Lupin III: The Silence of Ishikawa Goemon XIII by JT and Leia

[thedarlingone]

The Silence of Ishikawa Goemon XIII (23019 words) by camshaft22, thedarlingone
Chapters: 11/11
Fandom: Lupin III
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Ishikawa Goemon XIII & Jigen Daisuke, Jigen Daisuke & Zenigata Kouichi, Jigen Daisuke & Arsène Lupin III, Ishikawa Goemon XIII & Arsène Lupin III, Ishikawa Goemon XIII & Mine Fujiko
Characters: Ishikawa Goemon XIII, Jigen Daisuke, Arsène Lupin III, Zenigata Kouichi, Mine Fujiko
Additional Tags: Torture, Psychological Torture, Kidnapping, Brainwashing, Canon-Typical Violence, Lupin III Part V Typical Violence, White Room Torture, Starvation, Sleep Deprivation, Hallucinations, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Medical Experimentation, Gun Violence, Blood and Violence, Strangulation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Rescue Missions, Platonic Cuddling
Series: Part 1 of Silence
Summary: After Goemon goes missing, Jigen goes on a journey to find him.

Chapter 1

There was a quietness in the hideout.

Jigen appreciated silence, usually—it was rare enough when Lupin was around—but there was something missing. A piece out of place.

Lupin was off somewhere with Fujiko, probably getting ready to be betrayed. Those two had been cozying up again lately, so it could only be a matter of time before she revealed her true purpose.

There was something missing. An empty note, a silent tone in the chord.

Jigen slouched further into the comfortable couch and pulled his hat down further over his face, starting to doze slightly, but still alert enough to be aware of his surroundings and the location of his gun behind his hip. When you worked with someone as unpredictable as Lupin the Third, it was important to get your catnaps where you could.

He pushed his hat up again when he heard the door open. Lupin filled the doorway, looking smug as only he could, which meant he was probably planning either a new job or another harebrained scheme to get into that bitch's panties.

Jigen waited patiently to hear which it was. Patience was one of his virtues. You didn't make it as a sniper without an infinite supply of patience.

(You also definitely did not make it as Lupin III's partner without a whole 'nother infinity of patience on top of that one.)

Lupin stretched himself over his favorite chair, legs spraddled up the backrest and his body upside down on the cushions. “You know, Goemon hasn’t been here for a couple months. I wonder where he’s wandered off to?”

The smell of Lupin's cigarette was sharp in Jigen's senses as he considered it. He pulled out a cigarette of his own and lit it. "Probably sitting under a waterfall or doing sword katas," he said. "You know Goemon. He likes to train."

Lupin made an agreeing noise. Their eyes met for a second.

Jigen had been with Lupin for long enough to read his partner's ephemeral expressions, even upside down. Lupin was concerned, but not exactly worried. Still, Jigen could tell he felt there was something... off about Goemon's continued absence, and Jigen trusted Lupin's instincts perhaps even more than his own, at least when no women were involved.

Jigen gave him a fractionally longer blink and a very slight jerk of the head in answer, nothing you'd call a nod, but he knew his partner would understand. He acknowledged the concern and would do some digging around. Then he shifted his shoulders on the sofa cushions, scooting a mere fraction of an inch toward vertical, and tilted his head microscopically in the sort of gesture you used when the brim of your hat was your substitute for expressions that would normally involve eyebrows. So what's this new plan?

Lupin smiled wryly and shrugged a bit. “Fujicakes did mention something about the Beauharnais Emeralds. I’m feeling a bit lazy, though. But she would look beautiful with them, don’t you think?”

Jigen rolled partly over on the sofa, turning his back to Lupin with an exasperated sigh. "You want me to get shot at stealing something you're not even planning to keep? Count me out."

“Heh, thought you might be like that, Ji-ji.” Amusement filled his voice.

Jigen snorted fondly.

“I’d never leave us empty-handed, though. Plenty of diamonds and other jewels that need a new home. Might be fun. But Goemon would be good to have along if we have trouble from the security. I hear the museum installed a very fancy system that is just begging to be cracked,” Lupin said, starting to get actually interested.

Jigen sighed internally. He never could resist Lupin when he was like this, even if he was pretty sure all those diamonds and other jewels would wind up in Fujiko's hands along with the famous emeralds. He rolled back over to look at Lupin. "You hear something about Goemon?"

Lupin hmm'd slightly. “No. Not anything,” he said, eyebrow raised. “He didn’t go home, I know that much.”

Jigen narrowed his eyes. When Goemon wasn't hanging out with the two of them, classing up the joint with his samurai ways, he was usually to be found back near his home in Japan, refilling his zen meter or whatever it was he did there. It was odd that he wouldn't be in either place.

Also, Lupin was still harping on Goemon's absence. It must be bothering him more than Jigen had realized. "You're worried about him," Jigen said flatly. Lupin could take that as an opening to explain further, or he could leave it.

Lupin absently rubbed at his chest. "Could be. But should I be, is probably a better question."

Jigen grunted and rolled off the sofa, landing on his feet. "Fine, I'll do some asking around," he grumbled. A little smile quirked at the corner of his lip, contrasting with his put-upon tone.

"Best partner," Lupin said, looking even more pleased with himself than usual.

---

He was in a dive bar in a tiny forgotten town, a stopping place before continuing the journey. Jigen had started his fifth cigarette when the other man finally showed up. He was older, weren’t they all, but he could still see the necessary things. Jigen smirked as the man sat down to the already poured drink.

“I thought you were hanging out with a classier type these days?”

“No one said I wasn’t,” Jigen replied. What the two of them had had was ages ago yet still ageless in his skin. They were… it took time to know how bad it was for them both, but then again, it wasn’t all bad.

“I don’t know the information you want me to know, Jigen," the man said. "I wish I did. But I’m not in those circles. There’s a lot more cooperation these days, but I’m not any part of that. No one needs a has-been being old at them anymore.”

“No respect left,” Jigen agreed, leaning close to light his cigarette.

The man chuckled. “I have missed this. We were stupid. But your target… it’s beyond my reach. I thought the two of you were thick?”

“Only sometimes. Sometimes not. I’m just looking around,” Jigen said with a loose shrug. The two of them drank together, memories of work and fun blurring into its own haze. There was a slight hesitation in the man's eyes that Jigen raised an eyebrow at.

“Never hesitate, am I right? If I were you,” the man said. There was a wistfulness there. “If I were, I wouldn’t look around here anymore. They cleared out as soon as they snatched him. Favors cashed in and silenced. He might be out of your reach.”

Jigen took in the warning and nodded. “For now,” he allowed.

“For now. Take care of yourself, eh? You get killed doing this, I’ll laugh at your wake.”

“Perfect excuse, right?” Jigen countered, slipping out of his seat.

---

It was white for miles.

There was a silencing effect wherever he was. Goemon felt adrift and it was hard to focus. He had been drugged, then. His thoughts were unclear. It was hard to think. He breathed in and out but couldn't even hear that.

This was the sort of torture meant to keep him alive. For how long, he wouldn’t know until it came. But it was so white.

Goemon meditated, sinking into himself and remaining aware of the soundless horizon. He thought he felt Zantetsuken in his hand and was grounded.

This was far from over.

Chapter 2

Jigen stretched and lounged back in his chair, looking at his department-issue laptop. He was undercover at the ICPO, in one of their smaller offices. Specifically, one that held part of the Organized Crime Taskforce.

As far as he could tell, his ID was airtight. He thought he sensed Fujiko's fine hand in some of the details. He might hate the woman's guts, but he had to admit her covers were outstanding.

Lupin would have been absolutely creaming himself to have this level of access to their enemy's files, but all Jigen wanted to do was find the information he needed and get out. He could leave everything else as he found it. Although...

Hm. Maybe just a few notes on some of ICPO's less savory targets. Point a little of that unwanted attention their way, and give himself a bit of a break from the frustrating search at the same time. It wasn't like those assholes didn't deserve it.

Sighing, he pulled a few more references and settled down to read, tugging his plain black baseball cap down over his eyes.

Some time later, a large shadow loomed over him. He stopped his hand halfway to his hip; his Magnum wasn't there. He was wearing a 9mil in a shoulder holster instead. But he was supposed to be a cop, so he shouldn't pull his gun inside the office building anyway.

He looked up. Fuck. What the hell was Pops doing here? This department didn't have anything to do with Lupin. Fuck.

"Can I help you? Sir?" Jigen asked, playing the dumb rookie.

"Daisuke Jigen," Inspector Zenigata growled in what he probably thought was a whisper. The old man really didn't have an indoor voice, did he. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't arrest you right now." He wiggled the handcuffs on his belt meaningfully.

Jigen weighed his options quickly. Unless Lupin was sneaking around keeping tabs on him from backstage, which wasn't really Lupin's style most of the time, he was on his own. He probably couldn't count on an easy escape. "Hi, Pops," he replied, giving in. "I'm not here to cause trouble, I swear. Goemon's been missing for a few months now and..." Fuck. It had been so long. "This is my last lead."

Zenigata frowned and sat down heavily on the edge of the desk. "You don't think Interpol has him, do you?" he asked, looking dubious.

Jigen shook his head. "No. You would have heard. But maybe someone saw it happen," he said. "Saw him get snatched, didn't understand. If the payoffs didn't reach too high. There... there could be a note, a clue..." Saying it out loud made his heart sink. It was so far-fetched. But there was nothing else. He'd exhausted every single underworld contact he had.

Zenigata nodded. "Someone would have to be either really stupid or really vengeful to go after Ishikawa," he said. "I hope..." He held out one of his big square hands. "I hope you're not too late. Good luck."

Jigen took the proffered hand and shook it, rather hesitantly. He half expected to feel metal snap shut around his wrist, but Zenigata played fair.

"Thanks, Pops," Jigen said when his hand was free again. "I have a feeling I might need it. If you're not busy..." Why was he even considering this? Except that he needed help. He was getting nowhere on his own.

(He hadn't been this much on his own in a damn long time. Not that he wasn't checking in with Lupin, but Lupin was busy playing a different angle—the spiderweb of high-level bosses, trying to find the organization itself. None of Lupin's efforts had turned up anything on Goemon's whereabouts yet either. As far as Jigen understood it, the stuff Lupin was doing right now couldn't directly locate Goemon, just the people who'd ordered him snatched. It was a level of the game Jigen didn't play. Couldn't play, didn't want to. Didn't need to, with Lupin on the job. But it meant the boots-on-the-ground stuff, Jigen's role, had gotten pretty isolated.)

"Maybe you'd be willing to take a look at the case?" he asked. Felt weird, asking anyone but Lupin to go over his notes like that, let alone Pops. But Goemon needed every damn scrap of help Jigen could pull together for him.

Zenigata nodded. "I'll be happy to help. We can go over what you've found out. Maybe over lunch?"

"Lunch sounds good," Jigen said. "I know this little place down the block that does some great steamed buns." They'd had enough temporary truces with Zenigata over the years that he figured he could trust the man that far. Or he could get his ass parked in a prison cell and Lupin would have to come get them both back, like some kind of twisted House that Jack Built. This is the thief who went after the gunman who tracked the swordsman who disappeared into the house that Pops built.

It definitely needed to be lunchtime.

---

Zenigata watched Jigen suspiciously as they strolled down the street together. The gunman was dressed much more casually than his usual, in jeans and a layered shirt look. His collarless thermal undershirt had a couple of buttons open at the neck, and the sleeves of his unbuttoned overshirt were pushed up casually, showing his wiry brown forearms. His black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, while a black baseball cap hooded his eyes. He'd even made a halfhearted effort to disguise his beard, shaving or covering his sideburns and trimming the scraggly ends of the resulting goatee.

None of it had worked, because Zenigata had seen that familiar zigzag profile through the door—the slouching shoulders, the pulled-down angle of the hat, the nose and beard jutting from under it—and just known. He'd been on the Lupin case long enough that he didn't go by details when he saw one of those silhouettes anymore. And he'd been right.

The man seemed sincere enough about his motives, but... Goemon? Really? It was hard to imagine the samurai getting snatched. He was more likely to carve his way through a regiment of yakuza without getting out of breath.

Hell, move for move, Goemon was probably by far the most dangerous of the Lupin gang. Jigen was deadly enough in his own way, but he had one very large blind spot named Lupin the Third. Zenigata hadn't had the impression Goemon ever let his guard down.

"Any idea how they got the drop on him?" Zenigata asked, still fairly quietly, for him.

Jigen shook his head. "No. I keep hitting blank walls. No one knows enough on my side of the street. Someone cashed in a lot of favors to keep this thing quiet. And they disappeared fast. Almost too fast. It's not making sense."

"So you decided to see if law enforcement knew anything the underworld didn't," Zenigata summed up. "You got your casefile with you?"

"Such as it is," Jigen said with a slight shrug. He reached slowly behind himself with his left hand, right hand up in an I swear I'm not about to shoot you pose, and pulled a notebook out of his hip pocket. "See, I'm not even planning to steal the department laptop when I leave. Everything I'm taking with me is in here."

Zenigata chuckled quietly. "Fair enough," he admitted. They turned into the little sidewalk cafe and got themselves a table. Jigen dropped the notebook on the table between them and slouched down into his chair, lighting a cigarette.

Jigen wasn't even smoking his usual brand, Zenigata realized in surprise. He'd been so meticulous with this disguise. It was almost a shame Zenigata had spotted him immediately.

His eyes went over the notes, carefully organized in Jigen's neat English block printing—right, the gunman was American-born, of course he wrote in English for notes he didn't expect anyone else to read. While Zenigata read through the casefile, Jigen chatted with the waitstaff and even ordered for them and paid the bill, his usual antisocial attitude nowhere to be seen. Zenigata was mostly focused on the case, but he couldn't help making a mental note.

"So the last time anyone actually saw Ishikawa was about three months ago at your hideout?" he asked, more making conversation than needing to confirm what was written down.

Jigen's expressive mouth twisted. "Yeah, he disappears sometimes. Here one day and gone the next. Takes a job, goes back to Japan to sit under a waterfall, whatever. Just takes a break from Lupin, maybe." A half smile quirked his lips.

"Nothing out of the ordinary in his room?"

Jigen shrugged, huffed a short laugh. "Who can tell? It's him, Zantetsuken, and maybe a change of loincloth. Didn't take his futon or anything, but he never does."

A waiter came over and dropped off their orders of steamed pork buns, along with drinks. Jigen tipped the man, then started nibbling at a bun, looking like he didn't have much appetite but was forcing himself to eat.

Zenigata tried one of the buns as well. It was really very good. He was starting to believe Jigen's story. The weight on the gunman's tired shoulders seemed genuine. And there was some indefinable... something in the man's angles of attention, the sightlines he was keeping track of, the way his alertness seemed less split than usual. Zenigata couldn't have explained it aloud, but he knew Lupin wasn't hanging around here right now. Jigen wasn't watching anybody else's back.

"So he was just gone for a month or two, and then Lupin mentioned he was still missing?" Zenigata continued. Of course it would be Lupin! The man counted his people over like the rest of his treasures. Greedy bastard.

Jigen took a long drag on his cigarette before answering. "Just under two months," he confirmed. "Yeah, I... I mean, he's so private. Never really occurred to me to question where he was." He scrubbed his hand over his face. "Makes a guy feel like a bad friend, you know?"

Zenigata carefully kept his face neutral. In the normal course of work, the only conversation he usually got out of Jigen was cursing and glares. It was... interesting, how easy the man was to read when he was actually talking, even with his eyes hidden.

Of course, Jigen must also be emotionally exhausted from the last month of searching and worrying about his friend, if he was revealing this much of himself to someone who was barely an ally. Well... who else could the man turn to? Not Lupin, not with this kind of self-doubt. Zenigata knew the mind of Lupin Sansei possibly better than anyone else alive except Jigen himself, and Lupin was not a man who had ever met with a lack of confidence or the idea that anybody else might have a boundary he should respect.

Nor could Jigen turn to the missing Goemon. And it was well known that the gunman had never had a remotely cordial relationship with Fujiko Mine.

"I'm sure he appreciates having someone around who doesn't constantly pry into his personal life," Zenigata said reassuringly. These people's social circle was so small. How did they even function? We're not friends, he reminded himself, paging through more of the brief dossier.

Jigen brushed away the offered comfort with a terse nod. "Anyway, Lupin found out Goemon wasn't home in Japan," he said. "That's about all we got. He might be in Japan by now, god only knows, but..." One bony shoulder jerked in an awkward shrug. "We think he was snatched pretty fast, 'cause there's no trace where he went if he was on his own. Ain't much of a lead."

"You're not eating your food," Zenigata said, a bit sternly. "You need to keep up your strength."

Jigen took off his ball cap, pulled out his ponytail, and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked oddly naked and vulnerable with his eyes visible. "Tell me straight, Pops," he said, meeting Zenigata's gaze. "Is Goemon dead?"

Zenigata looked down at the last few notes. The minimal, scratchy records of a month on the hunt, all boiling down to nobody knowing anything. At all. Like a weapon wiped clean of fingerprints—an emptiness that meant someone had cleared away the evidence.

"I honestly don't think so," he said finally, looking up to meet Jigen's eyes again. "Somebody went to a lot of work to cover this up. My instincts say nobody puts in that much effort if they're just trying to hide a corpse." He tapped the cover of the notebook thoughtfully. "How long they plan on keeping him alive, or for what purpose, I don't know. But they didn't just grab him and kill him, I'd bet my handcuffs on it."

Jigen's shoulders sagged. He put his cap back on and crossed his arms over his chest. "Thank you," he said softly. "I... that means a lot to me."

"You need to get him back, Jigen," Zenigata said kindly. "So I can arrest the three of you properly."

"Gotta have the whole set," Jigen agreed with an almost wistful smile. "I guess that means I should get back to it."

"No, actually," Zenigata said, frowning at Jigen's half-eaten steamed bun. "You're barely eating. You don't look like you've slept. You're running on cigarettes and stubbornness." He knew Jigen didn't do detective work much. That was more Lupin's purview. Jigen was making the classic rookie mistake, getting swept away in the job, risking burnout. "How long has it been since you actually thought about anything besides this case?"

Jigen's lounging shoulders took on a sullen angle, like a teenager being called on the carpet. "He's waiting for me," he muttered, twisting his forefinger through a lock of hair by his cheekbone.

"I know it's rough," Zenigata agreed. "I'm not diminishing that. But you won't get anywhere without rest and fresh eyes." He finished his food. "He's still fighting. I have faith in that. There's few stronger. He'll be there when you find him. But it'll be easier if you have enough strength to keep your own head in the game."

Jigen sighed raggedly. "I... I've already taken up too much of your time," he said with a hesitant softness around his mouth.

"I'll be here for a while," Zenigata said. "Not that you should advertise the fact. I'm here consulting on another case. Nothing to do with Lupin—something I actually worked before I started chasing him. I'll be happy to help you filter through the fog. After you eat your food and get some rest."

It was fascinating how Jigen could convey the sentiment of rolling his eyes when you couldn't actually see his eyes at any point in the slight head movement. "Yes, sir," Jigen said wryly, starting to work on his half-eaten bun.

Zenigata flipped through the notebook one more time while Jigen finished his meal. Nothing new jumped out at him. "I'll make your excuses at the office," he said, handing the notebook back. "Go get some sleep. Will I see you in the morning?"

Jigen took a deep breath and sat up, squaring his shoulders. It was an odd look on his rangy frame. "Yeah," he said. "I appreciate it, Pops. Thanks for taking the time."

"Anything I can do to get the three of you back in the same place," Zenigata said, smiling a little. "The food here was very good, by the way. I'll remember this place."

"Figured it was the least I could do in exchange for bending your ear," Jigen said. He stood up. "With all due respect, Pops, I don't think I'll let you walk me home."

Zenigata chuckled. "Understandable," he agreed. "Get some rest, Jigen. I'll see you later."

---

Goemon couldn't meditate. His hands were empty and his body shook. Zantetsuken was gone.

The sword is the soul of the samurai. How was it taken from him? No memories rose. Wrenched from his hands or simply evaporated. Had he ever truly held it within this whiteness?

His soul was gone. They took it from him! He was shamed. Disgraced. Worthless. He was nothingness without it. He couldn't stop shaking—he wasn't sure he could breathe. The entire world was white and soundless, stifling him.

He was going to kill them. He was going to kill them all.

Goemon had lost his soul. The cell was large and small and his thoughts were frantic, ashamed, swirling, horrible. Zantetsuken was missing.

Chapter 3

Zenigata finished up his work on the case he was actually consulting on, and emailed it to the lead detective. He was impressed by the young man's talent. How old he was, being consulted on cases he'd worked on years ago! Still, it was good to actually see his hard work pay off.

There was a slight knock on the door. "Inspector?" Jigen asked, holding up a carrier with two to-go cups of coffee. He was wearing a different outfit than yesterday, but in a similar casual style, with the same ball cap, and he had his laptop under his other arm. "I brought you some coffee."

Zenigata raised an eyebrow mischievously. Jigen flashed a scowl at him in return. Well, if the coffee was full of something, he'd get some extra sleep. It felt a little odd that Jigen was playing to his cover, but it was also smart. And so far, the only changes Jigen seemed to have made to Interpol's files were notes that looked beneficial.

"Shall we get started, then?" Zenigata asked mildly.

Jigen set down the two cups of coffee on the desk. "Pick one," he said, giving Zenigata a slightly disdainful look from under his cap.

Zenigata huffed a laugh. "I'm sure you understand my hesitation," he said, picking a cup. He took a long sip of the coffee, testing the quality. Jigen had decent taste.

Jigen took the other cup of coffee and sat down, slouching with his limbs askew as usual. He put his feet up on Zenigata's desk, ankles crossed, and opened his laptop. "I pulled all the files from the two months between when I last saw Goemon and when Lupin pointed out he was missing. None of the basic searches I was able to run turned up anything, so I've just been..." He shrugged awkwardly and trailed off.

"Digging through one case at a time?" Zenigata said. It showed the kind of stubborn patience he'd expect from a sniper like Jigen. "Sounds familiar. But I think we can narrow it down a little more." He opened up a new window on his own laptop. "My partner put together a search program for me a while back. He's a smart young man. It correlates several factors—I don't really understand all the details, and you can understand why I wouldn't tell you if I did, but it's designed to find the places where Lupin's work is hiding between the lines of our reports. I'm hoping it can also flag where Goemon's disappearance might be hiding."

Jigen chuckled wryly. He definitely seemed to be in a better mood today. "I'll email you the set of files I have," he said, his fingers flying over the keyboard. "Pretty fancy, the kind of tech we have nowadays. I got used to doing things the old-fashioned way, but you know how Lupin is about the latest gadgets. Had to learn to keep up."

Zenigata opened the email and set up the script to run through the set of files. "This is going to take a little while to run the search," he said.

“That’s fine,” Jigen told him. “We just need to find him.” He reached for his shirt pocket, then stopped. "Damn it, you guys have smoke alarms in here, don't you? Trouble with working on your side of the law."

Zenigata chuckled wryly. "There's nothing quite like a smoke to kill some time," he agreed. "You can step outside if you need to."

Jigen flashed him a lopsided grin. "Think you can let me off the leash for that long?"

Zenigata smirked. "As long as I still have something you want? Yes." The smirk broadened into a smile. "Besides, you'll hardly be out of my reach."

"The long arm of the law, huh, Pops?" Jigen barked a short laugh. "Don't worry, I'll behave myself." He tipped his chin up, showing one eye just long enough to toss Zenigata a wink, then got up and ambled out of the office.

"Has to happen sometime," Zenigata muttered. It was... odd to be working with one of Lupin's people. Interesting, but odd.

From an outside perspective, he should have slapped the cuffs on Jigen as soon as he found the man poking around in a departmental laptop he definitely hadn't gotten via the usual processes. If it had been a garden-variety intruder, he would have.

But... after years of hunting the Lupin gang, he knew them almost as well as they knew themselves. He was convinced by now that Jigen was telling the truth as he knew it; Zenigata would stake his badge on that. In a very real sense he was staking his badge on it. If he was caught sharing information with a known criminal, a known associate of the man he was charged to catch...

But it was the right thing to do. Anyone powerful enough to even lay a finger on Ishikawa was dangerous. Any organization that could also wipe out their tracks this way... there was a solid chance this investigation could lead him to uncovering something Interpol would be very interested in. From that perspective, Jigen was a valuable source. And...

...and he just didn't want the Lupin gang to lose their samurai. As much of a pain in the ass as Goemon and his might-as-well-be-magic sword could be, there'd be something missing if they couldn't get him back.

Zenigata looked at the screen and saw that his search program had finished running. The long list of case reports to go through was much shorter now, down to maybe ten. Something the two of them could easily handle.

He stood and stretched for a moment, wondering if Jigen had finished his smoke break yet or if he should go find him. They had work to do!

---

Jigen wandered back in a few minutes later. "Hey, Pops," he said, draping himself sideways into the wheeled office chair with one long leg hooked over the back and the other over the arm. "How's it going?"

Zenigata smiled. "Good news. It narrowed down the list to ten reports. I know you wanted my help, and I'd be happy to continue, but would you prefer to take it from here? I've already sent the new list to your department email."

Jigen chewed on his lower lip for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. Zenigata saw his other hand move toward the packet of cigarettes in his shirt pocket again, then stop. He could practically hear the wheels turning. Jigen wasn't a man who spent most of his time thinking over tough ethical decisions.

"You're an honorable man, Pops," Jigen finally said, slowly. "I... it's been good working with you. But you've already bent the rules far enough for me." He glanced up for the barest moment, letting his dark eyes be seen under the brim of his cap, sincere appreciation on his face. "Interpol can tackle the cleanup, what Lupin leaves behind anyway. I'll get you the information once we're out. But—" His mouth shut down into a long, hard line for a moment. "You don't want to be there when I am."

“Understood," Zenigata said. Having a policeman watching his back would only cramp Jigen's style. Hopefully there'd be at least enough left to pick up the pieces. "See if you can leave me some reasonable evidence while you're at it. They've kidnapped at least one man, and I'm sure have done far worse."

Jigen disentangled himself from the chair and stood up. A smile flickered at one corner of his mouth for an instant. "You got it."

Zenigata stood up as well and offered Jigen his hand one more time. "Good luck, Mr Jigen. I wish there was more I could reasonably do."

There was a moment's silence between them. They weren't friends, not even allies, but Zenigata found that he respected Jigen for his dedication to his quest.

Jigen shook Zenigata's hand firmly, patting his shoulder with his free hand. "You're a good man, Inspector. One of the best." He picked up his laptop and sauntered out the door, not looking behind him.

Zenigata sat down again and sighed. Long habit made him check his back for a taunting note, but Jigen hadn't played any of Lupin's tricks on him. "Good luck," Zenigata murmured again, hoping it would be enough.

---

Goemon was losing himself.

The soundless white void surrounded him. There was no rest. Time was meaningless and disjointed. He no longer knew what was happening. Old wounds hurt as if they healed wrong. He felt exhausted in a way he almost never did.

He looked up into the endless blank whiteness. He ached to see anything but white. To hear something, anything at all, even his own breathing.

Where were they? Where was Lupin? Why was it taking so long? He didn't know how long, but it felt like a long time. Were they even looking for him? Lupin... Lupin would look for him, right? Not just throw him away? He'd been captured. Disgraced. He was shaking. When did that start? Did Lupin have need of him any longer? Or had he been discarded?

Jigen... Jigen was a loyal friend. He should be here by now. But Jigen trusted Lupin, beyond sanity, beyond life or death. If Lupin denied him to rescue Goemon, Jigen would obey. And Fujiko was just the opposite—a friend, but not one who would come for him like this.

He wished he hadn't been forsaken. He knew he was his own sort of man, aloof, detached, but... they were his comrades. Or so he'd thought.

Why had he been abandoned?

Chapter 4

Jigen sat cross-legged by the cliff edge, going over each of his weapons in turn one last time—cleaning, loading, clicking safeties on until needed.

His target loomed off the beach below: a rocky island, joined to the mainland by a straight-line causeway. A striking-looking office complex covered the round island, modern in gleaming glass and steel, each off-angled rotunda capped with graduated shallow domes of glistening deep blue, now flushed with copper in the light of the setting sun. The place looked... not like a very formal pile of soap bubbles, it was far too structured for that, but like its architect might have started from a blown-glass sculpture of soap bubbles as inspiration.

It was a fake. Jigen hadn't gotten a good look inside yet, but any shift change should turn that skinny causeway into a traffic jam worthy of Tokyo or New York. He hadn't seen or heard such a thing in the twenty-four hours since he'd arrived. Whatever lay inside the complex, it wasn't your standard gaggle of office workers.

He never would have found the place without Zenigata's information. This strip of inhospitable land between two obscure Southeast Asian countries wasn't so much disputed as unwanted and mostly uninhabited. The island off the coast didn't officially belong to anyone—the perfect place for a corporation that didn't exist.

Inside those glass-domed buildings lay the organization that had taken Goemon Ishikawa the Thirteenth. Jigen didn't know much about them or their goals yet. He did know that Goemon himself, if he was still anywhere on this earth, was hidden inside as well.

Jigen stowed the last of his heavyweight machinery in his gym bag. Most of that was intended for getting them out. He didn't kid himself that he could sneak Goemon unnoticed out of a captivity that had held the man for three months. Lupin might be able to do it, but Lupin wasn't here yet. Jigen didn't know when or if Lupin could get here; last he heard, Lupin wasn't sure himself. Jigen wasn't planning to wait.

He pulled out his phone for a moment and scrolled through his recent text messages to Lupin, mostly reconnaissance photos. Every angle of the island he'd been able to get from shore without being caught, every piece of information he'd noticed that might prove useful.

Jigen set his phone aside and checked his belt, making sure the mini parachute rig was firmly attached. He'd rather not have to use it—parachuting while being shot at was a pain in the ass, and it'd be worse if he couldn't shoot back around an armful of possibly injured samurai. Still, the office complex's rocky island had a steep stone wall and some dramatic enough cliffs that he might be glad he had it along. He checked his watch as well, twin to Lupin's with a similar wire rig inside, for the same reason.

Traditional Japanese food was short on options you could pack easily into a Western-style suit, even one as thoroughly custom tailored as Jigen's, which sported nearly a dozen well-hidden pockets. "Damn picky eater," Jigen muttered fondly, making sure he had the assortment of food bars and energy cubes he'd picked out. Goemon probably wasn't being fed well, if at all. Hopefully he'd be willing to eat what Jigen could bring him.

Bandages. A tiny suture kit. A carefully capped hypodermic containing a stimulant shot, just in case Goemon had been sedated to keep him compliant. Using it would be risky as hell, considering Jigen wouldn't know what exactly Goemon had been dosed with, but... well, Goemon was a good several inches taller than Jigen and packed a lot more muscle bulk onto his sturdy frame. There was no way Jigen could carry him all the way out. He needed Goemon able to at least trudge along leaning on his rescuer.

Jigen checked his Magnum, making sure it was fully loaded and ready to go, and slipped it into its holster under the back of his suit jacket. Then he looked over his final two weapons.

He was going to have to get close to his enemies on this one. He didn't know where Goemon, Zantetsuken, or any of the indoor guard posts were located. Silent, careful attrition had to be the name of the game until he could get into the organization's records—or at least, for as long as he could avoid being spotted. As soon as he had to fire a shot, things were going to get a whole lot more complicated.

He drew the hefty hunting knife from its sturdy leather sheath and looked it over. It was paper-sharp, and sturdy enough to split a silver dollar in half, the way Jigen had once seen it done in a Western.

He didn't like close-range fighting. He was a marksman by talent and preference. It took a certain type of personality to make a good sniper or a good quick-draw pistol fighter. Jigen was the best of the best at both those disciplines, and while his training and talent shouldn't be discounted, he also had the innate qualities that had set him and kept him on that path.

Oh, he was reliable with his fists, and he could deal pretty solid damage with the butt of a rifle or any other improvised club. But when given a choice, he'd always rather be working at range. That wasn't going to be an option today.

He didn't consider himself a knife fighter. He was competent, and he could throw a knife just as well as any other projectile, but a real close-in knife fighter was a completely different being. Either they liked the stealthy precision of it, as Goemon did with his sword work, or... well, a lot of them liked the blood. Jigen wasn't exactly one to claim that anybody in the hitman trade was a poster boy for mental health, but give him the antisocial patience of a fellow sniper any day over a knife man who was in it to decorate the walls.

He sheathed the knife again, strapped it to his right thigh, and picked up his final weapon, a fine wire garrote. He ran it through his fingers for a moment, giving it a dubious look.

Garrote killers, any kind of stranglers, were sickos, man. He'd never met one he'd turn his back on. They were in the business for one thing and one thing only: the rush of power it gave them to choke the life out of another being with their own hands. The cackling ones, at least, you could hear coming. They were honest about it. He'd met a few, though... well. Short version—knife men and machine gun types, guys who enjoyed drama, often liked working for the mafia. Stranglers, though? Those fuckers preferred law enforcement.

But it couldn't be helped. He needed something silent that wouldn't leave any traces, and Lupin's sleeping gas didn't last long enough to let him get in and out with Goemon before anyone could wake up to sound the alarm.

He could do it. Had done it, when necessary. There were reasons he even owned a garrote. For Goemon, he'd do it all over again. He just... he just really fucking hoped, if he ever snapped and turned into one of those guys who liked it, that Zenigata would have the balls to put him down for good.

Well, depending on how many guards he ran into in there—by the end of this, he might well have either turned into one of those guys, or proved to himself that he never would.

Tucking away the garrote into his breast pocket, he picked up his phone and wrote a brief final text to Lupin.

Hey partner, I'm going in. Turning off my phone now so it doesn't blow my cover. Wish me luck if you see this.

Good luck, partner came the response, quick as thought. That was a good sign. Jigen smiled slightly as he turned off his phone.

---

The first obstacle was simple: how to get into the complex. The front door was out of the question. It was bait, plain and simple, a trap for any unsuspecting travelers who might try to visit. Even if it were to open for him, it wouldn't lead anywhere good.

It was a good thing a thief knew how to make his own doors. Jigen wasn't quite an infiltration expert on Lupin's level, but he was maybe half a step behind, the same way Lupin's quick-draw and accuracy of fire were overmatched only by Jigen's own and those of a few other top gunmen in the world.

Jigen took the causeway most of the way in, but not the way its designers had intended. He had much of Lupin's burglary equipment from their nearest safehouse with him, and he knew how to use it. He was wearing his own boots with no explosive gadgets in the soles, thank you very much, but with a pair of Lupin's rock-climbing crampons strapped over them, and he had a pair of the grippy rock-climbing claw gloves Lupin liked to use on his hands.

The causeway was easy, honestly. The top part was all sleek modern metal and glass and asphalt, but most of its bulk was simply an ancient structure of earth and stone, built by long-ago hands, and its sides weren't quite sheer. Jigen worked his way along, not too fast, saving his energy, as the stars started to come out overhead. Except for the unease of wearing a glove he couldn't shoot in on his gun hand, it was a comfortable little climb. He practically could have had a smoke on the way, if he'd felt like Lupin's kind of grandstanding.

Soon, the ancient stone outer walls of the complex loomed over him. Perching carefully on the causeway side, out of sight from the lights and cameras around the giant front gates, Jigen removed the rock-climbing glove from his right hand and tucked it away. Lupin would probably have made the next move still wearing both gloves, which was frankly smarter—Jigen would have maybe half a second to regret needing it if he slipped, before he stopped regretting anything at all—but there were a couple of guard stations along the walls, so just in case he was noticed, Jigen much preferred to have his gun hand free. He leaned against the embankment for a moment and made sure one more time that the gym bag sitting snugly across his back, right shoulder to left hip, didn't interfere with the familiar quick-draw motion of the gun holstered over his right buttock.

Perfect. Carefully aiming upward in the gloom, Jigen triggered the wire rig in his wristwatch. Between the faint sounds of the waves and the breeze, he probably only imagined that he heard the incredibly soft clink of the wire's weighted end landing. He gave a gentle tug to make sure it was properly seated, then flipped the retractor setting and let himself soar upwards.

He rolled easily upward onto the edge of the complex wall—thank fuck, no pressure sensors went off. That could have been a real problem, and one he couldn't have predicted from shore. There was no reaction from the spaced-apart guard posts, either; they didn't have great sightlines, due to the place's office-complex disguise. For the same reason, as he already knew from his preliminary scouting, there was no barbed wire, no real guard patrols; hell, the place didn't even have the sort of institutional floodlights mounted high on poles around the perimeter that would have given Jigen away the second his head popped over the wall.

Jigen knew better than to get complacent. He still had a long way to go. But he smiled, very slightly, as he tucked away the other rock-climbing glove. Next, he slipped a sniper scope out of his shirtsleeve. Still lying nearly flat on top of the wall, holding his hat in place with one hand, he began carefully scanning the complex below, adding details to his mental map.

He was pretty sure he needed to aim for somewhere near the middle. A prisoner could be housed either there or at the back over the sheerest of the cliffs, but before he went directly after Goemon, Jigen really needed to find out where Zantetsuken was being kept. Rescuing the samurai but not his sword was just asking for another round of "try to keep Goemon from committing honorable suicide for failing in his duties", which hadn't happened in a long time, but Jigen would be much happier if it continued not being an issue.

His easiest route inside would be over the roofs and walls, staying low to keep from being silhouetted against the lights glowing through the glass. However, he also had to think about getting out.

Jigen mentally traced the best rooftop route away from the likely prisoner holding areas, making note of how much physical strength and balance would be required at each step. If they were incredibly lucky, if Goemon was in the best shape possible after three months of captivity, and if Jigen managed to crack the actual holding cell without tripping any alarms, then... maybe. There were very specific factors that would make such an escape possible. Factors he couldn't count on.

Time to clear a path, then.

Chapter 5

Getting back out through the outer wall, eventually, would be a problem for either Zantetsuken or a grenade. He'd get there when he got there. First things first.

Jigen lowered himself silently down to the ground inside the complex on his wire rig, then gave the wire a flip that shook it loose from the wall above. Standing in the shadow of the wall, he reeled the wire back into his watch, choosing his angle of approach.

There—one of the darkened office rooms that branched off the brightly lit corridors, next to a ground-floor door that looked like it had probably started life as a fire exit. Jigen could see a guard standing near the interior door, some way down the lighted hallway. That would be his next target.

Jigen inched quietly up to the full-length plate glass that formed the wall of the dark office and knelt next to it. He grimaced a little as he fished around up the ankle of his trousers before producing the item he wanted: one of Lupin's glass cutters, a fairly long one. He set the radius size as large as it would go, affixed the suction cup to the window glass near the ground, and carefully started cutting.

Once he had the large circle of plate glass safely removed and the glass cutter tucked away again, Jigen removed his gym bag from his back and carefully slid it through the hole into the room. He pushed it aside so it wasn't blocking his path, careful not to let anything inside clank and attract attention. Then, with one arm over his head and the other shoulder tucked down to make himself narrower, he eased his own lanky frame through the hole.

Thankfully, he fit. He wasn't sure what he would have done if he hadn't. He didn't have Lupin's hypermobility to work with, the rubbery way Lupin could dislocate his limbs and squeeze through impossible corners like the octopus he detested. When Jigen dislocated a joint it put him out of commission for ages. At least I don't have Fujiko's curves, he thought wryly, imagining Fujiko stuck halfway through the glass, and bit back a silent chuckle.

Anyway, time to get to work. Jigen slid the garrote from his breast pocket and uncoiled it, flipping it like a small skipping rope between his hands for a moment to get the weight of it. This was going to be a little tricky with the need to open the door, but nothing he couldn't handle. He briefly considered making a noise to draw the guard's attention, then discarded the idea; he couldn't afford to have anybody call in an alarm.

Slowly, silently, Jigen eased the door back toward him. From behind the guard, not letting a breath or a shadow give him away, he flipped the garrote wire neatly into a loop around the man's throat and yanked it tight. It was a quick, silent death, just like he knew it would be—no blood spread around, no time to cry out, the jerking and struggling not loud enough to draw attention. Jigen caught the body as it sagged, hauled it carefully into the darkened office, and closed the door as gently as he'd opened it.

Hat, shirt, pants. He put away the garrote, then stripped the body tidily and set aside the uniform and keycard. Took a minute to check in with himself. He felt okay. The slow precision of the climb had helped settle and focus him. All he was really feeling right now was his steady determination to make his way to Goemon and protect him. That was good. That was the way it was supposed to be.

Jigen shoved the corpse under a desk in one of the cubicles that filled the big room. It looked like the place had actually been furnished as an office complex at some point, god knew why. Oh well, handy for him. More furniture meant more places to keep bodies out of sight.

He eyed the uniform for a second, frowning. Only two shirt pockets and four trouser pockets. He had room for his suit and hat in the bottom of the duffle bag, but he really didn't want to waste time rearranging his carefully stashed gear. At least it seemed like the uniform was designed to be pretty baggy; the man he'd stripped it off of was much leaner than the bulk of the fabric implied.

Getting at his tools through an extra layer of fabric would be... awkward, but the most critical, his Magnum, would have to sit in the back waistband of the uniform trousers, whether he was wearing his suit underneath the uniform or not. Jigen wasn't willing to compromise his quick draw in the name of subtlety. He'd just have to make sure no one saw him from the back, that was all. He hadn't really been planning to let anyone behind him anyway.

Muttering silent imprecations at nobody in particular under his breath, he began working his way into the oversized uniform.

---

In a small, detached part of his mind, Jigen was kind of glad Lupin wasn't here yet. This part of the job wasn't Lupin's style at all. Lupin was fire, skipping from point to point, burning down everything his enemies had built and cackling while he did it. Jigen was water, silently rising, unnoticed until he'd already done his damage.

It helped that whoever'd set the guards in this complex didn't seem to expect a raid from outside. Many of the guards were facing inward, or pacing back and forth on patrol, and they weren't stationed in pairs to face both ways. Well, he wasn't exactly complaining.

Jigen prowled along in absolute silence, security guard cap pulled well down over his eyes. His hat was carefully folded and tucked into the waistband of his suit trousers on his left hip, the slightly lopsided bulge hidden under layers of fabric. He looked almost like any other guard standing around the complex, except for the tall black gym bag cinched across his back, which was admittedly incriminating-looking enough (at least to Jigen's hitman instincts) that he'd rather not be seen.

Once he'd hauled the newest garroted body into a convenient office and tucked it out of sight, Jigen took a moment to look back the way he'd come and store the view in his memory. Not looking back in unfamiliar territory was a rookie mistake. You needed to know the landmarks that would tell you how to get out, not just the ones you'd seen getting in.

He didn't have forever. Human guards meant there'd have to be a shift change at some point. And no traffic jams outdoors meant that probably all two or three shifts of guards slept on base, so once the alarm was raised there'd be a lot of damn guards to deal with. But haste caused more problems than caution, so Jigen didn't hurry, just inched up to the next corner and carefully extended a tiny hand mirror beyond it, getting ready for his next move.

---

Of course, it couldn't all be that easy. Eventually, the path ran into a bigger room, a breakroom or cafeteria, with about half a dozen off-duty guards lounging around and chatting.

They'd be no challenge at all if he was carving his usual loud swath through the place. Six guards, six bullets in his Magnum, down before they could blink. But the noise would draw more of them, way more than he could handle head-on.

Jigen cautiously backtracked and scouted a couple of other routes, but it seemed the breakroom was pretty centrally located along the path he'd chosen. He'd have to go through.

Lupin would use a sleeping-gas grenade. Jigen had a few, in an outer pocket of the gym bag where he could get at them easily and silently. But Lupin, bless his impulsive heart, had basically not had to think about an exit strategy since they joined forces. He relied on Jigen for that.

Jigen had to think about the road back out—about carrying or trolleying an injured Goemon, about how easy it was to tip up breakroom bench-tables into barricades, about the lethal spray of lead from half a dozen machine guns and a samurai who wouldn't be able to dance the bullets to the ground like he normally did.

Jigen racked his brains for a few minutes, trying to find any better strategy than the one he already knew in his gut he was going to use. He... he liked to pretend, sometimes, that he wasn't this kind of guy anymore. But he knew, deep down, that he was a man who did what had to be done. Whatever had to be done.

He extracted the slimline gas-mask from one of his pockets and slipped it on, settling his guard cap back on over the straps. The gas grenade was almost completely silent as it rolled across the carpeted floor and settled against a table leg, beginning to puff out the sleeping gas. Jigen allowed about a minute for the large room to be filled and everyone in it to pass out.

Okay, next step. He'd have to trust to luck that nobody would come wandering in while he moved the unconscious guards. He didn't like to take that much time and spend that much energy. But they had to be moved, or the next person who entered the room would sound the alarm immediately.

Jigen wasn't a big man. He was wiry, but he couldn't lift and carry half a dozen men who mostly weighed more than he did, especially when he was already carrying an arsenal slung over his slouching shoulders. He dragged them one at a time across the carpet-tiled floor, around the back of the counter that ran along one side of the cafeteria, keeping a sharp eye on the floor to make sure nothing suspicious snagged or fell off them. The place had to look like it was just casually empty.

Finished with that part of the job, still wearing his gas mask, Jigen sat down behind the counter near the pile of unconscious bodies, all lying facedown, to take a quick breather. The gas should clear sufficiently by the time he came back this way; it better, because he didn't have a second gas mask for Goemon. An oversight. Hopefully not a fatal one.

Damn, what he wouldn't give to be up in the vents with Lupin at his side right now. Or better yet, flying a helicopter just out of radar range below the cliffs, ready to soar up and let his partners catch a rope ladder when the time was right. But he was only one man, and he had to make sure the road lay clear behind him for the trip out.

Jigen stood up and drew his knife. For a moment he thought about Lupin, bright and sunny, readier to kill through carelessness than by his own hand. He thought about Goemon, gleamingly precise, dealing death only when he chose to. He thought about Zenigata, who would be coming through here sooner rather than later, who could read a Lupin-related crime scene better than possibly any other cop on earth.

He thought about Lupin, chirpy voice grim and dark eyes glinting danger, ready to raze, burn, and salt the ashes of any organization that dared to steal one of his people from him. That's where Lupin was right now, pulling the strings, leaving Jigen to handle the business on the ground.

He thought about quiet Goemon, in who knew what shape by now, waiting stoically for rescue.

Then he bent down, tilting each guard's head with his free hand to direct the blood spray toward the carpeted floor, and slashed the carotid artery of each one in turn.

He watched them for a moment until their reflexive jerking stilled, then wiped the knife carefully, sheathed it, and walked toward the next corridor without looking back.

---

This was it. Jigen wasn't quite sure what "it" was yet, but he'd reached the area under the central dome, and it was obvious something big was housed here. A bunch of corridors converged, making it obvious that this had once been a hub of some sort, but almost the entire intersection was filled with a square of very tall, very ugly, retrofitted concrete walls that went all the way up to the dome above.

There were cameras, too. There hadn't been cameras most of the way. This place was important. Jigen stowed his gym bag in one of the meeting rooms off-camera, shifted the folds of his uniform shirt to mostly hide his Magnum, then sauntered very professionally once around the concrete box, trying to look like he saw it every day. His fingers itched for a cigarette—it was always easier to fly casual with one in his mouth or hand, and easier to keep his face shielded from cameras too—but he hadn't seen any of the other guards smoking up the place, so he made do with casually scratching at his beard a couple of times.

There was only one door into the box. It was metal, with a keycode lock on it, and looked extremely sturdy. Somebody didn't want the rank and file getting in there.

Secrets, Jigen thought, ambling his way down a different corridor until he was out of sight of the cameras. He leaned against the wall and stared at the door as if he could unlock it with a glare.

That wasn't prisoner containment. People who kept their prisoners in a central location like this usually wanted to show them off, and that blank concrete wall was the opposite of showing off. It had to be the records hub of the organization. The place Lupin and Zenigata would both want to see.

Jigen needed to get in and lock it down for them, before anybody realized he was an intruder, or any decent shutdown protocol would have the whole thing wiped in a matter of seconds once he made his move. There were other ways to find Goemon and probably Zantetsuken, but none that accomplished all his goals at once. But how could he get in, dressed as one of the guards who were obviously being kept out?

Huh. Maybe... huh. Maybe that idea was just dumb enough to work. It was... it was definitely something Lupin would do.

Before he had time to second-guess himself, Jigen strode boldly forward and knocked on the door.

Chapter 6

As soon as the door cracked open, Jigen dove through it in a forward roll, left hand holding his cap on his head. He came up on one knee with his gun already in his right hand, glanced around the room to get his bearings, and kicked the door shut.

"Hands up," he snapped, aiming the gun at the person in the chair, who was way too close to the big array of keyboards and buttons for his liking. Without looking, he punched the head of the person he'd bowled over at the door, not hard enough to do any damage, just to establish that he meant business in case that one got any ideas about being in grabbing range of Jigen himself. Those were the only two people in the room besides himself, luckily. "Get on the floor, face down. Right now."

The woman by the computers scowled and stood for a moment before going down to her knees and then laying on the floor.

"Good choice," Jigen said, giving her a smile that was all teeth. He dug around in his pockets with his left hand for a moment until he found the flattened roll of duct tape. "Now, if you two know anything about Goemon, you know who I am. You know how fast I can have this gun back out and a bullet in your brains. So maybe don't get any bright ideas about jumping me." He put the gun back in his waistband, making sure it was properly seated for his quick draw just in case either of them was a suicidal idiot, and stood up, looking down at the man who'd been bowled over by the door. "On your face, please," he said, nudging the man's shoulder with one foot.

"I'm just a doctor, please," the man said, rolling over.

"Shut up!" the woman barked.

Well, nice of them to establish the chain of command so clearly. Jigen had planned to restrain the man first since he was closer, but the woman was obviously the braver one and therefore the bigger threat. "Stay put, Doctor," Jigen ordered. He sidled across the room, keeping them both in his line of sight and his hand ready to draw if either one twitched. When he reached the woman, he used his teeth to pull on the little end tab he'd left folded over on the duct tape, unrolling a length. "Wrists crossed behind your back, ma'am," he said, a little indistinctly through his teeth. He reached back and settled his hand on the butt of his gun to make it clear it wasn't a request.

Visibly seething, the woman quietly put her hands how he wanted them.

Tough cookie, huh? Not even mouthing off. Jigen could admire that. Not that it'd help her out any. He gave the doctor a stern warning look, then knelt by the woman, pushed up her sleeves, and wrapped her wrists and forearms tightly together with several layers of duct tape. 'Restrain Lupin and time how long it takes him to get out' was a fun game at the hideout, and properly applied duct tape had given Jigen a couple of his best times. Badly applied duct tape could be worse than useless. Jigen was glad he had some handy experience to draw on in that regard.

Once he had the woman's arms immobilized to his satisfaction, Jigen considered for a second, then wrapped each of her hands separately in tape as well so she couldn't use her fingers or thumbs. Then he moved down to her ankles, pushed up her pant legs, and bound her ankles and lower legs together. He removed her shoes and tossed them across the room, just because Lupin always had some kind of bullshit tricks in his shoes, and then he stood up and rolled her over a couple of times with his foot so she wasn't in the spot where she'd chosen to lie down.

"Okay, your turn, Doctor," Jigen said, checking his gun again to make sure it hadn't shifted while he was working. "Just hold still and this won't hurt a bit." He crossed the room to the doctor, still making sure to keep the woman in his line of sight, and started taping up the doctor the same way.

"This isn't really necessary," the man said, soothingly.

Jigen gave a little keh. "Nice try, Doc." He made sure to tape the man up just as securely as the woman, including removing his shoes and his necktie. Then he picked the doctor up by the collar and dragged him across the room, dumping him near the woman with their heads close together but pointing opposite ways. Finally, with some scuffling to get them both in position, he arranged them so the back of each one's head was approximately between the other's shoulder blades, and wrapped duct tape around both their necks several times, holding them together.

"There we go," he said cheerfully. He sat down in one of the two chairs, straddling the backrest, and drew his pistol, grinning. "Now who wants to prove you're useful first? I probably only need one of you alive, you know. Not sure which one yet."

"We'll see, now won't we?" the woman said, looking at Jigen.

Jigen pulled his necktie out from inside the guard uniform and fished a small thumb drive out of his tie tag. "Might not need either of you alive. If this thing does its job, I should have all the answers I need." He chose a USB port and plugged the thumb drive into one of the computer towers. Supposedly, the little gadget was preprogrammed to bypass a bunch of security and pull a direct dump of the hard drive contents. Lupin kept one or two of these at each of their safehouses, just in case. "But I'm sure my boss would like a new toy to play with. So if you want to stay alive long enough to match your wits against him, you might start by telling me where the sword is."

"Destroyed," she said, smug. "Sorry, didn't think anyone would even bother wanting it."

Jigen snorted, took the duct tape back out, and tore off another strip. "If you can't even make up interesting lies, I don't need to talk to you." He bent down and slapped the strip of tape over her mouth. "Now. Doctor. Where's the sword?"

She grumbled under the gag and pressed her head into the doctor. He sighed. "They didn't tell me that. I'm just here to make sure everything is okay."

Jigen tilted his head thoughtfully. "Is okay with...?"

"With the people who are here," the doctor said. "You know how it is. Bunch of people all together…"

That wasn't telling him what he needed to know. "Prisoners, or just the guards and whoever else is here?" Jigen asked.

"Uh," he said, looking nervous. "Whoever else and the guards. We're just a bunch of like-minded people here."

Jigen knelt down on the floor by the man's head and gently traced the muzzle of his gun down the man's jawline. "Let me make one thing very clear," he purred. "If the samurai is dead, or if he's been moved, I have exactly no use left for you. Now do you want to..." He pressed his gun into that pulse point under the jaw. "...clarify that last statement? Or do I blow both your heads off and keep looking?"

"I am treating the prisoner and making sure he doesn't die," the doctor said quickly. "He's here, I promise, he's here."

"Good," Jigen said simply. If the man was lying to save his skin, well, Jigen could kill him on the way out. "Where's he being kept? What's his physical and mental condition?"

The woman screamed into her gag and pulled, trying to keep the man from talking. The doctor choked loudly and she started coughing a bit.

Jigen sighed, pulled out his knife, and sliced quickly through the duct tape around their necks. He kicked the woman over to lie on her front, then cut her trousers off with a couple of efficient slices up the backs of her legs. It wasn't Goemon-level work, but he managed not to nick her too badly. He pulled her feet back and up, as close to her butt as they would go, and taped her ankles firmly to her bare thighs. "Behave or I'll stop playing nice," he growled. As much fun as it would be to see Lupin turn this bitch's mind inside out, he wasn't sure it'd be worth the trouble. Might just shoot her before he left. He'd really like to attach her to something immovable, but there didn't seem to be anything handy.

"Now, Doctor," Jigen said, lounging against the wall so he had them both in his line of sight again. "If you're helpful, I'll keep her from beating your ass when I leave. How's the prisoner doing?"

The doctor turned to look at the woman, his reddened face starting to fade back to its normal color. "I'm always happy to help," he babbled. "He's alive. Under a lot of stress but definitely, definitely alive. I've kept him alive."

Jigen mentally placed his bets. Either Goemon was alive but barely functional, or he was very thoroughly dead and had been for a while. The fact that the doctor was here in such a secure space when his boss obviously didn't respect him, though, and the way the woman had freaked out when the doctor admitted Goemon's existence, did suggest that Goemon might actually still be alive.

Which meant... that he was being kept alive for a reason. And there were really only two possible reasons. One was simply to sadistically keep torturing him as long as possible. The other was to break him, brainwash him, and use him as the assassin his skills made him fit to be.

If you wanted assassin Goemon, you needed Zantetsuken. The woman had said Zantetsuken was destroyed—an obvious lie, but Jigen took a moment to ponder the implications of that lie. If Zantetsuken was already sold, there was no reason for the woman to protect the buyer. She should have just admitted it was sold in an effort to send Jigen on a wild-goose chase after it. Which meant the sword was still being kept here somewhere.

Which meant... it was probably being kept somewhere very secure, in case Goemon broke out and went looking for it. The guard placements said as plain as words that the organization feared that possibility, far more than anything Jigen or Lupin could do. Which just might mean—odds were it was being kept here.

"Specifics, Doctor," Jigen said, splitting his attention between the doctor and the row of lockers on the back wall. This place seemed pretty soundproof, but he didn't want to shoot any locks off if he didn't have to. "Is he unconscious? Drugged? Starved? Injured? What exact types of torture has he been through?"

"He should be conscious. I just ended his sleep cycle. He's been given nutrition but not much," the doctor told him, demeanor going much more defeated. "I'm sorry. I've kept him alive. He's mostly unharmed. Sleep deprivation, white room torture and some drugging. To keep him unbalanced."

Jigen nodded and started taking apart one of the chairs. "Reprogramming, or are you still trying to break him?"

The doctor hesitated. "Still breaking. Your friend has a remarkable will," he said.

"He does," Jigen agreed with a slight smile. "You're lucky. It may have saved your life." He had a nice sturdy flat piece of metal now, part of the chair back. Hefting it in his hands, he strolled over to the lockers. He wedged the strip of metal under the lock on the first one and wrenched at it, breaking the welds that held the little locking tabs to the door. Cheap-asses. "Oh look, somebody didn't want to shell out for the good lockers," he drawled, swinging open the door. "And look what I found!" He lifted the familiar katana sheath and drew Zantetsuken carefully. He didn't get to handle the real thing very often, but Lupin had insisted on teaching him the basics with a wooden bokken, and Goemon had butted in whenever Lupin got something too egregiously wrong.

Jigen looked around for something to test the sword on. He briefly considered decapitating the woman just to get her out of the way, but decided the doctor didn't deserve that level of freakout if he was telling the truth about Goemon's condition. Instead, he swung the sword vertically at the open locker door, and smiled when the blade swept through it with no more resistance than a sheet of paper.

"See?" he told the woman with a smirk. "Not even creative. I'll just take this baby with me." He sheathed the sword and, with a bit of grumbling, worked it down one of his trouser legs. He'd be really happy when he could ditch all the extra layers of fabric the guard uniform saddled him with, but he still needed to stay in cover as long as he could.

Walking over to the computer array, he saw that his thumb drive was blinking green, a handy signal to show that it had successfully pulled the information dump. Jigen was no more tech-savvy than he had to be, and Goemon made it a point of honor not to understand any technology newer than a radio, so Lupin tried to keep his more hacker-style tools of the trade user-friendly. There was even a little sticker on one flat side of the drive with a tiny peanut-faced Lupin doodle, to tell Goemon which way was up.

Jigen pulled the thumb drive out, tucked it safely back into his tie, and stuffed his tie down inside the uniform shirt. Then he poked cautiously at the computer a bit. Ooh, nice. Surveillance of what had to be the inside of Goemon's cell—completely white to the point that the cameras weren't very happy, but Goemon's black hair was distinctive, and he seemed to be seated in his usual lotus position—and, the jackpot, controls for the door locks.

"One more question, Doctor," Jigen said, leaning with one hip against the computer desk. "Where exactly is the prisoner being kept?"

"All the way at the back of the complex," the doctor said. "His cell is on a cantilevered support over the water. He's heavily guarded, too. We didn't want to underestimate him."

"Just underestimated his friends?" Jigen quipped. "Don't answer that." To be fair, these people probably hadn't factored in Zenigata as one of Goemon's friends, and Lupin and Jigen alone would have still been looking for him. "Okay, Doc, you've been a good boy. Hold still." He extracted a permanent marker from one of his pockets and wrote "COOPERATIVE" on the doctor's forehead, then turned to the woman and wrote "INTERROGATE" on hers. He might be signing the doctor's death warrant if the organization found the pair first, but if Jigen died on the way out of here, he wanted Lupin to know what was what.

"When your friends arrive, please, please, don't let me be stuck here with these people," the doctor begged. "They're all true believers and I just betrayed them."

Jigen nodded. "That's fair. Tell you what, I'll see if I can get Lupin to pass you along to Interpol. Pops deserves a nice cooperative prisoner for once, and Lupin can have plenty of fun breaking your lady friend here." He picked up the doctor's discarded necktie. "Speaking of. I need to keep her off your back while I'm busy, yeah?" He wrapped the tie across the woman's eyes as a blindfold and tied it snugly. It wouldn't stay put for long by itself—silk was stretchy, and ties being cut on the bias were extra stretchy—but it was mainly there so he wouldn't be sticking duct tape directly to her eyelids. That would be a little more unnecessary cruelty than he felt like right now. He taped the blindfold firmly to her face, making sure to leave her nose clear so she could breathe.

"Okay, I think that's about it," Jigen said. "I'm not gonna blindfold you, Doc, but I do need to gag you. Just in case." He reached down with another strip of duct tape.

The doctor nodded. "Fair," he said, staying still. "Good luck."

Jigen grinned. "Thanks. You too." He put the duct tape over the doctor's mouth, took a quick look around the room to make sure everything else looked okay, then pressed the button on the computer to unlock Goemon's cell and strolled out the door.

He made a quick stop by the meeting room to pick up his gym bag, and took a moment to move Zantetsuken into it so he wasn't walking like he had a splint on one leg. Then he cinched the bag across his back again, made sure it wouldn't interfere with his quick draw, and set off toward the next hallway with the garrote in hand, ready to clear the rest of the path he needed.

Chapter 7

Goemon heard mocking laughter echoing around the horrible white space. He wasn't sure of anything anymore. Phantom touches crawled over his battered body, assessing and measuring.

"Look at you now," Lupin said, standing over him. "Pathetic little samurai. Nothing but an amusing toy that's been abandoned." He laughed, the taunting nyehehehe so many of their enemies had learned to dread. "You're dead and no one even noticed. Or cared."

Goemon squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists into his white robes. "I still live."

"Maybe. But not really. You've shamed yourself. You've shamed me by associating with you. You're weak. My weak little doll. Perhaps I should just twist your head off. See if you contain anything or just a bunch of straw."

Lupin's thin hands wrapped around his head and he gasped. There was a soft sound, a series of sounds, that Goemon couldn't identify. He opened his eyes, the visage of Lupin flickering and fading. It hurt trying to see.

Goemon saw one of the white-uniformed people who came in sometimes. He usually only saw them on the very edge of sleep, such as it was. Something was different about this one, though.

The person was carrying a big black bag over their shoulder. Goemon couldn't remember the last time he'd seen anything that wasn't white. He stared hungrily at the bag. The blurry face next to it was brown and black-bordered.

"Hey, Goemon," the person said gently in a deep voice. "You remember me?" He set the bag aside and started taking off his white uniform, showing a dark suit underneath. "It's me. Jigen. I'm here to get you out, buddy."

This was the cruelest hallucination yet. He knew Jigen's voice and yearned for his comrade. He couldn't see this one clearly, either, like he'd seen Lupin even with his eyes shut. "Don't lie," Goemon said, voice rusty in his throat from disuse, but forcing it to be clear. "Stop lying."

There was a heavy sigh. "Great," Jigen's voice said, half to himself. "I'm not lying, Goemon-chan. It's me. I'm really sorry it took us so long to find you. I had to get Pops involved. But I'm here now." The white uniform was gone. Jigen switched the guard hat for his regular hat, then held out a hand, not touching Goemon, just offering it for him to take if he wanted. "I'm real. I know this kind of place makes you hallucinate. But I really am here."

Goemon looked as hard as he could and hesitated before reaching out. The hand was warm and solid and rough and familiar. Jigen became visible in his actual vision, brown face and black beard and rumpled dark hat and suit, the colors rich in the forsaken whiteness around him. "You're here."

Jigen smiled at him, soft and affectionate. "Welcome back, Goemon." He reached down with his free hand toward the bag on the ground, and Goemon heard it unzipping. "If I give you Zantetsuken, will you promise not to slice either one of us with it?"

"You have my solemn vow," Goemon said, voice shaking. They hadn't forsaken him. Jigen was here. The smell of Jigen's cigarettes and the hint of gunpowder that never quite left him filled Goemon's senses as everything sharpened and hurt. "I…"

Jigen held out the familiar sheath, gently wrapping Goemon's hands around it. "It's okay, Goemon. I'm here. You have your sword. Lupin's out somewhere being a scary motherfucker and tearing this whole organization down. You're safe, okay? Do you want a hug, or would you rather not be touched?"

Goemon immediately pulled him close. "I can never repay my debt to you."

Jigen wrapped his arms around Goemon, rubbing his back and smoothing his hair. "Don't worry about it. Let's just get you out of here, soon as you feel up to it." Jigen's beard felt ticklish on Goemon's neck, just the way he remembered it.

The gunman didn't quite comprehend what he had done for him. Goemon didn't wish him to. But they weren't out of danger yet. "Let's go immediately. Do we have a clear path?"

"As clear as I could make it," Jigen said. "'Fraid I didn't pack a change of clothes for you. Are you good in what you're wearing, or do you want to change into the guard outfit I had on? 'Cause you're kind of, uh... wearing burial robes."

Goemon glanced down at himself and his hand immediately went to the edge of the white kimono. He was much paler than his usual and had thinned. Everything that had been muted came into painful focus. It was wrong. "Do I have a moment to rearrange my kimono?"

"Yeah, go for it," Jigen said, leaning back on his heels and starting to fish around in the black bag. "I knocked out the guards just outside with sleeping gas. We should have about ten more minutes before they start waking up. I'd like to be well on our way by then." He extracted a reasonably large gun and several magazines from the bag while he was talking, stuffed the magazines into his trouser pockets, and zipped the bag back up.

Goemon's hands moved as he loosened the death robes, rearranging them so he was no longer between life and death but purified. He'd have to make do with this for now, but he had Zantetsuken and he hadn't been forsaken. "I'm ready." He'd do whatever it took to be free from this place.

Jigen had his gym bag strapped across his back again. He grinned down at Goemon and held out a hand to help him up. "How do you feel about standing?"

Goemon took the offered hand and stood, pain washing over him, and willed himself to do anything necessary. "I will endure."

"Lean on me if you need to," Jigen told him. "Oh, and it might be easier to endure with some food in your stomach." He offered Goemon a slightly squashed-looking wrapped protein bar. "Couldn't fit a bento box in my pocket, sorry. But you can snack while we move. I have more when you finish that one, if these are okay."

Hunger that he hadn't noticed roared to life. "Thank you for the meal," he said. He took the offered bar, unwrapping it and silently eating a bite. Goemon carefully chewed, ignoring his yearning. Too much and he'd only be ill. "I don't recall when I last ate."

"Yeah, they've had you pretty... out of it," Jigen said. "Some kinda nutrient whatnot. And drugs. You're not gonna have a fun time recovering. But we'll make it." He moved toward the doorway of the cell. "Just stick close behind me and holler if you need anything."

Goemon nodded. He felt a stab of fear that they wouldn't be able to leave, but his eyes quickly found the darkened hall, the light spilling out of his prison. Goemon let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding and followed the lanky gunman.

"Right this way, Goemon," Jigen murmured, glancing back at him. "We don't really have a lot of time for your eyes to recover, so just keep your hand on my shoulder and I'll get you out of here."

Putting his hand on Jigen's shoulder, Goemon closed his eyes, letting his other senses guide him. He was in disarray and weakened. It hurt his pride but it was necessary to endure.

"You got this, buddy," Jigen said softly as they walked, his voice anchoring Goemon. "Just think of it like blindfolded training or something, I don't know. There's no shame in letting a friend help you out. If we could all do everything by ourselves, what's the point in having a team, huh?"

The comfort was welcome. Goemon felt far too rough at the moment. He’d train harder, get better than he had been. “You are correct.”

"Glad you agree." Jigen patted Goemon's hand where it rested on his shoulder. "Okay, we're gonna turn left here and go down some stairs. Ready?"

“Yes,” Goemon told him. They moved forward, and on the edge of his hearing, he heard footsteps. “Guards are coming.” He let his eyes open and settle.

He felt Jigen's sense shift, the angle of the shoulder under Goemon's hand going from stealthy and alert to the relaxed, focused combat stance Goemon knew so well. "Okay, we got this," Jigen murmured. "How are your eyes? If I move ahead and clear the way, can you move up to me, or will I need to come back and get you?"

“I’ll find you,” Goemon told him. “It’s darker than the room.”

"Good man," Jigen said. "Okay, just stay in the stairwell here and don't get grabbed. I'll let you know when you're clear to move up." He squeezed Goemon's hand and moved it off his shoulder, then crept forward, Magnum in his right hand, the larger gun cradled in his left arm.

Goemon listened, following the action by ear. A spatter of uncoordinated machine-gun fire from the enemy, two or three different voices barking orders. A single short burst of just a few bullets, probably from Jigen's larger gun, followed by at least one voice scolding loudly, then another short burst. More barked orders and a scuffle of many feet. Someone shouted "charge!" Goemon heard an abortive rush of feet, a longer steady burst of automatic fire, and then some hasty scuffling for cover over dying groans. Extremely angry yelling, interrupted by the familiar bark of Jigen's Magnum—three shots from the Magnum, followed by a discordant mess of quarreling voices and a stampede of retreating feet.

Jigen's chuckle sounded close by. "Strategic retreat, my ass. With their leadership down, they're disorganized. They're calling for reinforcements to this hallway, though, so let's go around. How are you feeling?"

Goemon paused. “Horrible,” he said simply. “Absolutely horrible." He laid his hand on Jigen’s shoulder again. “My vision is returning. But not quickly.”

"Yeah, no shit," Jigen said, starting to lead him away. "Three months in that place... I'm impressed you're still this functional. Guess all that clean samurai living pays off." He patted Goemon's hand again, seeming to understand that he needed the contact to ground him. "We'll need to get out of this office complex, across a causeway, and over about a klick of rough ground. I couldn't stash the helicopter any closer. Or..." There was a pause while he thought. Goemon could imagine him chewing on his lower lip, the way he did when he couldn't have a cigarette. "There's a secure location in the middle of the complex. I could get you in through the roof. Leave you there, come back with the chopper, and pick you up along with a couple of prisoners I have there." He turned with a sigh and slipped his arm around Goemon's back for a sideways hug. "I just... I really fucking don't want to leave you again now that I finally found you."

“I don’t desire to be left; however, I understand if you must,” Goemon admitted. “I’m in your care, Jigen. Whichever you decide.”

He felt Jigen take a long breath against his side. "That causeway's a kill zone. I'd take out what defenses I could, but we'd have to run it. At least a couple hundred meters at a flat-out sprint." Jigen reached over and turned Goemon's chin gently to face him. "Before you decide if you're up for that, remember—I know you have your honor as a samurai to consider, but I..." He sounded almost shy. "I also have my honor, such as it is. If you let your pride get you killed while you're under my protection, I... I wouldn't be okay. You understand?"

“I won’t allow myself to die so foolishly,” Goemon promised. “I am under your protection until I am fit. Would you rather I take shelter in your safe place?” he asked, burning with embarrassment.

Jigen squeezed his shoulders gently. "Tell you what. I don't have to decide yet. We might have another way out, too, if we get really lucky. But we better get moving again before they decide to rush us for real." He patted Goemon's shoulder and took a couple of steps away, then glanced back. "And, uh, thanks for trusting me, Goemon. It means a lot."

“You came back for me,” Goemon told him simply. “I already trusted you with everything. But you came here for me."

Jigen's smile under his hat was soft and fond. "Let's move."

Chapter 8

A couple of corridors later, Goemon followed Jigen into what turned out to be a restroom. "I figure you're thirsty," Jigen said, producing a collapsible travel cup from one of his pockets. Goemon just didn't feel like being surprised anymore. Jigen clearly had as many hidden pockets in that suit as Lupin himself. "Might want to have some more food as well. And I want to see if I can get in touch with Lupin." He dropped a handful of wrapped food items on the counter by the sinks for Goemon to pick through, then leaned his back against the door so no one could get in, and pulled out his phone.

Goemon picked through the packages and chose the energy bites, filling his cup with water and draining it before refilling and taking a bite of the small chewable. "Lupin?" he asked, unable to decide if he wanted to know whether he was okay, or here, or where he might have been. The feeling of failure rushed through him again.

Jigen's phone made an obnoxious dinging noise and lit up. Apparently it was supposed to do that, because Jigen smiled slightly and started tapping the screen. "He knows we're here," Jigen explained without looking up. "I sent him all my intel on this place. He's been hunting the top bosses since we noticed you were missing. Hopefully, he's got the whole leadership structure of the organization pretty much shredded by now." He chuckled, low and dangerous. "You know how it is when he gets all angry and possessive."

Unbidden, the mocking laughter of his hallucinations taunting him was again in his ears. Goemon forced himself to drink and eat another bite. "I do," he said quietly. He didn't need this! "Lupin is dangerous when upset."

Jigen took a cautious step closer. "Hey, Goemon," he said gently. "Everything okay?"

"It's nothing," Goemon deflected. "I'm with you."

Jigen nodded slowly. "You'll let me know about anything that affects the mission," he said.

In his own way, Goemon knew, Jigen was a warrior as well. He understood the need to transcend emotional issues until there was leisure available to deal with them.

“Of course,” Goemon promised. “We’ll get through this together.”

Jigen nodded and leaned back against the door, returning his attention to his phone. After a minute, it made a different obnoxious noise, and Jigen's face lit up. "He's here!" He started tapping at the screen again. "Hey, Goemon, he wants to call and talk to us. Yes or no? It's fine if you say no, we can just text about the extraction."

“It would be good to hear his voice,” Goemon said. He’d have to face it before long. Or he’d have to leave. Goemon didn’t want to be alone.

"You got it," Jigen said, apparently taking Goemon's words at face value, although it was always difficult to tell the difference between Jigen deliberately not prying and Jigen not realizing there was anything to pry into. A little more tapping, and Jigen's phone started ringing, the jazzy tune he always used. (Goemon had, under duress, learned to recognize the preferred ringtones used by the rest of the gang, as well as how to answer their phones in an emergency.)

Jigen answered the phone call. "Hey, partner," he said, grinning.

“Hello, both of you,” Lupin’s cheerful voice said from the speaker. “I’m so glad we found you, Goemon-chan! We were worried about you.”

“Thank you,” Goemon said. “I’m glad you came.”

"And I am so glad you're here, buddy," Jigen said, sounding like a massive wave of relief had just hit him. "I was looking at a choice between leaving Goemon alone with a couple of prisoners, or trying to run that causeway out front with him. He's mobile, but definitely not at a hundred percent." He reached out and patted Goemon's shoulder, making sure Goemon knew he wasn't criticizing, while he kept talking. "Can you meet us at the big dome in the center? There's a secure computer hub under it. Two prisoners, one cooperative, one very much not, and a bunch of hard drives somebody might need to pull. I ran the flash drive through 'em, but... y'know. Try not to smash everything when you blow the roof off, huh?"

“I’m almost there already,” Lupin said, warm and delighted. “Gotta keep something intact for Pops.”

"Hell yes," Jigen agreed, looking gleeful. "I told the male prisoner I'll try to get him to Interpol. He was pretty cooperative and he's worried about retribution. I figure Pops deserves a nice well-behaved prisoner for a change. Anything else before we start moving again?"

“Has to happen once in a while,” Lupin said. Goemon could hear the smirk in his voice. “Be careful. I have a few surprises in store."

"I'm always careful," Jigen told him.

"One of us has to be," Lupin agreed cheerfully.

"We'll get to the central hub as soon as we can," Jigen said. "It might take us a bit. There's a bunch of guards causing trouble."

“I know you will. See you then," Lupin said.

"See you," Jigen said, and hung up. He looked at Goemon. "You still doing okay?"

Goemon nodded. Hearing Lupin was overwhelming, but he was dragging Jigen down. He had to be stronger. “We should continue. We don’t want to leave Lupin waiting.”

"Anything you want to talk about, I'm here," Jigen said, packing the uneaten food and the cup back into his pockets. "No pressure. Just make sure you take care of yourself, man." He checked his Magnum again, as he had every time they stopped, then put his hand on the door handle, waiting for Goemon's signal that he was ready to go.

"There will be ample opportunity later," Goemon said firmly, promise in his voice. "For now, let's keep moving."

Jigen nodded and opened the door.

---

Jigen prowled along yet another hallway, Goemon close behind. His gym bag was slowly getting lighter—he'd had to use a few of his grenades (real grenades, not the sleeping gas kind, after some genius among the guards had found a gas mask and nearly shot Jigen's hat off) to clear hallways, and he'd abandoned the submachine gun after running out of magazines for it. No point hauling dead weight.

He paused at a corner and took the opportunity to glance back at Goemon. The samurai looked like shit, honestly. The dark circles under his eyes stood out like bruises on his too-thin face. The all-white kimono wasn't doing his complexion any favors, though at least he had the fronts crossed the right way around for a living being now. The amount of muscle atrophy... Goemon wasn't supposed to feel scrawny in Jigen's arms. He was usually the only one of the team with actual muscle definition.

Jigen was trying hard not to infantilize Goemon, trying to give him as much independence and agency as he safely could. But he could see all too clearly that his friend's reflexes were shot, that instead of the superhuman samurai he had an all too frail human being on his hands. He could see that Goemon knew it, too, and the awareness of his own weakness had to be killing Goemon inside. Hell, Jigen felt bad enough when his own eyes or gun arm went temporarily out of commission on a job, turning him into a burden in need of defense; how much more for Goemon, whose identity centered around being as finely honed a weapon as the sword he wielded.

He wasn't going to pry, not now, but Jigen was also pretty worried about the way Goemon had reacted to the mention of Lupin. That little I'm with you... Whatever was going on in his head must have hit Goemon pretty damn hard, if he felt like he needed to reassure Jigen that he wasn't dissociating.

Well, duh, genius, he told himself wryly as they inched around the next corner, Jigen first with his Magnum in hand to make sure the area was clear. Goemon had just spent three months undergoing one of the most effective long-term torture methods Jigen knew of. (And, yeah, he knew of... well, a bunch. Came with the territory.) He'd as much as told Jigen he'd been hallucinating, which was only to be expected.

Fuck, I'm just lucky it's Lupin he's scared of and not me. This could have gone so much worse.

He hated that Goemon was in no shape to fight by his side right now. It would probably do his friend worlds of psychological good to get to strike back at his tormentors. But if Jigen had to choose between a dead Goemon or an emotionally fucked-up one, he knew which he'd choose every time.

Chapter 9

Of course, once there was a helicopter hovering loudly over the central data hub, it became pretty obvious to the guards where Jigen and Goemon had to be heading.

"Shit," Jigen muttered, using his pocket mirror to check around the corner again. "They've got the hub doorways barricaded off and just... scads of guys with all sorts of guns. They know we have to come to them." He grimaced and started poking through the gym bag, making sure exactly how much ordnance he had left. The chopper didn't have an angle to cover them, not with the way the concrete walls sat; he had to get Goemon inside the hub before they'd be home free.

Goemon remained composed, but Jigen could see the uncertainty in his eyes. "How will we proceed?"

Jigen set his jaw. It was... rougher than he'd expected, having to treat Goemon like some kind of civilian instead of the warrior who was usually able to watch his back almost as seamlessly as Lupin. Didn't mean he couldn't pull it off, but he ached for the loss as if he was missing a part of himself.

"Grenade over the barricades to start," he whispered. "Then I just—"

Goemon suddenly moved, Zantetsuken ringing out of its sheath. Jigen jerked toward the sound of gunfire on his left, nowhere near where he'd expected enemies to move. Shit. Pincer attack. Jigen's Magnum was in his hand without conscious thought, but Goemon was already down the left-hand hall to the next intersection, sword flashing, guards tumbling to the floor around him even as the bullets he'd sliced in half rattled to the floor near Jigen's feet.

Shit. I didn't even hear them coming. Three months in solitary and he saves my ass just like that. Jigen checked around his corner again in case there were multiple fronts of guards on the move, but the barricaded ones were still sitting there. Waiting for the ones on the move to flush them like ducks, no doubt.

Satisfied, he turned and trotted down the hallway to where Goemon now stood, leaning against the wall, breathing hard.

Jigen spared a single glance for the corpses covering the floor—they were pretty obviously corpses, with the amount of blood and body parts lying around. Good. Goemon was playing for keeps. They hadn't broken him to their side. And hopefully the blood spattered on the white kimono wasn't his. "You take any damage, Goemon?"

"None," Goemon confirmed, winded. He forced himself to slow his breathing. "I can continue if you'd like to dispatch those in front of us."

Jigen chuckled and reached out, stroking Goemon's hair. "You did so good," he murmured. It was obvious that Goemon couldn't keep up that level of swordplay, not winded like he was from what should have been an easy five seconds, but it had been enough. "You saved us. Now it's my turn." He led Goemon back toward the hallway with the barricades. "When my grenade goes off, run with me and take cover behind the barricade, then reload my guns when I hand them to you. Sound like a plan?"

"I like this plan," Goemon said, looking a bit better even with the blood spray upon him.

Jigen grinned. He pulled out a pair of shooting gloves—he didn't use them with the Magnum, but he'd brought them just in case—then considered for a moment. He really wished he'd brought two pairs. For what he had planned... He handed the gloves to Goemon. "Put these on," he said. "The guns are gonna get hot fast. You'll need the protection to reload them."

Once Goemon was ready, Jigen picked up the gym bag in his left hand, hefted a grenade in his right, and moved as close to the corner as he safely could. Then he pulled the pin with his teeth and tossed the grenade around the corner with a flick of his wrist, landing it about a meter and a half behind where he knew the barricades were set up.

Two... one... BOOM! Jigen was off as soon as the explosion dwindled, darting around the corner. He dashed the few meters to cover and ducked down behind the thick metal barricade, taking cover on the right side so his ejected shell casings would hit the wall instead of Goemon. He set down the gym bag to his left, glanced over to make sure Goemon was with him—he was, still winded but eager-looking—and pulled a pair of assault rifles out of the bag before the smoke from the grenade had cleared above him.

The guards who hadn't been in direct range of the grenade were flooding toward them. Perfect. If they'd stayed in cover and kept their weapons trained on the door to the computer hub, Jigen's job would have been a lot harder. He braced the guns carefully, using the barricades to help—trying to fire two assault rifles at once was usually a show-off's game, muzzle climb would waste most of the rounds, but there were at least a hundred, maybe a hundred and fifty visible guards crowding the central area. He needed the extra damage output, and his enemies were crowded enough that lack of accuracy wouldn't kill him, as long as he could control the guns' pitch.

Eyes darting back and forth at the groups converging toward him, Jigen began to fire. Spent rounds clattered against the wall as guards fell in waves. They fired back, making Jigen dodge and duck, but he kept firing.

When either of his guns fell silent, Goemon had a replacement ready and waiting, right where his hand would naturally reach for it. Most guns with a full-auto mode could chew through a magazine in two or three seconds, so Jigen staggered his fire—empty one magazine, fire with the gun in the other hand while he was dropping the empty gun and picking up the replacement. It was perhaps the most brutally efficient performance you could get in his line of work.

It couldn't be kept up for long. In rather less than a minute, Jigen's arms were trembling from the effort of controlling the recoil, and his bare hands were twitching on the overheating metal. Goemon was still faithfully reloading the guns as fast as Jigen could hand them over, but soon enough, he estimated they were no longer safe to fire.

Jigen dropped down behind the barricade, nodding to Goemon that he could stop now, and listened. Not that he was going to hear much after the hell this kind of game wreaked on his eardrums, but he'd be able to hear a gunshot. He took off his hat for a second and poked it up over the barricade on the end of a rifle.

Nothing. These guys probably didn't have the trigger discipline to pull off an ambush after all that, not with the makeshift leadership they had since Jigen took out their command center, but he had to be sure. He didn't bother trying to talk, since Goemon's hearing couldn't be in much better shape than his own. He resettled his hat, then just pointed to Goemon, then down at the floor, signaling him to stay put. Next, at himself and out to the area around the hub, waggling his finger in a circle to indicate that he was going to reconnoiter. One hand up for "wait", then a gentle tap to Zantetsuken's sheath, a point toward the metal door in the concrete and a quick X gesture imitating Goemon's favorite attack with the sword. Finally, hat pushed back and eyebrows raised, asking if Goemon understood the plan.

Goemon nodded, holding Zantetsuken at the ready. Jigen pulled his hat back down, tossed Goemon a tiny salute, and drew his Magnum, then stood up and hopped over the barricade, ready to duck.

No bullets came his way, so he moved carefully along the outer wall of the central area, alert for any movement. One by one, he cleared each of the other doorways. A few still had unusually smart or brave or cowardly guards lurking; quick, remorseless headshots took care of them. He stopped to reload his Magnum in each doorway, just in case—you only had to forget to reload your gun once before it became a paranoid habit, even if you weren't expecting any more trouble.

Finally, still alert for any sign of movement from the piles of dead guards on the floor, since he had neither the time nor the ammo to double-tap every one of them, he moved over to the metal door and waved to Goemon to join him.

Goemon moved swiftly, unsheathing Zantetsuken with a honed hand, and sliced the metal door open, the pieces falling around him. Jigen probably only imagined his abused ears heard the familiar click as the sword was returned to its sheath.

Lupin was standing inside the computer hub, poking at the keyboards and buttons, glancing back and forth between the screens and a tablet in his left hand. The two prisoners had already disappeared, presumably into the yellow helicopter overhead, from which a rope ladder dangled. The lockers had all been broken open as well.

"Lupin!" Jigen said, overjoyed to see his partner in the flesh again. He wanted to run over and hug him, but without a door to shut behind them, he stayed on guard, gesturing to Goemon to enter first.

Lupin grinned, looking at the two of them with delight on his face. There was a slight hesitation before Goemon entered. Immediately, Lupin was there, words pitched so they could hear him. “Fujiko’s above us waiting. Pops will be on his way too, as soon as I give him the signal. I’m so glad to see the two of you again! It’s been just boring without you. We should take off. I have a nice spot all picked out where we can go.”

Jigen laughed happily. "You want to take the ladder first, Goemon? Fujiko likes you, she probably won't drop you halfway." He didn't actually think Fujiko was likely to betray them at this point—Goemon was as good a friend as she had, to Jigen's knowledge. If he'd thought there was any real risk, he'd have been up the ladder already with his gun to the back of her head. But the bitching was practically expected at this point, and Goemon needed things to get back to normal.

“She wouldn’t. After all, she came all this way,” Goemon said with a slight upturn of his lips.

"You're probably right," Jigen said, grinning. He patted Goemon's shoulder. "You want to climb, or should we have her drop the sling belt thingy?" He could never remember the name of the damn widget, but Goemon knew what he meant.

“I wish to climb it,” Goemon said. He went to the waiting ladder and began climbing.

Lupin watched him, bumping his shoulder against Jigen’s. “It’s not great, is it?” he asked quietly.

Jigen made a little agreeing noise in his throat. "He was in a white room for three months, Lupin. He's been hallucinating, something bad about you, far as I can tell. He's pushing himself to be okay till we can get out, but... maybe don't get all over him right away, huh?"

"I'll try," Lupin said. "He's skeletal in ways I don't like. I haven't really looked into their records on his treatment yet, but I think I will before too much longer," he said, deadly serious. "We'd better go before Fujicakes decides to leave without us."

"He's gotta be a lot worse fucked up than he's shown yet," Jigen said. "We owe Pops big time for this one." He stepped forward and started climbing the ladder. Not that he really thought Goemon or Lupin would let Fujiko leave without him, but... well, maybe he missed having somebody watch his back for a change.

Lupin followed after. Once they were in the helicopter, he took the copilot's seat and pulled on the headphones. "All clear here, Fujicakes. Take us away."

"Roger," she said.

Jigen sat down on the floor next to Goemon and started dumping out his carefully organized pockets, tossing all their contents gleefully into the gym bag. God, it felt like years since he'd been able to just... not think about the logistics of his next move. He could finally fucking relax for a minute.

The helicopter soared upward, carrying the four of them away.

Chapter 10

Water slid down Goemon's body while he leaned forward against the shower wall. It was difficult to stay standing, but he didn't want to sit either. Goemon felt disconnected and like he wasn't real. Was this even true? Had they rescued him? He had dishonored them with his mere presence if they had. Everything he believed and trusted in had been pulled thin. He wasn't sure what he could possibly do to make things better.

Jigen had refused to allow his death. Goemon was bound by that until he recovered. Or left. But the idea of leaving made him ill and made his lungs tighten around his heart. He didn't want to be alone.

He was truly pathetic. Goemon started shaking, months of rage and inactivity pouring out of himself. He knew they were listening to him weep. Let them. He had nothing left for them.

---

Jigen sat on the sofa in the hideout, meticulously cleaning and reassembling his Magnum, half listening to Goemon's shower running. As long as there weren't any really alarming noises, the guy deserved the chance to have a nice private breakdown, but if he heard Goemon pass out he wanted to be close enough to help.

Fujiko had claimed an armchair, and Lupin was on his feet, moving around and talking. You couldn't get Lupin to sit down after he'd pulled off something big, he had too much nervous energy. Jigen really didn't get that—he was all too happy to be seated, and as soon as he was satisfied with the condition of his gun, he was going to take over the rest of the sofa like usual—but he'd long ago accepted that it was just one of those Lupin things.

"So, while you spoke with your old friends, Fujiko and I started digging for information on the hows and whys," Lupin said, typing on his phone while he walked and talked. "You were right, they wanted to use him as a mindless assassin. I mean, I get the idea of having someone like him around. He's very good. But their work is so sloppy!" he fumed. "No respect for the art of thievery. Just brute force all the way. If you're going to steal one of Lupin the Third's people, you should at least have some finesse about it. It rankles my pride!" He was still typing.

Jigen bit back a soft, affectionate chuckle. It was really damn good to be home. "Did the information from Pops help?"

Lupin looked at him and grinned. "Yes! It was so smooth of you, Ji-ji. Was Pops any trouble? We can play a mean trick on him if he was!"

"No, he was great," Jigen said. "Didn't even try to cuff me once. Seriously, we owe him. I..." He shook his head. "Far as I'm concerned, he's the one who saved Goemon. He found him. I just did the scut work."

"Not even once?" Fujiko asked. "High praise from him."

"I think you're downplaying your role in all this, Jigen," Lupin said. "But I'm glad Pops was so helpful. I'm sending him an email and our love."

Jigen nodded, acknowledging the compliment without actually accepting it. "Might write him a note myself. If you don't mind." He finished reassembling his Magnum and started loading it carefully.

"Absolutely! I'll give you the phone in a moment," Lupin promised.

"It was quite the trail," Fujiko said, stretching. Lupin's eyes lit up, watching her move, but he was quickly drawn back to his phone. "Your information was exactly what we needed to move forward."

Jigen finished loading his Magnum, flipped it shut, and spun the cylinder with his thumb, making sure it rotated smoothly. Not that he minded breaking out the serious firepower when it was needed, quite the contrary, but the really big guns felt more... disposable. He'd never deliberately overheat the Magnum the way he'd done to the AK's. He might set up some targets later and get back to basics. Just him, his best gun, and his friends nearby.

"Glad it helped," he said gruffly, not looking at Fujiko. He didn't have much practice fielding compliments from her.

Fujiko huffed a small laugh. Lupin offered his phone to Jigen. "I love it when everyone gets along. Here. For Pops."

Jigen skimmed the email Lupin had already written, summing up the situation, then tapped out a short message of his own.

Thanks again, Pops. We couldn't have found him without you. It was close. He pondered for a couple of minutes, fidgeting with the edges of Lupin's phone case, then added, Buy the kid some steamed buns for me, yeah? The one who cooked up your fancy program. He deserves thanks too.—Jigen

"Hey, Lupin, catch," he said, and tossed the phone back to Lupin.

Lupin caught the phone, glanced over the message, and pressed send. He steepled his fingers in a V shape. "Hopefully this will help their investigation."

The bathroom door opened and Goemon stepped out in his yukata, the robe he wore for sleep. He lowered his head, not looking at anyone, and immediately went towards the bedroom. "Excuse me. I will sleep now."

Jigen looked ostentatiously at his watch, even though with the amount of timezone hopping he'd done on Goemon's trail it didn't tell him a damn thing about either their current local time or his own jet lag. "Honestly we might as well all turn in," he pointed out, hiding a dramatic yawn behind one hand.

Goemon nodded and went into the room.

Lupin gave him a look then closed his eyes, mouth flattening into a grimace at Goemon's stoic attitude. "What a fantastic idea. Fujicakes?" he asked, cheerfully.

"I… It never hurts to get a bit more beauty rest!" Fujiko said.

Jigen gave them both a slight nod, tipping his head up just enough to catch Lupin's eye from under his hat brim. I've got him, partner. You relax while you can. This one might take a while.

Lupin returned the look and nodded. I know. Good luck. "I have a few things to take care of, actually," he said aloud. "I'll be back later. Sleep well!"

Jigen settled back under his hat, stretched loudly, and arranged himself along the sofa, listening to Lupin turn off the lights. "Night-night, Jigen-chan!" he chirped. Fujiko headed down the hall, and Lupin went out the front door.

Jigen gave it a couple of minutes, tossing and turning a bit for effect, then sat up and took off his boots. He padded over to Goemon's room and knocked gently before opening the door. (Lupin, who would probably never learn to knock, regularly found himself on the business end of his partners' drawn weaponry. Jigen and Goemon respected each other's skills too much to barge in like that.)

"Hey, Goemon?" he called softly. "You mind if I sleep in here? This couch is absolute crap. I could find better in a dumpster." The couch was fine, probably more comfortable for Jigen than sharing Goemon's futon would be, but since Goemon never sat on Western furniture if he could help it, he couldn't possibly know the difference. And Jigen didn't expect Goemon to do well if he was left alone to sleep tonight.

Goemon was still for a long moment, then finally nodded in the darkened room. "Of course, Jigen. Please."

Jigen shut the door behind him and stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, dropping his clothes and hat tidily by the door. He pattered quietly over and lay down with Goemon, spooning up behind him. "This okay, buddy?" he murmured.

"Y-yes. This is fine," Goemon said. "Good night."

"Good night, Goemon," Jigen replied. He nuzzled his forehead into Goemon's soft fine hair and started to drift off.

---

It was dark around Goemon and he felt warmth around him. He was… where was he? Wherever he was, he was surrounded.

He lifted his hand and saw the stain of blood dripping from his fingertips. Goemon struggled with himself, looking down and seeing the way blood soaked his hakama.

Laughter echoed around him, whispers of what a worthless thing he was filling his ears. Only good to kill and not even very good at that. Dying because of his failure.

Goemon gasped and opened his eyes, terror in his chest. Where was he? Where was… He clutched at his yukata and felt the wetness from his sweat. The breathing behind him was familiar, a little raspy from decades of heavy smoking. Jigen.

Defeated. By nightmares. Unable to rescue himself. Failure. Goemon tried to calm himself, trying not to disturb the room. But he couldn't!

Jigen shifted behind him and patted his chest sleepily. "S'okay, G'emon," he mumbled. "You're here. You're safe."

He flushed in shame. "Yes. Of course," Goemon said, forcing his voice calm. "How foolish of me."

Jigen grunted and hugged him a little closer. "Foolish, my ass," he said simply. "Your brain's fucked to hell and back. You're probably going through some withdrawal from whatever shit they had you doped up on, too. You ain't gonna just..." He snapped his fingers.

Goemon didn't respond. He couldn't. He didn't deserve these sleepy reassurances.

Jigen reached up a bit to pat Goemon's face. "Look, I know how you are. You gotta be perfect all the time. But you can't. Nobody is." He settled back into place, his arm snugly around Goemon's waist. "You gotta let yourself heal, Goemon. You try to snap straight back to normal, it'll be like running on a broken thigh bone. You'll rip your leg in half and bleed out. You gotta..."

Goemon could feel Jigen shake his head, looking for words. He still didn't have any of his own.

"Look, man," Jigen continued, "I know how it is. Can't let anybody see you're having trouble. Well..." He hooked one bony knee around Goemon's neatly crossed ankles—Goemon was lying huddled up as he often did to sleep—and seemed to relax. "You got anything to talk about, you can let it out. I'm going back to sleep. Probably won't even remember it in the morning."

Goemon squeezed his eyes shut and let out a soft sob, letting himself have this. "I… Thank you, Jigen Daisuke," he said softly. He was safe. They hadn't forsaken him. "Who knows what they gave me?" Goemon said shakily.

Jigen shifted a bit. "...actually, Lupin should know. I didn't ask. Couldn't really get you anything to help while we were on the move. You want me to poke him now, or wait till morning? You might feel better if we can get something into you to help the withdrawal symptoms."

"Wait until morning," Goemon said. "Everyone worked tirelessly for me." Tears rolled down his face and he accepted the small comfort he could from Jigen's warm, angular frame holding him. "Thank you."

"I'm here," Jigen reassured him. "We're all here for you. Let us take care of you, okay?"

"I will, then," Goemon said. He took a deep breath and then another. "I don't recall what precisely occurred. It was a trap. That much I'm aware of. I was held in suspense, not knowing what was happening. I can't recall."

Jigen ran his fingers through Goemon's hair. "That's okay," he said.

"Perhaps it is best that way," Goemon said. "It seemed endless. I didn't think I'd escape, and even if I did, I would be rejected. If you hadn't abandoned me already. I suppose I should comprehend that none of you would do that."

He heard and felt Jigen pull in a long breath, then let it out slowly. "You were incredibly strong," Jigen said. "But white room torture does just that. Breaks all your connections. Makes you feel so alone you even lose yourself." His voice would have sounded steady to an outsider, but Goemon could hear the very slight hitch in his breathing. "Me, I'm just glad you were still in a shape to come with me willingly. Coulda been a lot rougher on both of us otherwise. But..." Goemon heard him pause for a bare second, thinking about his next words. "We ain't gonna abandon you. Not even Fujiko, I don't think. No matter how long it takes you to feel okay around... all of us again." It was obvious to Goemon that Jigen was avoiding saying around Lupin. They both knew.

Goemon didn't particularly feel very strong. "I was fraying," he admitted. "Once Zantetsuken was taken from my hand… I was unraveling. I don't know how I was," Goemon said. "But thank you very much."

Jigen nodded. "There's this French art technique for fixing damaged cloth," he said, sounding like he wasn't quite sure if the story was going to end up where he wanted it to. "Invisible weaving or something like that. Lupin showed it to me once, 'cause of course he knows that kind of shit. You take the same thread as the damaged piece, and you do something real precise and finicky with following the exact line of the threads that are left, and you think it's never gonna be done and then you blink a couple times and you can't even tell where the damn hole was." He tucked some of Goemon's hair behind his ear. "Um. Anyway. Point is. Goemon the swordsman's still got it, we proved that. There's enough threads that we can reweave Goemon the man. It'll just take time."

Goemon sniffed and wiped his face. "That's good. That's really good," he said. "Of course Lupin the Third can do that. He is very tricky."

Jigen chuckled, deep and fond. "He is," he said. "Anything you wanted to talk out about... that? Nothing you say here leaves this room, by the way. 'Less you tell me to carry a message. I know how to keep another guy's secrets."

Goemon breathed in and out and then again. "For some reason, the hallucinations I recall were all him. Mocking me. Telling me that I was nothing to him. That I could be replaced. It's so foolish."

Jigen patted Goemon's chest again. "You're not cut out to be a ronin, Goemon. Being valued by your master is really important to you. Lupin's..." He laughed wryly. "Not what you'd call a traditional master at all, but he's the man we've both sworn our weapons to, in our own ways. It only makes sense that you'd fear losing his respect." He tucked his chin over Goemon's shoulder, his beard brushing Goemon's cheek, and hugged him tighter for a brief second, then settled back behind him. "It's not foolish. Just 'cause he didn't actually say those things, doesn't mean it didn't do any harm. It's a wound you gotta clean out and stitch up, like any other."

Goemon's breath hitched. He nodded quickly and wiped his face. "I make my ancestors weep, probably."

Jigen huffed a small laugh. "Call me an ugly American and smack me if you need to, but—if your ancestors ain't proud of you, then fuck 'em, they're wrong."

Goemon laughed in surprise. "You're allowed this time," he teased. "Thank you."

"Anytime," Jigen said, teasing back. "How you doing? Little better?"

"Yes," Goemon said. "I'm not. I’m not completely. But I will be with your help."

"I don't expect you to be completely okay," Jigen assured him. "I know you're gonna have more nightmares and bad days. We've all been tortured too, you know. Me, Fujiko, even Lupin. Long as you let us try to help, we will." He ruffled Goemon's hair gently again. "Even if you try to push us away. You know how grouchy I get when I'm laid up. It's the same thing. You're recovering. We won't hate you or reject you. Just... don't wander off too far, huh?" Goemon could hear the slight tautness of worry under his voice.

"I… I don't want to be alone," Goemon admitted. "I will wander. But now. I cannot."

Jigen clasped Goemon's wrist for a moment. "You'll heal," he promised. "You're resilient. And someday we'll stop twitching when you're out of our sight for more than five minutes." He tried to turn that admission into a joke with a dry little laugh. "It's gonna take time," he said. "Patience. But at least that's something we both have."

"We're the only ones," Goemon said. "But I will endeavor to be more forthcoming with my location."

Jigen snorted. "Two out of four people ain't bad, right?" He rolled onto his back for a moment with a yawn and a full-body stretch, then cuddled back up to Goemon. "I can bunk with you for as long as you'd like company at night. But it'd be nice to have at least another futon in here, if I can't talk you into a real bed. A single futon's pretty narrow for two."

"Thank you. We can decide later," Goemon said. "We'll discuss it."

Jigen nodded. "Feel like trying for some more sleep?"

"Yes," Goemon said. "I'm so very exhausted. I hate this."

"Fair," Jigen said. "You'll probably need to just sleep and eat for a while. Think of it as a different kind of training." He snickered. "I can be your sensei. I'm an expert at napping as much as possible, after all."

Goemon snorted and started laughing. "Thank you. I'll do my best, Sensei."

"You're an excellent student," Jigen told him. Goemon could hear the grin in his voice. "I'm sure you'll learn quickly."

"This helps," Goemon said. "We should practice now."

Jigen's deep chuckle rumbled against his back. "Great idea," Jigen agreed. "Night, Goemon."

"Night."

Chapter 11

Goemon sat on the porch in his yukata, Zantetsuken across his legs. He had been recovering for some time now. His sleep was much better. He couldn't make himself meditate at the moment. But it would come.

Jigen was asleep against the tree in the yard within his sight. Lupin had been around, on the edge of his vision. They would have to speak soon. He was almost ready.

Fujiko knelt down by him and set down a little tray with two cups of green tea and his favorite matcha crackers. "Goemon," she said simply, offering him her hand.

"Fujiko," Goemon responded and took it. He squeezed her hand gently and released it.

"You're doing much better. I'm very proud of you," Fujiko said, kissing his cheek.

Goemon flushed bright red. "Th-thank you. I'm trying my best."

She sat down next to him and picked up one of the cups of tea. "I'm leaving soon."

Goemon nodded and picked up the other cup. "I expected as much. It's in your nature to move like the waves."

She held her pinkie finger out. "I promise to come for you if you call. Or if you need."

Goemon clasped her finger with his own. "I promise."

They sat together quietly for a few moments, drinking their tea. "How is Lupin?" Goemon asked.

Fujiko hummed a bit. "You'll need to ask him yourself."

Goemon huffed. "Understood, Miss Fujiko."

She laughed, bright and friendly. "So polite. I like it."

"Thank you for coming. I'm happy you did," Goemon told her.

"I like you best. Don't tell anyone," Fujiko told him mischievously. She kissed his cheek and stood, her footfalls light as air.

So. It was fast approaching time to face Lupin.

---

Lupin was sitting on the roof of the hideout, legs crossed, watching Goemon training in the yard below. The samurai looked better, filled out a bit more, and seeing him back in his usual clothes and at his usual training was honestly a relief. Lupin felt confident that Goemon would be alright now.

But something had happened. There was still a crack in their relationship. He finally thought he understood why both Fujicakes and Goemon had wanted definitions for what he thought of them.

Well, perhaps not entirely. He didn't work that way. But he definitely wanted to know if this was going to change things irreparably. If he was going to lose what Goemon was to him, his friend and rival. It was almost funny, the way things reversed.

The sounds of kiai and sword slashes faded below him, and a couple of soft thumps signaled Goemon's jump up to the porch roof and then to the higher roof where Lupin was sitting. Lupin glanced up and exhaled, giving Goemon a tight smile. "The wind is nice up here."

Goemon nodded and settled beside him with a rustle of cloth. "It is very nice. Lupin…"

Lupin glanced over at him. "I'm sorry it took me so long to find you," he said. "I know. I never explain, I never apologize. But I should have found you much faster."

"You sent Jigen for me," Goemon said.

"Yes. I had to find the ones that ordered you taken. So Fujiko and I worked on that while Jigen went after you."

Goemon nodded simply, waiting for Lupin to continue.

“We tracked them to where they had been hiding. The smug bastards were letting their cult handle you. Which was their second mistake. The first was daring to take you,” Lupin said, feeling his anger fill him again. He forced himself to calm, not changing his facial expression. Goemon was spooked by him. Because of them. He hated them even more.

“Why?” Goemon asked.

Good old Goemon and his one-word questions. "While training under Momoichi, you ended their entire gang because of some sort of rivalry. One of your first jobs. You were exceptional and destroyed them. Turns out the head of the organization had some children hidden away," Lupin explained. "They regrew the organization, shifting it into this weird brainwashing cult situation. For revenge, they were going to shatter you and force you to become their weapon. I couldn't allow such a thing."

“Because?” the samurai asked, looking at him. He didn’t have quite the haunted look that he had. Lupin prayed that was a sign of good things to come.

Lupin smiled wryly. "Because you're magnificent and I need you to stay you. Change is inevitable. But forcing you into something unalive, losing your vibrancy?" He leaned forward dramatically, raising a finger. "Unacceptable. I need you to be my rival and my ally. My friend. To challenge me in ways Zenigata never could. I need you to be on my team." He grinned, predatory, smug, in the way only Lupin III could grin. "I'm very selfish and greedy, Goemon. I need the best around me. And I can't accept it when upstarts hurt the people I treasure."

Goemon regarded him with a thoughtful expression. He nodded. “I was sure you’d be annoyed by my failure and reject me. That my presence would shame you. I thought you’d be irritated that your toy wasn’t strong enough to not… fray. That your toy was worthless,” Goemon flushed, embarrassed. “However, that wasn’t correct, was it?”

Lupin immediately shook his head no. He opened his mouth to refute that but Goemon held up a hand to stop him.

“I’m not… You don’t see me as a toy. Or an object. I’m more than that. We’re friends, allies and rivals. I’m not just a treasure for you. I’m not something to be kept,” Goemon said, watching him.

“Yes. Yes, that exactly,” Lupin told him. “I’m so glad we found you,” he said. “Uh… you might be mad at me though. I understand if you are. But, uh,” Lupin paused. He wasn’t sorry at all about this but, after some... uh, pointed remarks from Jigen, he could see Goemon being upset with him for it. Hopefully this confession didn’t break what was already fragile between them. "I took my revenge for them capturing you. I—probably should've let you do it."

Honestly, he hadn't really thought that part through until Jigen brought it up. There were reasons, excuses: Goemon hadn't been in any shape to take his own revenge; Lupin had tracked down the bosses while Jigen was still on Goemon's trail; Goemon would have killed the woman prisoner too quickly and simply for Lupin to get the information he wanted from her. But the real reason, or at least the private reason, was simple: Nobody took Lupin's people and lived. "But those that hurt you are dead. I made sure of it."

Goemon furrowed his brow. “I find I don’t actually mind,” he said. “Surprising, isn't it? But they’re dead. I was found. I wasn’t in a position to do it myself, and I would rather have them dealt with than believing that they won.”

Lupin felt relieved. He sighed and relaxed. He hadn't ruined things after all. “Thank you,” he said.

“I’m glad you found me as well,” Goemon said. “It’s taking time to recover.”

"You can have all of the time you need," Lupin promised him. "Thank you for staying with us."

"Thank you for allowing me," Goemon told him.

Lupin smiled and offered his hand. "Always."

Goemon took his hand, shook it and then kept hold of it. "It's going to be a long journey. But it's going well."

"You're doing excellently," Lupin told him. "Do I need to stay away?"

"No. Please return to being obnoxious."

Lupin started laughing, delighted. He leaned over and kissed Goemon's cheek. "Welcome back."

---

There was a quietness in the hideout.

Goemon meditated in his usual spot, silent and peaceful as ever. Jigen was sleeping on the couch, soft snores drifting from under his hat.

Lupin smiled, feeling his whole heart dance with joy. His people were home.