too numb to pull off the wink he attempts. "The c-cold's no match for my burning passion for justice!" "For me, more like!" Lupin giggles, not without mockery. “I don’t think anybody loves me like you do, Pops!” And Zenigata's tired of hearing it. He's tired of letting it control him. He's already lost everything he ever had to lose. So he leans in, slowly, building up the threat, and grabs him by the tie. "That's why nobody else can catch you," he practically spits at him. "It's my biggest advantage!" Lupin freezes. "Huh?" It makes him feel powerful for exactly two and a half seconds. Then the bluster leaves him as quickly as it came. "Don't look at me like that," he says, bitter, pulling away to busy himself with the knot of his own tie. "It's not even an open secret. It's more like a running gag." "Love?" Lupin asks. >[["Well-"|1984-17]]

Lupin's expression is something that drops, heavy, surprisingly heavy, like a box you didn't know you'd be lifting, and then suddenly rises up into the sky, totally weightless. If Zenigata had caught it happening, he might have been able to fend him off in time. "Love!" Lupin proclaims, already in his personal space, and pulls his tie free to toss it over his shoulder. "It's- It's not-" "Tell me more, Pops!" he says, and he can tell that there's some overwhelming dullness suddenly lifted from his face, his voice. "Tell you what-" "What d'you love about me, huh?" His fingers dance across his stomach, undoing, he realises, the buttons of his vest, and the only thing he can think to do is make sure to fight his own way out of the drenched damn thing. "Listen, I don't-" "You do!" He's got his forearms on his chest, legs kicking the air like he's lying on his bed and doodling hearts into his diary. "Now it's just a question of how, and why, and what-" >[[As if he isn't the very last person to ask.|1984-18]]

How does an inspector love a thief? Like a loyal friend to depend on, to build your life around? Like a precious diamond to bask in the brilliance of, hoping it reflects on you? Like the thrill of your own downfall, following your passions until you're undone by them? Lupin pulls him down by his legs and pushes them up until they're past his shoulders, grinning down at him from between his knees. "I'll do you if you want me to!" "N-" Zenigata stutters, more noise than letter. "N- N-" "Then you can show me how you feel." Lupin reaches down to undo the buttons of his shirt, peeling the fabric off his skin. "I'll be real gentle, don't worry-" Zenigata finally kicks him in the chin. "No!" Lupin yelps in pain, once when he hits the door, then again when the door slams into the back of his head. He drops onto all fours, then onto the floor. "Chrissake, Lupin," Jigen says, standing in the corridor with an armful of towels and a cigarette in his mouth. "You leave that man alone. He hasn't even thawed out yet." "He loves me," Lupin whines. Jigen flashes him a look under the brim of his hat. "Is that true?" >[[Goddamnit.|1984-19]]

"Not the way he thinks!" Zenigata covers himself, suddenly self-conscious of every single inch of his skin. "I just meant- Love motivates me! Love for my fellow man!" "Well, naturally," Lupin says, lightly. "No! I mean a love for mankind! And its potential for good! I mean my ideals! Like- Like hope and brotherhood! Like mercy and all that crap!" Lupin pouts up at him. "You haven't had mercy on me even once." "Shut up!" Jigen tosses a towel at his face. He starts drying himself off, hastily, and Jigen tips his hat to him before he leaves. "My condolences," he says. >[[Zenigata bites down on the towel.|1984-20]]

Lupin crawls back up to him like the little worm he is. "Pops, Pops, Pops," he says, rubbing up against his now-covered chest like a cat. "Give me *something*. Tell me I'm wicked and dastardly. Tell me I'm unstoppable. Tell me I'm worth the rest of your life." "Like your ego isn't big enough?!" "It isn't! It really isn't." Lupin closes his eyes, mournful. "It's a sad, sad world out there." Zenigata sighs. "Why don't you tell *me* something, huh?" "Of course!" Lupin instantly lights up. "You're dashing, you're heroic-" "Oh, shut it." Lupin holds a finger over his mouth for a second, thinking. "Okay, I've got better ones." He breaks into a grin. "You're not as much of a cop as you think you are." That one's worse. That one reminds him of waking up too early, waking up from nightmares he can't remember, feeling like nothing and no one. "How the hell is that even a compliment?" "It is from where I'm sitting!" Lupin wraps his arms around his middle, pursing his lips. "You don't want me like a cop wants a criminal. And I don't just mean carnally, though there's that, too-" "Tch!" Zenigata places a hand on his forehead in warning. "No, no, listen! You want me like a thief! And you're almost too good for your own good, Pops." Lupin pushes up until they're face to face again, one hand on his wrist, pulling it along. "I'm the ultimate target. And you don't want to lose that. You know you motivate me- Pops-" Lupin rests his cheek on his palm. "You're not here to stop me. You're here to make sure I don't quit, aren't you?" >[[Zenigata scoffs.|1984-21]]

"I'll make you an offer," Lupin says, sly. "We haven't brought in any treasure yet, but we do have about three tons of shrimp to sort through! If you find the crown first- If you take it back to Interpol- Maybe you can get your resources reallocated. Maybe you can take even more from me- It's a hoard at this point, I'll be honest-" He leans in. Zenigata's heart pounds in his chest. [if index === false] >[["And maybe we can make this fun again."|2015-11]] [else] >[["And maybe we can make this fun again."|1984-22]]

config.header.center: "2015" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- The worst days are the ones where Lupin never comes within his reach at all. Those are the days where Zenigata even sleeps like a man possessed, sweating, shivering, twisting his fingers into the sheets like the lapels of his jacket. He has him closer than he's ever had him, and yet, the feeling is that one. The one where he's so unreachable that he'd even prefer a boot to the face off a ladder to remember him by. >[[Something to ache with.|2015-13]]

"Is it just you out here, Pops?" He's shaking too violently to get out more than one syllable at a time, or less than a dozen of the same syllable in a row, so he simply points to the bullseye over his shoulder. Lupin looks out into the sea, squinting to make out his lonely raft in the distance. "Sheesh! Is that the best an ICPO budget can do?" Zenigata shakes his head, an evil laugh rattling through his lungs, and points at himself, instead. "Going rogue?" Lupin looks back at him, wide-eyed. "How’d you even find us?" Zenigata begins a complex series of hand gestures across invisible maps and documents, finishing with a sweep of his arm to reveal the thieves. "I see!" Lupin exclaims. "You mapped out the currents of the North Sea, determined that they might have carried the Swedish crown jewels in this direction, and monitored the area for deep-sea trawlers!" Zenigata nods vigorously. "Hell's going on?" Jigen asks. "They're the only ones we're still missing, you know!" Lupin fiddles with the shoe in his hands. "They're the only ones we lost." "Not like the rest of them are doing us any good," Jigen mumbles. He looks for something in his jacket, then pulls out a drenched pack of cigarettes. "I'm gonna look for, uh- Some towels or something. Maybe make some coffee." He looks at Zenigata. "Shame if he froze to death now." >[[As if!|1984-16]]

config.header.center: "2015" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- Lupin wakes with a start, a noticeable snap of tension in his back and shoulder muscles. The lights haven't been brightened, and that means that the sun hasn't risen yet. Zenigata wishes for grey and gold seeping into the dark sky. He really should've appreciated it while he still had it. "Pops." He sighs. "I'm awake." "Huh? Still, or already?" Lupin elbows his way into some space on the cot, pushing himself up. "If you don't sleep..." He stretches, yawns, loud and exaggerated. "You're gonna get cranky." Zenigata just lies there, arms in front of his face. "Like that." Lupin steps over him, bare feet landing on the tiled floor. He pulls off his shirt, steps out of his pants. He stops at his boxers, the only part of his wardrobe they left him with. "Pops, do you mind-" 'I've strip-searched you so many times I could identify you by your left nutsack,' Zenigata doesn't say. "Like I care," he does. "Fine, fine." Lupin leans against the wall under the showerhead and shuffles out of them. "So how do I-" A stream of water interrupts him. Unfortunately for him, hot showers are strictly limited to the facilities outside the cell. His eyes are wide, his teeth clenched as he hugs himself in the corner, emitting a continuous high-pitched whine. >[[At least there's something to see.|2015-14]]

Not only that. Yesterday's bruises have deepened, darkened, shimmering like pools of oil under the water and low light. Lupin looks up into the cold stream, letting it run down his face, wash over the scabbing under his eye socket. He rubs himself down until the water shuts off entirely, then shakes his head like a wet dog and relaxes. "Like what you see?" he teases, one eye open, head leaning back against the tiles. Zenigata's about to reconsider his line about strip searches and nutsacks, but then Lupin shows off his wrists, instead, dotted with crushed blood vessels. "You yanked those cuffs so hard I thought my arm might come off. Did dislocate my shoulder, actually." Even as a taunt, he can't bring himself to resist or deny it. He has to believe that he doesn't want to hurt him. "Sorry," is all he says. "Sorry?" Lupin's lazy, lopsided smile fades. "I try to give you credit, and, what, you give me pity? That hurts, Pops. Way worse than a fractured tailbone." Zenigata's eyebrows knit together. "Do you need a doctor?" "It grows back stronger every time!" he proclaims. "I'm gonna be invincible." He runs his fingers along the underside of his thigh, the impact splattered black and blue across it. "Wouldn't give you that one, though. I'm pretty prone to falling on my ass, even by myself." >[[What does he think this is?|2015-15]]

Lupin looks around himself. "No towels?" "Absolutely not." "Huh." He picks up his boxers with his toes, pulls them back on. "Should've just kept me naked, at that point." "Any two-bit punk can hurt you," Zenigata says, voice low. "It's nothing to be proud of." "Cruel! No mercy on my ego today, no mercy," Lupin mutters, shaking his head. "But it's different when it's you. It's like... Anyone can break my heart, but it's different when Fujiko does it, you know?" He narrows his eyes. "It's expected?" "More like... it's earned?" He shrugs. "I don't think about it much. It just feels right." It should sound stupid. Problem is, Zenigata desperately wants to be something *different*. >[[Something *right*.|2015-16]]

Lupin plops down on the edge of the cot, holding himself up, like he didn't just send Zenigata's insides swirling. "C'mon," he says, grinning down at him. "I must've gotten you a couple of times, too." He grunts. "Still got a splitting headache from when you headbutted me. Cracked the bridge of my nose." "And how does that feel?" It feels good when I've got you giving up on style, on grace, acting on instinct. It feels good when I get to feel you after you're gone. The words stick in the back of his throat like an oily film. Lupin swings his leg across the cot, kneels above him. "Hey, what-" "Let me see!" he says, reaching out to touch his face. "Wait-" His fingertips ghost across the swollen tissue, then press down on it, feeling for the bones underneath. Zenigata whines. The pain shoots up into his forehead, radiates into his eyesockets. His feet slide up and down the sheets, his toes curl, his hands hover until he can't take it anymore, until he grabs him by the wrists and snarls up at him. >[["Stop!"|2015-17]]

"That sounded pretty bad," Lupin says, cast in low, ghostly light. "I guess I did get you worse than you got me." It almost sounds remorseful. That is, until Zenigata makes out the pout, curling up into a smile and a wink. It makes his lower lip twitch. His thumbs grind up into his wrists, push up under the bone. It does, at least, cut off the breathy giggle. "Hey, now," Lupin says, and his fingers are splayed, visibly resisting the urge to curl in, to pull away. Instead, his hands tilt forwards, into the pressure. One of them pushes back, down, lands on his shoulder as he leans over him. "Hey," he says, softly, but grips him tight. Like a *challenge*. Lupin doesn't look like he's in pain, he looks like he's in deep concentration. His features keep tensing and relaxing. There's a pause between each slow inhale and exhale, drawing each breath out as if to avoid the next. The reflections of his skin are the only thing that could make you believe in moonlight down here. [align center] [[Hurt him.|2015-18]] Stop.

Zenigata massages his thumbs in circles, varies the pressure in waves just to feel Lupin knead his shoulder with the rhythm of it. He starts hissing every other breath through gritted teeth, eyebrows furrowing. Even just watching it makes him feel light-headed. He's never had him this responsive, never had this much of his attention on him, never felt this close to reaching him. He's never touched him before, he thinks. Everything else must've been something else. He moves one hand to the back of his thigh. Most of the bruise is hidden behind him, under his boxers, but he can feel out the edges of it by the way his voice stutters in his throat. His hand slides underneath the fabric, where the skin, he imagines, is a little softer, a little warmer, and his fingers dig into it until Lupin finally exhales with a long, open-mouthed noise, his entire body tensing up. Zenigata feels drunk, insane, and hard, in that order. Lupin laughs with something like desperate disbelief, lowering his torso, arching his back. [align center] [[Hurt him.|2015-19]] Stop.

He has both hands on his thighs, squeezing, and they keep twitching away, knees leaving the cot before Lupin forces them back down. When Zenigata rakes his nails down the tender skin, all he can do is whine, trembling in place with the effort. "That's good," Zenigata breathes, because it is, it's good that he can take it, it's good that he can enjoy it, it's good that they're stuck in hell together, forever, maybe, really, forever. Lupin just runs one hand up his neck, holding his head and biting his earlobe. Zenigata finds himself briefly stunned that that's something people actually do. [align center] [[Hurt him.|2015-20]] Stop.

Distantly, he realises that Lupin's palming himself through his boxers with slow, shaky movements. Zenigata can't help him out, he can't even help himself out, but he turns his head to scrape his teeth across the ugly, angry bruise across his cheekbone. Then the lights brighten. Zenigata squeezes his eyes shut, blinks them open, and some semblance of sobriety overcomes him, stops him in his tracks. Briefly, he worries about the risk of infection from tonguing someone's abrasions. Then, at length, he worries about having any desire to do so in the first place. The intercom beeps. Startled, Zenigata sits up, Lupin in his lap. "Inspector! Are you completely out of your mind?!" "He's-" Lupin begins. Zenigata clamps his mouth shut. >[[Probably, but the commissioner doesn't need to know that.|2015-21]]

"I'm only trying to do my duty to its fullest extent, sir," he says, voice rough. "You know we've never managed to- Well, he's always found a way out when we've left him unsupervised, even for a moment-" Lupin giggles, leans against his chest, one hand down his boxers, and he should shove him off, collect himself, but he finds himself pulling him closer. "That doesn't mean you can just join him in there! You haven't actually broken any federal laws! And that's a solitary cell-" He stills Lupin's hand, for fear of- noises- "Extraordinary measures are justified-" "I don't mind, anyway," Lupin says, pulling down the elastic band of his underwear. "I would've invited him myself if I'd known it was an option." Zenigata chokes on nothing. His hand starts moving Lupin's up and down, slowly, grip tight. He watches it play across his face, pleasure, languid pleasure, and feels, very strongly, that he might faint. "Just what the hell are you hoping to achieve in there?!" "He's trying to *redeem* me," Lupin moans into his collar, stretching his legs. "He'll really do it, too." Zenigata clears his throat. "Commissioner, with all due respect- You can extract me, but you'll likely lose Lupin, as well-" "Unbelievable- I'll be back, Zenigata! Don't think you're getting paid for this!" The speakers click off. "Like it's a vacation?" Zenigata asks. [if index === false] >[["Honeymoon," Lupin sighs.|1971-22]] [else] >[["Honeymoon," Lupin sighs.|2015-21-1]]

config.header.center: "" config.style.page.verticalAlign: "top" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 64" config.body.transition.name: "none" config.style.backdrop: "teal" config.style.page.color: "white on gray" config.style.page.link.color: "white" config.style.page.link.active.color: "orange" config.style.page.link.lineColor: "orange" looked: false smelled: false questioned: false -- [align center] [after 1 second; append] [[1971|1971-23]]

config.header.center: "1971" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- His men don't believe him. Zenigata sobs and wails, he knows, he knows him, they don't know him like he does, he gets off on this, you idiots, he's not going to pull the trigger early- [[>>|1971-24]]

And still, Jigen walks. Three hundred feet to the northeast, his gun's stashed in the trunk of a tree. From there, it's just a matter of covering for Lupin's escape. [[>>|1971-25]]

Zenigata refuses treatment. The electrocuted guards are the priority, anyway, and they check them for a pulse, and Zenigata's heart clenches, and he can't know, he can't. He walks away before they can tell him anything. [[>>|1971-26]]

dread: random.d4 -- His ears are still ringing when he gets reprimanded, when he comes home, when he goes back to work. And if there really were such a thing as ten years later, they'd still be ringing, then. [if index === false] [[>>|1977-21]] [if index === true && dread === 4] [[>>|1971dread]] [if index === true && dread != 4] [[>>|index]]

config.header.center: "1977" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- Zenigata couldn't tell you how he makes it back. It only matters that he does. He reappears in Tokyo, in Cairo, in Paris. Wherever Lupin goes, there he is. [[>>|1977-23]]

Sometimes Lupin sees him and smiles, and sometimes he laughs, cruelly, and sometimes he curses, annoyed, and sometimes, just sometimes, he has to hide a flicker of fear in his eyes. It's enough to keep him going. [[>>|1977-24]]

All he needs is that shred of belief, that thin, impossible hope. It isn't hard to maintain it, not when the stakes are this high. Without Lupin, he could be part of a world in his own image. Catching criminals. Saving civilians. Keeping order. It must be out there somewhere. [[>>|1977-25]]

dread: random.d4 -- Sometimes, after another bungled attempt, he finds a bag of take-out hung on his office door. The rest of the order is unpacked somewhere else. [if index === false] [[>>|1984-22]] [if index === true && dread === 4] [[>>|1977dread]] [if index === true && dread != 4] [[>>|index]]

config.header.center: "1984" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- Zenigata is elbow-deep in shrimp for the next few hours. He's never going to smell normal again. He emerges victorious, however, makes off with the crown, runs through the port with deranged laughter as Lupin chases after him. [[>>|1984-24]]

He gets put on a new assignment- Not capture-Lupin, but recapture-the-world's-treasures. Sometimes he receives an anonymous tip regarding who they were sold off to. Sometimes Lupin keeps something for himself, building elaborate gadgetry unlike any security systems out there. [[>>|1984-25]]

It's fun. Of course it is. Sometimes Zenigata shows up alone, just for the challenge of it, just to study the layout in all of its little idiosyncrasies, some of them Lupin's, some targeted at his own. [[>>|1984-26]]

dread: random.d4 -- The commissioner reconsiders the advantages of letting these dangerous idiots keep each other busy. [if index === false] [[>>|2015-21-1]] [if index === true && dread === 4] [[>>|1984dread]] [if index === true && dread != 4] [[>>|index]]

config.header.center: "2015" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- The outside world keeps trying to intrude, in trays of gruel, in the brightness of the lights, in laundry collected and returned. Not least of all, in various superiors and colleagues trying to coax him into leaving. [[>>|2015-23]]

This is grotesque, they say. Zenigata's a free man. Lupin shushes them, tells them he's still asleep when, really, he just has his cock too far down his throat for him to answer. [[>>|2015-24]]

Everybody out there falls into two categories: People Zenigata doesn't respect, despises, yet works with every day of his life, and people he can never look in the eyes again. [[>>|2015-25]]

dread: random.d4 -- When something's all you have, it winds up being all you need before you even know it. [if index === false] [[>>|2023]] [if index === true && dread === 4] [[>>|2015dread]] [if index === true && dread != 4] [[>>|index]]

config.body.transition.name: "none" config.header.center: "" config.style.page.verticalAlign: "top" config.style.page.font: "Georgia/serif 64" config.style.backdrop: "#990000" config.style.page.color: "#000000 on #FFFFFF" config.style.page.link.color: "#000000" config.style.page.link.active.color: "#333333" config.style.page.link.lineColor: "#333333" config.style.page.link.active.lineColor: "#333333" config.header.center: "" -- [align center] [after 1 second; append] [[2023|2023-1]]

config.header.center: "2023" config.style.page.font: "Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- Lupin waves down at him as he's airlifted to safety, the sun behind him nearly blotting out his features. Zenigata, still out of breath after finally making it to the roof in this damn heat, watches him with one hand shielding his eyes, clenching his fist in frustration. >[[Then the bag full of jewelry rips.|2023-2]]

Lupin's grabbing after the thing as it empties, making that stupid little noise of his with so much flabberghasted fervour that he can hear it from all the way down here. Jewels fall like rain, onto the roof, into the streets, the people below screaming in a mix of alarm, at being pelted with rocks, and joy, at being pelted with expensive rocks. Zenigata raises his hand and catches a perfectly brilliant diamond out of the air. He looks down at it in his palm, then raises it to his eye. Light refracts and plays across his face in colourful gradients. Somewhere behind it, Lupin stares down at him. Zenigata grins up at him. He was, of course, the one who slashed the bag open. Wasn't enough at the time, but it must've split open under pressure. >[[He drops the diamond into his coat pocket, thoughtlessly.|2023-3]]

His thoughts, in fact, don't catch up to him until he's back in his hotel room. He sits on the edge of his bed in his dress shirt, his underwear, his sock garters, examining the thing between his fingers. He should return it. He will, tomorrow morning, when the jeweller opens back up. If he opens up at all after having the rest of his stock redistributed among the population, that is. He rolls it around in his palm, and it feels a lot heavier, a lot sharper than it is. He wonders how people can stand wearing this stuff. It really seems like it's nothing but trouble to get, to have, to keep. >[[He shivers a little.|2023-4]]

The heat radiating off the streets was oppressive, but now, finally, he sits across from an open window, the breeze of a summer night blowing into the room, across his skin. Down below, cars go by. Friends chat on the street. Somebody laughs loudly. He closes his hand around the diamond. No, he decides. He doesn't understand why so many people base their lives around these things. >[[Especially Lupin.|2023-5]]

He could do anything, couldn't he? He could be brilliant. The sky is totally clear of clouds tonight. The moon shines down on him, bright and blue, while the lights of the city blot out the stars. >[[Does Lupin ever think about it?|2023-6]]

happy: true -- Who he'd be, if he wasn't a thief? Not someone Zenigata would have much to do with, that's for sure. Zenigata probably wouldn't even be part of Interpol. Zenigata would be... >[[Happy.|2023-6-1]] >[[Unhappy.|2023-6-2]]

Why would he think that? >[[His heartbeat quickens.|2023-7]]

happy: false -- Why would he think that? >[[His heartbeat quickens. |2023-7]]

given: true -- Lupin is every fear and every joy in his life. He's everything worth hating and everything worth loving. Lupin *is* his life. Where'd the rest of him go? >[[He gave it to Lupin.|2023-7-1]] >[[Lupin took it from him.|2023-7-2]]

Maybe there never was anything else. Maybe Zenigata's the one who's taking everything he can, hoping to make up for some emptiness inside himself. >[[A drop of sweat runs down the back of his neck.|2023-8]]

given: false -- Maybe there never was anything else. Maybe Zenigata's the one who's taking everything he can, hoping to make up for some emptiness inside himself. >[[A drop of sweat runs down the back of his neck.|2023-8]]

There's the sound of something cutting through the air. For Zenigata, time slows down enough to watch the dark shape outside his window bare its teeth like something demonic, otherworldly. Then Lupin swings through his open window, crashing into him feet-first, quite clearly made of flesh and blood. Incredibly solid, really. Zenigata has the air knocked out of him as he's kicked off his bed. >[[He hisses with anger as he tries to sit up.|2023-9]]

He drops back onto the floor. Lupin picks up the perfectly ordinary diamond next to his prone form, polishes it on his jacket to examine it. Zenigata can hardly believe his eyes. "You kick me in the ribs for *one petty rock*?!" "If it's just one petty rock, then why'd you pocket it, huh?" Lupin pouts, tucking it into his jacket. "You're not moving in on my turf, are you?" "Of course not, you idiot!" He pushes himself up on his elbows, wincing with the pain. "How'd you even find out where I'm staying? Have you been trailing me?!" Lupin bends down towards him, scowling, hands in his pockets. "I know you go through my garbage," he says, dire. "I see you outside my house." He pauses. "Like a raccoon." >[[Zenigata stares up at him, open-mouthed.|2023-10]]

Lupin grabs hold of his face and Zenigata has his hands in his hair in an instant. They practically dive into each other's mouths. It's really embarrassing. It's kind of horrific. It's also incredible. Zenigata pulls him closer, runs his hands all over his chest and his back and his thighs, pushes him into the floor even as his ribs protest. This is probably another thing that wasn't always like that. Getting him alone, and every fiber of his body screaming *you have to get your tongue in his mouth, you have to get him inside you, you have to get inside him before I throw up and die*. >[[He's yet to find out if he actually would.|2023-11]]

"Ha." Lupin pulls away to speak, and Zenigata isn't thrilled about it, but he moves down to mouth at his jaw and neck out of courtesy, anyway. "I have to admit, I thought this'd be a proper trap." He scratches at his scalp, sighing. "You know, cops pouring out of your wardrobe like the clowns that they are." "Like your gang in your Fiat," he grumbles. "Like that, but lame," he says, lamely. "But since you stuck your tongue down my throat-" "That was *you*-" "I have to assume that we're really alone." He presses a kiss to his forehead. "And that you left the window open for me to come ravish you." For a moment, he isn't even sure. "It's hot as hell in here. It was just- It was just open." Lupin grins at him, sleazy. "Oh yeah? And were you feeling lonely?" [if given === false] "If I was," he says, low, "it'd be your fault." Lupin blinks. "My fault?" "So fix it," he hisses into his ear. Lupin hesitates. "There's a bed," he says. >[[It's true. There is a bed.|2023-12-1]] [if given === true] "That's just what I get," he starts, and gets as far as "for" before he reconsiders the sentence. "That comes with the territory," he course-corrects. Lupin hums. "But I can make it better, right?" >[[He has to hope so, doesn't he?|2023-12-2]]

He hauls him onto it. Lupin giggles as he bounces on the mattress. Zenigata rubs down his chest, pushing the diamond out of his inner jacket pocket and dropping it down his sleeve as he goes. Right, he thinks. It's not really *about* the diamonds. "Someone's excited," Lupin says, a little overwhelmed. He's more used to touching than being touched, and Zenigata's the only person on earth who can get Lupin out of his clothes quicker than he can, which is just kind of frightening to experience. >[[Good.|2023-13-1]]

He gets right back in there with his hands and his mouth, with his head full of sweat and stale cologne and, blessedly, absolutely nothing else. He drags his tongue across his chest and his neck and can practically feel his brain sizzling in a frying pan. His bony, wiry, hairy body moves to meet his own, and he thinks that he's never going to know another body like this one. "C'mere," Lupin says, pulls him in to kiss him again, almost recoils from the salt on his tongue, then just laughs into his mouth, pushing into it all the harder. >[[His heart leaps into his throat.|2023-14]]

Lupin guides him onto the bed, lays him down to nuzzle into his neck. He even rubs his cheek across his stubble, humming happily. Zenigata runs his hands up his chest- Maybe he lets the diamond slip from the inner pocket of his jacket into his sleeve while he's at it. Who's to say. "I was starting to think we'd never do this in a bed," Lupin muses, straddling him. He whips his jacket, tie and shirt off like he's performing a magic trick Zenigata hasn't figured out ages ago. >[[And still.|2023-13-2]]

They turn onto their side, limbs entangled, kissing deeply. It's almost- It's almost a little too romantic, isn't it? Zenigata's big stupid heart trembles, he realises, not just with love, but with fear. "I'm in love with you," he mumbles under his breath. "I know," Lupin says, kindly. He pats his cheek. "I know." "I'm in love with you." Lupin raises his other hand to his other cheek, gently jiggling his head between them. "I know that, you big puppy dog. You big pile of mush. You big... little baby boy." Zenigata's eyes flick downwards. "What does that mean for me?" "Means we can make out," Lupin shrugs. "Means we can have sex. We could even be having sex *right now*." I'm in love with you, he thinks. Every word in that sentence is uniquely terrifying. Even his ability to think it without shutting down feels like some catastrophic failure of every last self-defense mechanism. >[[A failure of the self.|2023-15]]

kissed: false held: false -- There's somebody to be in hating Lupin. There's somebody to be in chasing him, even catching him. Inspector Zenigata is the counterpart to a man with seemingly endless confidence in who he is and what he wants, his equal and his opposite. What's going to be left of him when all he has left is love? The more deeply you immerse yourself in your hatred, the more defined you become. Immerse yourself in love, and your edges start to dissolve. Love is going to drag him under. Lupin isn't going to drag him back up. He's going to hold his damn head down. >[[Maybe that's where it all has to end.|2023-16]]

config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- Lupin is his life. If there's any answers, they must be in there somewhere. > [if kissed === false; append] [[In his mouth.|2023-16-2]] [if held === false; append] [[In his hands.|2023-16-1]]

held: true -- Zenigata holds his hand, rubs his thumb across his knuckles, hairy as they are. He entwines their fingers and Lupin reciprocates, sealing their palms together. Zenigata listens for what that means, what he might do with it. {reveal link: "Really listen.", passage: "2023-16-1-1"}

kissed: true -- He kisses him, gently, and Lupin seems visibly relieved, doesn't even try to deepen it. Zenigata listens for something, anything inside himself. Is this really what he wants? Is this *all* he wants? {reveal link: "Really listen.", passage: "2023-16-2-1"}

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- It feels good. It feels warm and soft and nice. > [if kissed === true && held === true; append] >[[That's nothing new.|2023-17]] [else] >[[That's nothing new.|2023-16]]

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- He feels fond. For a moment, it feels like they're old friends. > [if kissed === true && held === true; append] >[[That's not an answer, is it?|2023-17]] [else] >[[That's not an answer, is it?|2023-16]]

config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" leave: false -- Lupin kisses his cheek. It's sweet of him. It feels a lot sweeter than anything they've ever done, anything they'd ever do. If there's an answer here, with him, he hasn't found it yet. >[[Look harder.|2023-17-1]] >[[Look elsewhere.|2023-17-2]]

A hot flash runs through his body. It just isn't enough. It never has been, not once, not even for a moment. He turns him over, seals his back against his front, and it feels so good it almost hurts. "Alright," he laughs, "but only because it's you." >[[He knows for a fact that Lupin tells everyone that.|2023-18-2]]

leave: true -- Zenigata squeezes him tight. It hurts like hell, and he only squeezes him tighter. "I'm sorry," he says, and means it from the bottom of his heart. "C'mon, Pops," Lupin chokes, no room for air in his lungs. Zenigata relents a little and he sighs with relief. "Don't be sorry," he says, patting his chest. "I don't mind, I really don't." >[[...|2023-18-1]]

[after 1 second] "C'mere. I'll make you feel better." [continue] >[[...|2023-20-1]]

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- [after 1 second] "I'll keep kissing you all night, if I have to." [continue] >[[...|2023-20-1]]

[after 1 second] "I'll come kiss you every morning. And every evening, too." [continue] >[[...|2023-22-1]]

[after 1 second] "Hey, hey. Don't cry." [continue] >[[...|2023-22-1]]

[after 1 second] "What's there to cry about, huh?" [continue] >[[...|2023-23-1]]

config.body.transition.name: "none" config.style.page.verticalAlign: "top" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 64" config.style.backdrop: "white" config.style.page.color: "white on gray" config.style.page.link.color: "white" config.style.page.link.active.color: "white" config.style.page.link.lineColor: "white" config.style.page.link.active.lineColor: "white" config.header.center: "" -- [if dream1 && dream2 && dream3 && dream4] [align center] [after 1 second; append] [[????|5-1]] [if happy === true && leave === true && !(dream1 && dream2 && dream3 && dream4)] [align center] [after 1 second; append] [[????|1-1]] [if happy === false && leave === true && !(dream1 && dream2 && dream3 && dream4)] [align center] [after 1 second; append] [[????|2-1]] [if given === true && leave === false && !(dream1 && dream2 && dream3 && dream4)] [align center] [after 1 second; append] [[????|3-1]] [if given === false & leave === false && !(dream1 && dream2 && dream3 && dream4)] [align center] [after 1 second; append] [[????|4-1]]

[after 1 second] "You should be happy." [continue] >[[...|????]]

config.header.center: "????" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" dream1: true -- "Kouichi!" Zenigata's eyes open. He's been dozing against the side of the barn, doing his best to enjoy the warmth of the setting sun and the peaceful surroundings. He has everything anyone could possibly need to become the kind of person who does that kind of thing: Straw hat, suspenders, work boots. Blade of grass between his teeth. He spits it out. "Welcome back!" he calls out to the old lady. She hobbles towards him, slowly, her basket of yarn mostly empty. He's asked her whether it shouldn't be him manning the market stall, but she just laughed in his face. She waves him off as she passes through the fence. "Did you finish up here?" "Of course!" Zenigata almost salutes. "I cleaned out the stables, shovelled more hay for the sheep, the llamas, the alpacas... Fixed that hole in the shed... I made dinner, too." "How do you like the work?" Zenigata clears his throat. "I like it fine." "It's shit. You can say it." It's an entire production for her to sit down next to him, even as he supports her by her arm. "It wouldn't be such a pain to find farmhands if it wasn't shit. Literal shit-shovelling." "It's relaxing. Mostly." Zenigata scratches his nose. "Animals don't like me. The big brown one kicked me in the stomach again." "And you're still standing?" "I shouldn't be?" She looks out into the distance. >[["I'll miss you when you're gone, Kouichi."|1-2]]

config.header.center: "????" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" dream2: true -- "Kouichi," his wife says, gently. He can't see her, but he can picture her standing behind him, one hand grasping another, worry on her face where disgust wants to be. Zenigata sits at his desk by the light of a single lamp, documents spread out in front of him. They're mostly there so he can bend forward and point to a random line, as if trying to keep his place, on an occasion like this. "What is it?" "We were so proud of you when you quit." The floorboards creak under her as she shifts her weight. "We hoped we'd get to see a little more of you." "I didn't quit. I got promoted." He did, of course, quit in every way that matters, and they both know it, too. "It's important work." "I don't ask for much," she says, slowly. >[[She used to. She used to ask for his life.|2-2]]

config.header.center: "????" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" dream3: true -- His favourite part's the plotting. That was the part that used to get pretty miserable. There'd be people knocking on his door to yell at him to do less, to do more, to tell him that it's always too much or never enough. Working with Lupin isn't like that. When it's a target they both agree on, when they get their mental cogs to interlock, hours upon hours start melting away, one thought flowing into the next, one left and one right hand working on the same set of blueprints, floor plans, history books. Zenigata doesn't sit alone. He doesn't even sit across from Lupin for very long. Most of the time, he has him in his lap, has some skin-to-skin contact, has a hand under his shirt, in his slacks, just to get an unfair advantage on some puzzle he wouldn't care the slightest bit about if he wasn't solving it with him. >[[Lupin isn't complaining.|3-2]]

config.header.center: "????" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" dream4: true -- The exhilaration of the chase is still the same, the howl of the sirens, the flashers reflected across the wet asphalt, the burning sensation in his legs, in his lungs. The company, though, that's new - Even if it still feels like he's struggling to catch up. He's always been quicker than one might expect, but never quite quick enough. He has to get mean, instead. He turns into an alley to grab a dumpster on wheels, kicks it down the street with enough force to bowl over half of the officers following him, leaving the rest to stumble over each other. From this end, it is kind of funny. It must be, because he's laughing when he merges back into the main street, when he almost, only almost reaches Lupin, and then he's laughing, too. >[[What else is there to do?|4-2]]

Zenigata presses a hand to his heartbeat, sits up and presses his lips to it. He feels it thrum against them, already overly sensitive, already thrumming with his own. He kisses him everywhere he can feel it, over his chest and up into the hollow of his throat. He closes his eyes and wraps his arms around him. He's never going to know another body like this one. >[[Makes him a little weepy.|2023-14]]

"Do you know where you're going next?" The sun burns bright red on the horizon. It might burn different colours somewhere else, some other day. Isn't it enough to get to see that? "Not really," he mumbles. "How old are you now, Kouichi?" "I'm-" He steeples his fingers over his stomach, sheepish. "I'm in my fifties." "Plenty of time to work, plenty of time." "And to live, too." "Ha!" She laughs, bitterly. "If you're lucky." >[[Zenigata does feel lucky.|1-3]]

The birds have stopped singing, leaving only the constant buzzing of cicadas. Zenigata isn't anyone. Zenigata doesn't have to be anyone to anybody. Apart from shit-shoveller, that is. Who knows what he'll be next? He's straying far away from everything he's known, willing each thing he tries to be entirely new, because, alright, maybe he treats *not* being Inspector Zenigata as its own kind of mission. >[[He takes it just as seriously as his previous assignment.|1-4]]

The old lady stirs beside him. "Let's see about that dinner, then." "I'm a good cook," he says, helping her up as she groans, with her voice, and creaks, with her bones. "I didn't know it before, but I am." "A regular catch." She dusts off her skirt. "You have a wife at home, don't you?" "No, no," he says, flustered. "Maybe someday." "Time won't wait for you on that one, Kouichi." As he stands, the sky melts into the colours of the sunset, runs into the fields like rivers of paint, drowns the crops in red and blue and yellow. >[["It's always waited so far."|wake]]

index: true config.header.center: "" config.style.backdrop: "white" config.style.page.color: "white on gray" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "none" config.style.page.link.color: "white" config.style.page.link.active.color: "white" config.style.page.link.lineColor: "white" config.style.page.link.active.lineColor: "white" -- >[[1971|1971index]] >[[1977]] >[[1984]] >[[2015]] >[[2023]]

[if index === true] [[Return to index.|index]]

config.footer.left: "{embed passage: 'indexcheck'}" config.header.center: "" config.style.page.verticalAlign: "top" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 64" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" config.style.backdrop: "teal" config.style.page.color: "white on gray" config.style.page.link.color: "white" config.style.page.link.active.color: "orange" config.style.page.link.lineColor: "orange" looked: false smelled: false questioned: false -- >[[1971|1971-1]]

config.header.center: "2023" config.style.page.font: "Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- Zenigata wakes with terrible, gut-churning fear, with the sensation of falling, with somebody reaching into his chest to catch him by the stringy, gooey ventricles of his heart, letting them stretch and snap and drop him into some indescribable nothingness. He wakes up alone. He's unsure of when he started dreaming, when he stopped. He isn't sure if Lupin was here. He isn't sure if he's ever touched him at all, if he ever will. He isn't sure who he is. > [after 15 seconds; append] [[And then he goes back to work.|index]]

[after 1 second] Do the others want to crawl inside him, too? [continue] >[[...|2023-21-2]]

config.body.transition.name: "none" -- [after 1 second] Do they sit by his side and think nothing of it? [continue] >[[...|2023-20-2]]

[after 1 second] Could he be there with them? [continue] >[[...|2023-21-2]]

[after 1 second] He knows he wasn't made for it. [continue] >[[...|2023-22-2]]

[after 1 second] Could he unmake himself? [continue] >[[...|2023-23-2]]

[after 1 second] Doesn't he have to try? [continue] >[[...|????]]

If it used to be Lupin's, then it doesn't feel like his own now. It isn't his family's, either. Somebody else must have it on hold. He can only hope they'll relinquish it the day he dies. "Just leave me alone," he whines, running his hands through his hair and across his face. It feels petulant even as he says it, feels loathsome. It isn't, though, is it? He's grieving. He's still grieving. It shouldn't be too much to ask for a little privacy. "I wish I could," she says, wistfully. "Your daughter still wants to know you, Kouichi." >[[She thinks there's anything to know.|2-3]]

"Just tell her I'm a stubborn bastard." Zenigata looks through his fingers. "Tell her I'm an idiot." "She knows that already," she says, without a hint of pity. "You'll have to think of something else." What else is there? He's still a good detective, isn't he? A decent leader, even if he asks too much of his men sometimes. She probably knows that, too - You can get that much from TV. He can't stand domesticity. He spent years convincing himself that his job took it from him, robbed him of the opportunity to be a husband and father, when really, he's been running from it. >[[She probably knew that before he did.|2-4]]

He was only ever in love once, and it killed him. Does she know that, too? The possibility alone makes him want to never see her again. It's too much. It's too terrible. It might be the only thing he can still give her. It might be all he can do for her, he thinks. Let her see him and spit in his face. His wife's hand is on his shoulder. His wife is standing at the other end of the room. >[["It's not too late," she says.|wake]]

config.style.backdrop: "white" -- *Kissing, kissing, kissing his life away, dread settled deep in his chest, coming in cold with every breath between kisses. It's only new once and then it's gone, you should have paced yourself, you should have let him run free and worked for it instead of corralling him in here to hit him again and again like piled-up deer shot dead in their enclosure.*

config.style.backdrop: "white" -- *Is it going to scar? It's only ever there when he thinks of it. He thinks of it all the time. A strip of skin that sticks burnt to the side of a bullet, a scrape, only a scrape, only the start of something, only a shovel breaking the first bit of ground.*

config.style.backdrop: "white" -- *He's going to disappear someday. He's not going to die, but he's going to disappear. Isn't that worse? Nobody grieves for you when you're gone, when you're not yourself anymore, when you've lost, when your world's ended, when you've been undone.*

config.style.backdrop: "white" -- *I would that what I love were absent from me! But love's always a mirror to preen in. Love's the only mirror there is. Without love, you might've never seen your face at all. Imagine being so lucky!*

"Anybody ever tell you that you're really clever, Zenigata?" He's kissing, nibbling at the skin behind Lupin's ear. "Not really," he stops to say. Lupin actually turns to look at him. "Really? Not even me?" Zenigata looks back at him, unimpressed. "You usually just call me old." Lupin blinks. Then, as he turns away, he lets himself smile. "Well, you've got a great head on your shoulders. I'm a big fan." He should really be long past the point where anything he says or does could make him blush. He evidently isn't. Warmth wells up in his chest. He thinks he's probably going to kiss him again. He thinks: I can just kiss him again. >[[Then the door creaks open.|3-3]]

"Seriously, Lupin," Jigen says, hands in his pockets. "Get a grip." "Y-Yeah!" Zenigata, flustered, points an accusatory finger at him. "Get a grip, Lupin!" "You too, Zenigata." He shrinks in on himself. "I thought you'd be a positive influence around here." Lupin just turns around in his lap, throwing his arms around his neck. "He is, he is! It's like sending my plans back through my own brain in reverse!" "I meant- I meant how you've been locking yourself in here. And how you haven't eaten, slept or showered." Lupin drops his chin into one hand. "You thought he'd be a positive influence on that part? Mr. Let-Me-Chase-Lupin-On-Two-Broken-Legs?" Jigen sighs. "Guess not." >[[Zenigata blushes for a different reason.|3-4]]

"What's going on with you?" Jigen muses, walking up close, way too close. "Trying to overdose?" "The man's in love, Jigen," Lupin scolds him. "Let him have this. He's repressed it long enough." Jigen's dark eyes find his own. There's something there - Maybe worry. Maybe disgust. Maybe just a question or two. Do you know what you're getting into? Do you know what you're running from? He can hear it in his head, in his voice, but his mouth- His mouth hasn't moved. Still, it keeps getting louder. >[[Do you really think this is gonna last?|wake]]

A cop car screeches around the corner to cut them off. Zenigata's replacement leans out the window, bares his teeth, raises his gun, and he could be aiming for either of them, but really, really, really, it must be- Zenigata makes a split-second of eye contact. Then he's pulled the trigger. He doesn't watch the blood soak through his shirt. He doesn't watch him collapse, the driver shaking him by the shoulders. >[[He doesn't look at Lupin as he pulls him away.|4-3]]

He lets Lupin and Jigen and even Fujiko fuss over him, lets them pull off his coat and light his cigarette and hold his hand. He eats his dinner, finally off his instant Ramen diet, and sits, quietly, in the moment after an explosion, blind and deafened. When his thoughts return to him, the first one is: He knew that officer. He'd always wanted Lupin put down like a dog. >[[What could he have done?|4-4]]

Zenigata's body is hanging out the window of a cop car. The bullet lodged itself in his chest cavity. It must've been Lupin who shot him, and he's in too much pain to look up at him, but he's dead all the same. All that's left to do is sit with the feeling. >[[He has plenty of time.|wake]]

config.header.center: "????" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- Zenigata is called to the morgue to identify Lupin's body. It's not even close to the first time, but this time, when he pulls back the sheet, he can't seem to remember what his face looks like. It's like trying to write down a pin number you've only ever felt out by muscle memory. It's his dental records, stored as pure data, less sentiment attached to them than even his shoe size, that allow him to recognise him. The inside of Lupin's mouth is cold and gummy. His teeth are sharp. >[[He asks for a moment alone.|5-2]]

One way or another, it seems like he's finally free. He wonders whether there's a way to be free without being alone. If anyone would've known, it would've been Lupin. He should've asked him about it, shouldn't he? He should've talked to him more. He always prided himself on knowing him like nobody else - on this side of the law, at least. Suddenly, he isn't sure that counts for much. He isn't sure he ever knew anything at all. >[[Did it even matter who he was?|5-3]]

He sees his dead body, and all he can think is: I'm free. I've won. I've lost. I'm dead. >[[He feels sick with shame.|5-4]]

He cradles his head in his hands, runs his thumbs over his cheekbones. "I'm not a good person," he says, where no one can hear. "Of course not." Lupin opens his eyes. >[["You think I'd like you this much, if you were?"|wake]]