Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Uh huh. Yes. I understand.”

The cool, crisp evening breeze filtered down the street, brushing past windows as small businesses flipped around their open signs.

“Of course. I’ll prepare for Monday’s meeting, then. Thank you. Goodbye.” Zenigata tapped the end call button and tucked away his cellphone as his rusty red trench coat lazily swung about his legs. He took a deep breath, glancing at his watch and then at the train schedule. After a few long moments, the train coasted down the rail and came to a stop, doors opening to let a few young passengers off. The detective waited a moment to let them pass, briefly tipping his hat before boarding the train.

Paper bag of groceries on his lap, he calmly stared out at the passing city. In his mind, the image of Lupin falling to the ground, surrounded by smoke...he shook his head. He’s not dead. It’s far too perfectly vague.

A short walk from his stop later, Zenigata fumbled with his keys and opened the door to his apartment. Inside it was quiet, small, and dark. He frowned, flipping the light switch and removing his shoes. Briefly glancing over his shoulder, he rolled his eyes.

“You’re allowed to turn on the lights, you know,” he said as he placed the brown bag on the kitchen counter. He trekked back into the entryway, removing his coat and hat as he did.

“You were going to be home soon, and my screen is illuminated,” Ami explained monotonously. “There was no need to get up and flip the switch and stop what I was doing.”

Zenigata sighed, closing the closet door and placing his hat on a nearby hook. He briefly paused on his way back to his bedroom, cocking an eyebrow at the petite redhead sitting cross legged in the corner. “...glued to your screens, as always…” he muttered, removing his suit jacket. If Ami had heard him, she gave no indication.

Silence lingered in the air, interrupted only by brief chops of a knife on a cutting board. Scrape scrape. Chop. Chop. Scrape.

Zenigata tapped his knife. “Would you like to help me wash up these dishes while I get dinner ready?” He flatly suggested...or rather, stated.

Ami blinked up in his direction, taking a moment to think. “...I guess I could. You are letting me stay here, it’s only fair I contribute some services,” she said as she put down her tablet and walked the short distance to the kitchen. She rolled up her sleeves and dunked the nearby washcloth into the sink. “What are you making?”

Zenigata placed the pork pieces in a pot and flipped on the burner. “Tonjiru. I picked up some fresh vegetables on my way home from work.”

Ami glanced at the piles of prepared vegetables, pausing in her scrubbing. “Hello, Underworld.” At the sound of her command phrase, her earrings flickered to life, listening for her query. “Search keyword: Tonjiru Recipe.” She continued to scrub at the cutting board as the device began reading off a list of ingredients and preparing procedures. She pointed at the piles of vegetables. “You are missing some ingredients.”

Zenigata sighed, patiently keeping his mouth shut until now. “According to your internet thing, yes, I am. But I’m also adding different things as well. It’s a soup, not an event schedule. Everyone makes it their own way.”

“I suppose you are correct. Do you set aside the cooked pork or do you cook everything all together? Do you do that every time? Is that how you were raised to-”

“Enough!” Zenigata shouted, stirring the now sizzling meat. “It’s a damn meal, one that I have been cooking for years. Who cares how I make it every time, as long as it turns out fine in the end!” He gave the pot another stir, grinding his teeth. “Instead of asking the internet to show you how it’s made, why don’t you just ask me? I would be a far better teacher. Recipes don’t give you everything you need to know.”

Ami placed the rinsed cutting board on the nearby dish rack. “You never offered to teach me anything.”

Heat bubbled up in Zenigata’s face. As quick as his mouth opened, he slammed his teeth shut and scoffed, focusing on the pork sizzling in the oil. Ami continued washing in silence, even as he handed off the bowls that had held the cut vegetables before they were tossed into the mix. Once finished, she flicked the excess water from her hands and dabbed them dry with a plain kitchen towel. 

Zenigata replaced the pot lid and set the soup to a soft simmer. “It will be ready soon,” he said, flatly, as he rummaged about in his cupboards to retrieve cutlery, bowls and glasses. He brushed past Ami and began setting the low table in the living space, arranging mats so the two would have a place to sit.

As he busied himself with the setting, Ami loomed over the stove, staring down at the bubbling stew beneath the glass lid. She furrowed her brow; it was still unusual to her how people bothered to waste time preparing something they were simply going to eat for sustenance. Sure, this seemed like a simple enough recipe, but why go through all the trouble of adding spices and broth? Cooking food over heat should be enough to make them edible and proper for human consumption. Taste simply did not matter in the end.

“Amy, can you flip the burner off and dish up two bowls?” Ami jumped as Zenigata’s voice boomed from directly behind her.

She quickly regained her composure. “It’s Ami. And yes, I can-” she reached over and flipped the dial. Zenigata busied himself with filling two bowls with rice from his rice cooker.

Once the two were seated, Ami picked up the chopsticks and stabbed them into the rice-

“Whoa, not yet!” Zenigata growled, reached over to snatch the girl’s wrist. When Ami shot him a confused expression, he sat up straight and clapped his hands together. “Itadakimasu!” he said with a small bow. He then motioned a hand to her. “You’re supposed to say that before you eat.”

“That’s completely pointless,” Ami blankly stared at her host, hand still firmly clasping the chopsticks in the rice.

Zenigata glared up at her from beneath his brow as he snapped his chopsticks apart. “It’s tradition. The point is to give thanks for your meal.” He plucked a potato and a piece of pork from his bowl.

Ami sighed, clapping her hands together with a lazy “Itadakimasu.” She then proceeded, now free from Zenigata’s halting grip.

After about a minute of silence, Zenigata glanced up at his guest. She had slowed her chewing, staring down at her meal with a mystified glaze in her eyes. He took a quick sip of his soup. “Everything okay?”

She blinked, poking her chopsticks at a floating chunk of pork. “...Yeah,” she hummed, unusually….unsure. “It’s just that....I don’t mind this. Well, by that I mean...I’m finding the process of consuming this meal to be...pleasant?”

Zenigata interrupted her with a loud, hearty laugh, startling her for just a moment. She looked up at his sprawling grin as he said, “It tastes good, is what you’re trying to say. Have you ever had tonjiru before? The trick is to not boil the soup much after you add the miso. It retains the flavour better that way.”

Ami blinked. “Interesting. The recipe didn’t mention anything about that,” she hummed softly, collecting up some sticky rice. “You’d think that would be important if the end goal was to enhance the taste.”

With a gruff sigh, Zenigata placed his finished bowl on the small table. “...The internet isn’t the be-all-end-all to everything. Some things you can only learn through experiences. Which is why-”

“Are you going to tell me I should be in school again?” Ami said quickly between bites of pork and potato. “I appreciate your consistency to some degree, but I can learn all I need to know without taking classes, and supplement that education with experiences separately.”

Zenigata slammed a fist on the table, bouncing the whole setting a good half inch in the air. “Amy! You’re missing the point. You’re only 15! Children need to get a proper education, and you’ve already missed so much!” His gaze unexpectedly softened, and his voice lowered. “It’s the correct thing to do.”

“Correct? Or just another one of your traditions?” Ami furrowed her brow. “There’s more than one way to do things, and the act of practicing tradition historically shows a lack of progressing forward. It holds you back.”

“It teaches you to be a good person,” Zenigata flatly said, hard eyes burning a hole into Ami. She could feel the heat of his glare deep in her chest. “It’s about laying a proper foundation. It’s about grounding you in hearty morals.” His voice produced nary a waver. Strong and stern, like a stone monument in a storm. The silence started to grow uncomfortable beneath the intensity. Finally, Zenigata tidied up his dishes and retreated to the kitchen, a deep lumber in his step.

Ami sipped the last of her soup, eyeing the man out of the corner of her eye. Clinging to morals and foundations lead to failure, she hummed in her mind. There are countless tales that attest to that, fiction and non-fiction alike.

Once the kitchen was tidied up, Zenigata briefly retreated to his bedroom, returning shortly with a thick futon, a pillow, and a blanket. He laid the futon out on the floor, fluffing it as he went, making up a small bed in the middle of the room opposite of his television. With a small groan of relief, he took a seat at the small table, crossing his legs and flicking the television on with a remote. “You’ll be sleeping over there tonight,” he thumbed to the bed. “It’s only proper to keep a spare futon just in case.”

“Ah, thank you,” Ami said as she sat down, repositioning the pillow. She slid out of her sweater, tossing it to the floor and tucked herself in.

The room was filled with the soft sound of the evening news report, peppered with commercials and promotions. One report touched on the Lupin Game, how it seemed to die out initially before resurging with a dark twist, and how it was possible the great thief had, in fact, met his match in the deadly game. Zenigata scoffed and shook his head, muttering something quietly under his breath.

As the hour got late, Zenigata eventually flicked off the television and slipped into his room, bidding Ami a good night before closing the door. The young girl returned the words and rolled over to face the wall.

Before she faded into sleep, her mind circled with Lupin’s plan. She wondered how long she would have to wait, how he was planning to contact her. But most of all, she wondered about Zenigata...he and Lupin were clearly close, yet the news of his death only seemed to frustrate the detective, rather than upset him.

The next morning, Ami stirred awake to the sound of something sizzling sweet. She briefly bunched the blankets about her face, savouring the cozy warmth, before peeking out from beneath. Zenigata was in the kitchen, in blue and white striped boxers and a thin undershirt, poking and flipping some fish on a small pan grill. He looked tired.

Ami yawned, stretching her arms out above her head. “Good morning,” she calmly greeted him. He returned the greeting with a short huff, never pausing in his task. Sitting up, she carefully looked her host over from head to toe, taking note of his posture, the bags under his eyes, and his chunky, yet practiced movements. “...You must not have gotten a lot of REM sleep last night.”

Zenigata froze for just a moment, glancing at her to cock a curious eyebrow. “I didn’t get a lot of what?” he flatly asked.

“REM sleep,” Ami pointed a finger in the air. “Rapid Eye Movement sleep. It is the deepest and most important stage of the sleeping cycle. During this time your body repairs tissues and strengthens your immune system. Essentially, it’s where you get the most proper rest.”

Zenigata squinted at Ami, then turned back to his task of folding his omelette. “Sure, whatever.”

“I learned that from researching it on the internet. Did they teach you that in school?” Ami dusted off her pants and headed into the bathroom.

Once she was finished, she opened the door to see Zenigata setting the last couple of plates on his little living room table. He only shot her an exhausted glare before taking his seat. “Itadakimasu,” he quietly mumbled over his meal, prompting Ami to do the same as she sat down.

Ami didn’t get it. Every part of this meal took time to prepare, and some things she felt were very unnecessary; the folds in the omelette, the seasoning on the fish...why had he bothered to waste time on that? If it were her, she would have just scrambled a couple of eggs in a pan and called it a morning. Far more efficient. Regardless, she acknowledged that despite the inefficiencies, she never had to lift a finger.

“Thank you for the meal,” Ami quietly said after a short time. “I find some of the details unnecessary, but it tastes very good.”

Zenigata smiled, taking a gentle sip of his coffee. “I’m glad you like it.”

They ate in relative silence for the next few minutes, save for the calm clink of dishware. Eventually, Zenigata collected up his dishes and filled the sink with soapy water, Ami following close behind with her own. She dutifully dried off the dishes he washed and found their places, with a few questions here and there.

“From what I understand of common practice, Saturday is a day off of work,” Ami said, closing the cupboard and neatly folding the dish towel on the counter. “A free day to do whatever you like to pass the time; will you be…” she paused, finding the right way to word her query. “...spending time considering Lupin’s death? Mourning, perhaps? This would be the time to do so.” She fidgeted with her phone for a moment, before realizing the radio silence her questions had received. She turned to glance over her shoulder.

Zenigata knelt on the floor, rolling up her futon and folding her blanket. His face was set in a hard, ineffable expression. Ami raised an eyebrow. “..Well? Did you hear-”

“I heard you,” Zenigata snapped back, grunting with effort as he stood hugging the futon and blanket to himself. He turned to return to his room, stuffing the closet full with all the bedding, including his own.

Ami waited for him to return before asking once again. “So, what are you planning on doing today?”

He sighed, annoyed. “Laundry.”

“Laundry?”

“Yes, laundry. I get an early start on it on Saturdays, if I can,” he said, collecting up a laundry bag and beginning to fill it. There was a pause as he reached for her sweater, which still lay crumpled on the floor. He glanced at Ami, surveying her clothes...the same ones she had been wearing for the past couple of days, including through the desert heat. “...Do you have a change of clothes? I think it’s best to wash up what you’re wearing right now.”

Ami shook her head. “No, I didn’t have time to pack anything when I was leaving. This is fine, though. I don’t mind.”

Zenigata huffed. “Well, that just won’t do. We should pick you up some new clothes and get them washed.” He paused, glancing away with a faint blush on his face. “...we should definitely pick up a few changes.”

“You’re talking about underwear, right?”

Zenigata glared in her direction, a little annoyed at her bluntness. “...Yes. It’s proper hygiene.” He tossed the hoodie to her and tied the bag shut. “Here, there’s a department store nearby. We’ll stop by there before we head to the laundromat to get what you need.”

A few hundred yen and a change in the laundromat bathroom later, Ami sat next to Zenigata, watching the whirl of clothes spin clockwise inside the drum. He sternly folded his arms, sitting upright and pouting his lower lip in concentration. She tugged the hem of her new pastel blue t-shirt, a shirt that was one of 3 that were taken off the sale rack near the register. He was right, I do feel much more comfortable in fresh clothes, she thought, calmly acknowledging it as fact. It made sense when she thought about it, clean fabric made it easier for the skin to breath, and any human felt more satisfied when stripped of their layers of collected grime. Even she admitted taking the time to clean oneself was worth the effort.

Again, she felt a familiar ping of gratitude cross her mind. “Thank you for the new clothes. You didn’t have to-”

“Of course I had to,” Zenigata said without shifting in his seat. “It was the right thing to do. What you were wearing was filthy.”

She blinked up at him, then back to the circling drum. “Well, I could have paid for it. I do have money saved up in an online account that-”

“Nonsense,” Zenigata sighed, closing his eyes. “I don’t know where you got that money from and I don’t want to. I would have done it regardless. But, since we have the time, we should talk.” He opened one eye to look down at the redhead. “Things are a little hot right now, and we’re going to have to lay low. That means setting some ground rules.”

Ami pulled her legs up to her chest. “Alright, that makes a bit of sense, I suppose. What are your propositions?”

“No exiting the apartment without my express supervision. No revealing anything online as to your whereabouts. Don’t speak too much to anybody, but also don’t draw attention to yourself. Stay inside as much as you can. You won’t have to worry about food or anything like that; I’ll be sure to keep you fed and cared for. I promised him I would.” His eyes briefly grew dark at the brief mention of Lupin, but he pressed on. “But if you’re going to be staying with me, you’ll have to do your fair share of cleaning and tidying up after yourself. Floors, dishes, taking out the trash...don’t expect me to do everything for you.”

Ami pressed her cheek into her knee, gently kneading at it. “That sounds fair enough.”

“I don’t know how long we’ll have to live with these arrangements, but as far as any stranger on the street knows, we’re just an ordinary family of two going about our lives. Stay out of sight on weekdays so that it’s assumed you’re attending school. I’ll continue to go to work every morning like I always do.”

“Even though you won’t be doing anything?” Ami quietly asked.

Zenigata nodded. “No matter the situation, I have to keep up appearances as though nothing has changed. I’m keeping you safe.”

Ami looked up at him again, surveying his unwavering expression. He seemed to be thinking, deep underneath all his talk. She still found it strange that he wasn’t upset. “...Zenigata?”

“Hm?”

Ami blinked, her mind suddenly going blank with realization. She was considering...telling him? No, Lupin told her to keep it secret from everybody. “....how long does this generally take?” She nodded toward the washing machine in its endless vortex.

He furrowed his brow, directing his analytic stare at her for a few uncomfortable moments. Finally, he broke his concentration and sighed. “A couple of hours. Once the washing is done we toss them in the dryer. We only have two loads to do.”

“What are we supposed to do in the meantime?”

Zenigata shrugged. “Some people bring books, students will bring homework...I’ve even seen some folks fall asleep. I don’t have a lot, so I just sit and wait.”

Ami pulled out her tablet. “That sounds like a boring way to pass the time. Without a distraction, it only feels like it takes longer.” She went quiet as small sounds started to play from the tablet, and after a few moments it was followed by a small laugh. Zenigata glanced down at Ami, who didn’t smile and laugh nearly as often as a girl her age should. Some videos were playing on her screen, and he watched as a cat made to leap across a gap to a windowsill, instead losing traction on the slippery counter and falling out of the camera frame. Ami giggled some more, and then another video, another cat, another giggle.

“What are these? Who took all these videos?” Zenigata leaned over to get a better look at the screen. A cat came marching into the living room, took a look at a stuffed sheep, and started to prance away in a side-hopping fashion.

Ami angled the screen so he could see it better. “A bunch of people, all over the world. Somebody compiled them into one video for the simple convenience of others. Ah-! I wasn’t expecting the owl!” she gasped, the video showing a particularly fat cat lying on the top of a fence looking to the camera in alarm just after a large barn owl swooped down from a tree above it. The owl seemed to have made a last minute decision not to snatch up the large cat, instead barely brushing it’s feathers over the cat’s fur and flying off into another tree. “It perhaps was confused by the black and white spotting on the fur, and didn’t realize how large the prey was before it got close enough to see.”

“Uh huh, I see…” Zenigata scratched at his chin, another cat being startled by an ambush from a cat tree. He didn’t know too much about the internet, just enough to use search engines and look up locations and send emails, but he never would have thought to look up shared videos of other people’s pets doing silly things. Although, when he thought about it, people loved showing pictures and videos of their pets or children to others, so the ability to share online with millions of viewers would be understandably enticing. “Oh! I didn’t even realize he was there!” He exclaimed as a shaggy brown cat emerged from a bathroom rug, perfectly camouflaged.

Ami scooted a bit closer, so that her hip was bumped up against his. With a shared screen and Ami’s excellent picks in mindless entertainment, the two laughed at the passing jokes, slapstick and animal fumbles. Occasionally Ami had to pause and explain the significance of a joke, since Zenigata wasn’t quite up to date with the younger audience’s meme culture, but he patiently let her fill him in.

They nearly missed the dinging of the dryer as it finished the final load of laundry. Zenigata hopped up to empty the machine as Ami helped him fold up the last of his white linen shirts and pack them into his laundry bag, then they were back to the apartment.

As Zenigata fumbled around in his pocket for his keys, a familiar voice shrilled from just down the walkway. “Ko-chan!” Zenigata jolted at the sound, turning sharply to spot his landlady comin up the stairs. She was a boisterously friendly old lady, who treated each of her tenants like her own children; even if said tenant was a middle aged bachelor.

“Ah! Ms. Tanaka! How has your morning been? I didn’t notice you on my way in,” he easily slid into the usual conversation. She really was a sweet old lady, just a little... much sometimes.

“It’s been a good morning, Ko-chan!” She bumbled up to Zenigata, dwarfed by his height but not overshadowed by it. She reached up a hand and squeezed him on the arm, smiling ear to ear. “You’re such a good lad, getting your laundry done so early in the morning. Ah! And who is this?” Her attention immediately shifted to Ami, who found herself literally tucking in behind Zenigata for shelter. There was no hiding from Ms. Tanaka. “A shy little one, ain’t she?”

Ami nervously cracked a smile. She wasn’t sure what to say, but she gave a little wave. “Hi, Ms. Tanaka! It’s nice um...to meet you?” As covertly as possible, she tugged on the back of Zenigata’s shirt to voice her concern.

“Ah! So cute! Look at that hair....my dear, you could use a bit of a haircut! A few clips and it would be right as rain! Such a lovely colour…” she trailed off, taking a glance up at Zenigata, then back to Ami, then to Zenigata again. Her eyes started to turn to saucers.

Zenigata, panicked, lifted his hands and said. “No, wait, it’s not-”

“KO-CHAN!!!” She exclaimed, scandalously clutching her pearls. “You rascal, you never told me!”

“Ms. Tanaka, it’s not-”

“My word!”

“-just listen-”

Ms. Tanaka took his hands in her’s, squeezing them with the tightest grip that only a little old lady could master. “Oh, don’t you worry, my sweet little Ko-chan! I would never judge you for past indiscretions. I know you’re a hard working, caring man! Lord knows I’ve made mistakes in my youth, as well. She’s a beautiful young lady, you should be proud!” She released him and turned to Ami. “Your father is a kind man. I’m certain he will take excellent care of you. If you need anything, my apartment is just downstairs!”

Ami snuggled closer to Zenigata’s arm, trying to stay out of Ms. Tanaka’s reach. “Yes, that sounds good, thank you,” she said, looking out from behind her bangs.

“Okay, well, I have to go downtown before I’m late. My grandson is visiting! He’s been so busy with work, and I have to make sure he’s eating well. Have a good rest of your day!”

Zenigata released the breath he had been holding, slouching forward with agonized relief, then turned to finish unlocking his door. Ami followed him inside.

“...Is….that going to be a problem?” She finally said, cautiously pointing to the door.

Zenigata sighed, shaking his head. “No, fortunately she’s like that with...everybody. So nobody really takes her seriously. If her grandson is in town she’ll be far too preoccupied to focus on us. We’ll be safe, for now.”

“So, I’m to presume we…. aren’t going to tell her?”

He chuckled, “no, that will just invite her to ask questions. And trust me, you don’t want to be interrogated by Ms. Tanaka.”

Ami nodded, dropping the subject and going to the bathroom to look at herself in the mirror. Her hair was getting a little unruly, she had brushed it down this morning, but it probably could use a little trim. She poked around the drawers a bit, searching for a pair of scissors. When she couldn’t find any, she popped her head into Zenigata’s room, where he was just finishing up putting away his laundry. “Zenigata?”

“Yes?”

“Do you have a pair of scissors around here?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “What do you need those for?”

Ami felt some heat rush to her face, realizing her illogical decision based on the ramblings of an old landlady. She looked away. “I was going to….cut my hair.”

Zenigata laughed, closing up his closet door. “A little insecure, are we?” He crouched down in front of her and tugged at a few pieces, humming to himself. “It does look a little rough. Let’s see what we can do.”

“You don’t need to help me, I’ve always cut my own hair.”

“That explains why it’s so uneven.”

Ami blushed, startled by his bold accusation. Sure, it was true she didn’t usually use a mirror, and that she would use whatever was around, and generally didn’t care too much about how it looked....okay, maybe he was right. She followed him into the living room, and in a few moments he had her sit down on the floor in front of him, a brush in one hand and scissors in the other. She flinched a little at the first few snips, bothered that she couldn’t see what he was doing. The brush against her head felt very calming, however, and she sat as still as she could while he worked.

“It’s not the best in the world, but it looks a bit cleaner than it did,” Zenigata finally announced, fluffing a section with his rough fingers. Small chunks of wine red locks littered the floor. He sat back for a moment to admire his handiwork.

Overall he kept the shape similar to what she had before, trimming away her split ends and evening out some layers. Her hair was a bit wavy, so a few spots stuck out and he wasn’t sure how to fix those. For now the cut would do.

“Thank you,” Ami said as she fussed with her bangs. Again, she found herself appreciating his help. So far she hadn’t needed to expend much time or energy of her own. He cooked for her, tidied up, washed her clothes, and even fixed her hair. All without complaint or expectation of a returned favour. It was a little hard to understand; surely he wanted something in return? “You’ve been doing a lot for me. I appreciate the attention, but it feels a little one sided at this point.”

Zenigata finished tossing the last of the hair into his trash. “I don’t mind. But if you promise me you’ll consider attending a proper school, that’d make me happy.”

Ah, Ami frowned, looking down at her hands. There’s always an angle, even with him. “I still think school is unnecessary at this point. I already know how to do math, the scientific method, the general history of Japan-”

“Then you can excel at it,” Zenigata shrugged, wiping down his kitchen counter. “And get yourself a diploma as proof to the rest of the world that you’re educated. Some jobs don’t hire highschool dropouts.”

“I’m perfectly capable of making money online-”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Zenigata shouted, snapping her sentence to a halt. “Whatever you’re doing, it’s not right for a young girl. You should be hanging out with friends your age, going to the mall, gossiping about magazines, watching movies.”

“I already gossip and chat with my friends online.”

Zenigata sighed, tossing his dishrag in the sink. “It’s not the same. Human interaction isn’t something that can be simulated so easily. It’s far too complex.”

“You’ve said that before,” Ami flicked on the television, surfing through the channels for something to mindlessly watch. “I still think you’re wrong in your assertions. You’re too lost in your traditions to appreciate-”

“I appreciate plenty!” Zenigata slammed a cupboard shut, startling Ami a little. “And watch your tone, young lady. I’ve had decades more experience than you in this life, and I only want what is best for you.”

Ami tucked her knees up under her chin as she continued to flick through the stations. “Just because you’re pretending to be my dad doesn’t mean you have to get so lost in the role. I can take care of myself.”

Zenigata growled, a thousand reprimands knocking about in his head as his shoulders shook. He snapped his attention away from her and took a deep breath. After a long, forced calming moment, he made his way to the front door. “I’m going for a walk. Stay here and stay out of trouble. I have my phone if you need me,” he glowered in a low, seething voice. He tossed on his coat and his hat and left, locking the door behind himself.

Ami put down the remote and laid on her back, staring up at the ceiling. He’s being irrational, she grimaced, stretching her arms behind her head. Despite the logical reasoning, she still felt a strange pang in her chest. With an intense concentration, she tried to identify this feeling. It was heavy, and tight. The more she thought about their conversation, their current predicament, the tighter the feeling got. She rolled over and pulled out her phone, hovering over the internet search engine, completely blank while she searched for the right words to type in.

She waited, and thought, and waited some more. Her mind kept jumping back to what she said and what she was hiding. After a while she lay flat again and stared at the ceiling, pouting. Is this...guilt? The word seemed to echo in her own ears. I have said a few harsh things to him, I suppose. Despite that he still helps me without question. And after everything he’s done...I’m still hiding the fact that Lupin is still alive from him. She sat up, briefly putting her attention on the cheesy soap opera on the television screen. I guess when it comes down to it, I’m in no position to refute him. I’m already lying to him, I can go along with his beliefs for now. It’s the least I could do.

As she turned the television off, having watched not even a minute’s worth of programming, she felt a confused heat come to her face. Even after all that navigation and pondering, coming to a conclusion, there was still a strange feeling left behind. Like the solution she got was correct...but not entirely explained. Ami groaned and stood up to poke around in the kitchen, finding Zenigata’s small pantry and sifting through what was inside. There wasn’t much for snacking in there, not that she felt that hungry. She moved on to peek in the fridge, then look through some cupboards, eventually coming across an easily accessible booze storage. He had sakes, whiskeys, and a bottle of bourbon in there. 

“Fascinating how some enjoy poisoning themselves,” she lifted a bottle and examined the label, popped open the cap and took a whiff. “Phew, that’s really strong, too!” She recapped the whiskey and put it back inside.

“Hello, Underworld,” Ami said, lying down on the floor and holding her tablet above her face. “Check security protocols, local business network 43ETZ…”

“And here you are, fresh onions, oranges and leeks!” The young merchant girl handed a bag off to the good inspector, who smiled in return.

“Thank you very much, young lady,” Zenigata gently took the bag as he handed her some yen from his pocket. “I appreciate your family’s hard work.” She giggled and waved goodbye, moving to help the next customer in line.

Zenigata slipped the package of soba he had bought earlier into the bag, wrapped it up and tucked it inside one of his trench coat pockets, plastic handles sticking out the top. He continued down to the nearby park, a local shrine and Japanese garden for the people to enjoy. Once he crested the top of the bridge, he paused and turned to look out over the trickling stream. “What am I to do,” he said lightly under his breath, resting his forearms on the railing. People continued to pass by behind him, talking and laughing and paying him no mind.

Ami was being stubborn, that was all he could really conclude. Although it was only natural; she was a 15 year old girl, afterall. Teenagers weren’t known for their ability to follow rules, or refrain from acts of rebellion. He still felt a little sour...he knew that she had lived a rough life until now, that her lack of proper education, or a proper life for that matter, were out of her control. Criminals had taken over her life, used her and other children in their underground dealings, and she was one of the lucky few that could work her way out of it.

His jaw set in a hard line. This was why he originally went into this business. Why he wanted to help those innocent lives get back on the right path and see their potential. All too often young children lost their golden, carefree years. Men and women withered away to shells of their former selves. Because some people were evil, living without moral consequences weighing on their minds.

But if he couldn’t help steer one girl back to reality, what good was he in this line or work? Perhaps all those years of chasing Lupin down had made him rusty in his original line of duty.

He sighed and shook his head. Lupin. The bastard went and died on him. Or so he would like him to think. Lupin wasn’t just some average petty thief; he always had a trick up his sleeve, was always slipping his way out of tricky situations. No, he wasn’t dead. It was all part of some larger ploy. But how did he do it-

“Mister?” Zenigata snapped out of the clouds and looked down to his right, where a little girl was tugging on his trench coat. She looked to be about four or five, thick tears streaming down her face. He immediately crouched down to her level. “Did you see my mommy walk by here?”

Zenigata shook his head, smiling softly. “What does your mommy look like? Maybe I can help you look for her.” The little girl tensed up, a fresh batch of tears bursting from her puffy eyes. “Oh, hey now, don’t you be crying, darlin’. I need you to be real brave and tell me all about your mommy so we can find her! Can you do that for me? You look like a very brave little girl,” he tousled her dark hair, grinning wide. “I bet she looks just like you!”

She roughly wiped a hand across her cheeks, smearing strands of her hair to her face. “She has really short hair. And it’s kinda brown. My hair is longer, and black.”

“That it is!” Zenigata feigned surprise with a gentle laugh. “You must take very good care of your hair! And your dress is very cute, does your mommy wear a dress?”

“Yeah, but it’s kinda like...a smaller dress.”

Zenigata pulled his notebook from his coat and flipped to a blank page. “Like this?” He drew a simple depiction of a pencil skirt.

“Yeah! Yeah like that. She has tall socks on, too,” she pointed to the legs that Zenigata drew in, just above the ankle. “They’re always black. And her shoes make a clacking noise when she walks.”

“Is she wearing any bright colours today?”

The little girl shook her head. “No, but her shirt is the thin one, with flowers on it. The flowers aren’t really bright, they’re kinda pink and blue.”

Zenigata continued asking the little girl questions, aided by the drawing to assert whatever detail he could, specifically focusing on any distinguishing features. He then led the little girl over to a nearby bench, taking a seat and looking out at the park. “What were you and mommy doing today?”

“We were going shopping in the market!” Her little finger pointed to the market just off the side of the park, where Zenigata just was. “She bought me a peach. I love peaches! Do you like peaches?”

Zenigata nodded his head. “I do! Did you get to eat it right away?”

She sharply nodded her head, a firm expression in her eyes. “Yes! The whooooole thing! She said it was a reward for being so good. But then I went to toss the hard part of it in the garbage, and I let go of her hand…” she started to tear up again. “...and then…..well, I didn’t know where she went!” A big sniffle signaled the start of the waterworks.

“Ah, I see! Well, I’m certain she couldn’t have gone far! She’s probably looking for you right now!” Zenigata patted her on the head while he simultaneously scanned the market and surrounding park area. Short brown hair, a thin sheer floral pattern blouse, pencil skirt, black socks… He knew the best thing they could do is stay in one place, just in case her mother came walking by. Otherwise, they could be walking in circles around each other. Just as he was about to ask the little girl for more information, like a family name, or where the peach stall was, he spotted a frantic looking young woman on the other end of the park. She walked up to some other people, then after a short moment turned away, then in a choppy circle, purse swinging loosely on her shoulder.

Zenigata smirked, then he stood up from the bench, extending a hand to the little girl while keeping a careful eye on the woman. “Hey, let’s go for a walk through the park. Maybe mommy’s enjoying the view?”

“Okay,” she sniffed, reaching to take his hand and toddle along beside him. Zenigata set a leisurely pace, so that her little legs could keep up to his massive stride. As they got closer and closer, he could start to hear her calling out a name.

“Junko? Junkooo!”

Zenigata glanced down at his new friend. “Ah, I never did ask your name! How rude of me,” he said as he stopped, turning to face her. “My name is Zenigata. What’s your’s?”

She bounced on her toes. “Junko! I’m Junko!”

With a light chuckle, Zenigata continued their stroll down the path, eventually getting close enough that Junko heard her mother’s call. She frantically started to look around and call out. Zenigata bumped her shoulder and pointed to her mom, which prompted the excited little girl to take off running, crashing into her mother’s hug.

“Junko!!! Where did you run off to? I was so scared!”

Junko cried and shook her head. “I’m sorry, mommy! I was just throwing away the hard part! I got lost!”

“Oh, sweetie…”

“But!” She tugged hard on her mother’s sleeve, excitement overpowering her tears. “The nice man helped me! He likes peaches, too!” Junko pointed with all her might at Zenigata, who patiently tucked his hands away in his pockets.

The woman sighed in relief, standing as Junko hugged hard at her legs and gripped the hem of her skirt. “Thank you so much,” she breathed, hand tangling in her daughter’s hair. “That market was so packed, I just turned away for a second and-”

“It’s all good, ma’am,” Zenigata said with a wave. “If I had a dime for every child that wandered off from their mom...heh, heh...well, anyway, little Junko here was very brave! And observant. She described you to a tee!” He flipped his notebook open and showed off the simple little drawing. “I’m pretty impressed.”

She softly laughed as she looked over the paper. “Yes, she’s always been pretty good at clothes. I think I might have a little fashion designer on my hands! Always pestering me for a back to school wardrobe. Sometimes halfway through the year!”

Zenigata ripped the drawing from the notebook and knelt down. “Here, you can have this,” he said, holding it out to Junko. Her eyes grew wide and she looked up at him. “Go ahead! You can put it in your room! And, if you want, you can draw some of mommy’s other outfits to go with it!”

Junko smiled wide, taking the paper and squishing it tight against her chest. “Thank you, Mr. Zenigata! Oh! Mommy! Can he have one of our peaches?”

She laughed, nodding her head. “Of course he can. Here,” she let Junko rummage about in the bag until she picked out a fresh peach. Junko proudly handed it to Zenigata, thanking him again before he went on his way.

Zenigata held the plump fruit up as he walked, rubbing a thumb across its soft flesh. A warmth spread in his chest, calming his nerves and soothing his worries. Even if he couldn’t stop all the evil in the world, he could at least make it a better place, one Junko at a time.

“You were gone awfully long,” Ami darted her eyes from her tablet screen where she was watching a live feed of a jewelry store security camera. She executed the exit protocols and put the tablet on the small table, feeling a sheepish feeling wash over her. “...Were you that upset about earlier?”

Zenigata hung his coat and placed his shopping on the counter, tossing a peach pit in a nearby garbage can. He wasn’t sure how to answer that, so he simply asked, “how do you feel about stir fry tonight? It’s been a while since I’ve had it.”

Ami leaned against the wall, fidgeting with the sleeves of her sweater. “I’ve never had it before.” She watched as he took out a pan and laid out various vegetables on the countertop. He busied himself with putting out a couple bowls and a cutting board. As he delicately sliced at a carrot, Ami took a step closer. “...I’m sorry. I’ve been a little unfair to you. Rude, even. After everything you’ve been doing for me.”

Zenigata smiled to himself. “It’s alright.” She was, afterall, still a kid. There was a whole life of learning ahead of her, and some lessons would be harder met than others. All that was needed was a little time, patience, and kindness.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You can start cooking the meat for me. Just put a little oil in the pan there and set it to medium heat. Once it starts to get hot, toss the beef in and occasionally give it a stir until all the pink is gone and they’re cooked right through. Then we’ll start to add the vegetables.”

Some more instruction and a few dashes of pepper later, the two were sat at the living room table, each with a bowl of stir fry and rice. Ami’s eyes sparkled. “Wow, this tastes so good! It didn’t even take that long to make!”

Zenigata stirred his chopsticks. “If you ever want to make something quick, stir fry is usually the way to go. Just remember to chop everything beforehand.”

Ami asked him a few more questions about picking the right things for a stir fry, clarifications on certain tips he had shared in the kitchen, and helped him do the washing up. When she noticed that the garbage was full, she asked him if she could take it out to the apartment dumpster. Zenigata happily agreed, putting in a fresh bag as soon as she slipped out the door.

“Goodnight,” Ami said as Zenigata flipped the lights off, snuggling into her blanket on her futon. He returned her words and closed the door to his bedroom. The long, faint ticking of the clock on the wall echoed in the small room, growing louder in the absence of all activity. Ami closed her eyes and tried her best to relax, head swimming with her remaining insecure thoughts. She wondered about Lupin, where he was and how his plan was coming together. She wondered about Zenigata’s anger from earlier, and if she really did understand what was going on with that. Was she being too difficult? Was she being short sighted? Or was he simply overreacting? Should she tell him what was really going on behind the scenes?

With her head spinning about with all these questions, Ami tossed and turned, her pondering turning to anxiety, leaving her feeling a small measure of fear in her fluttering heart. She soon sat up in her bed, staring down at her lap, trying to calm herself. When it came down to it, everything around her was in constant disarray. Nothing was stable right now. She didn’t know what was coming next, and that scared her a little bit.

Leaving her dark, secluded room may have invited the pleasure of adventure and discovery, but it also came with doubt and irregularities.

She reviewed what she knew about anxiety, and the common ways of dealing with it. Sometimes the things she read started off sounding ridiculous, like weighted blankets, until deeper investigation turned out that humans are social creatures, and the weight of soft, plush fabric simulated a comforting hug, which related to memories and brain paths that lead to feelings of protection and safety. It was all rather scientific, actually. 

The comfort of companionship, Ami thought, imagining the images of people with their pets, like in those videos she and Zenigata had watched together at the laundromat. She turned to look at the door to Zenigata’s room, staring for a moment, and then shaking her head. No. I can make do. It’s just sleep, I can do this on my own. She laid back down and tried again.

Five or so minutes later, she was back up, hair sticking up from the near constant tossing and turning.

Finally, she relented and got up, carefully creeping to the door and cracking it open. Inside, Zenigata lay flat on his back, blanket lazily sprawled over his legs, one arm draped on his stomach and one up under a pillow. His foot stuck out the bottom of the blanket, proving he was too tall for even his own bed.

Ami tip-toed closer and knelt beside the futon, watching him breath heavily through his wide open mouth, snoring softly. She hesitantly crawled in beside him, quietly and carefully tugging the blanket over her stomach. Refraining from touching him, she smiled at the warmth he gave off. This isn’t so bad. I’ll just stay on this side and-

“Nnnhngg….get back here...Lupin…….” Zenigata mumbled, shifting slightly on his back...and then sharply rolled to his side, arms wrapping tight around Ami and pulling her into his chest.

Ami peeped a little, realizing that any sudden movement could wake him. He seemed to have mistook her for a pillow, and was nuzzling his nose gently into her hair. She tried to squirm a little bit, but the task would be impossible to do without disturbing him. So instead she took a moment to plan her escape. The longer she waited, however, the sleepier she became. Realizing what was happening, the research behind the weighted blanket came to mind. A warm, comforting hug… she couldn’t help but melt into the warmth, even daring to snuggle in a little closer. I feel...safe here. Her logical thoughts started to fade into wisps of consciousness, and soon she fell asleep.

The next thing Ami would remember is opening her eyes to a softly lit room, blankets bunched all around her. Feeling groggy, but not tired, she lifted her head from the pillow and looked about, confused. This didn’t look like the living room.

And then she remembered. She looked around herself at the bed, realizing she was the only one in it. Confused, she stood and opened the closed door.

Zenigata was cooking breakfast in the kitchen, the television on and reading the morning news. The smell of sizzling bacon saturated the air. Ami glanced behind herself again to confirm that yes, this was Zenigata’s room, and she was in fact, walking out of it. A wash of embarrassment flooded down upon her, and she had to muster the courage to walk out into the room.

“Good morning,” she quietly said, waving to get his attention.

Zenigata waved back, smiling ear to ear. “Mornin’! How’d you sleep last night?”

Ami felt a hard blush rage into her cheeks. “Good. You?”

“Good. Have you ever had bacon before?”

“I don’t think so. That’s pork, right?” She started to step towards the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”

Once in the bathroom, she took the time to contemplate her next move. Did he even notice I was there this morning? Of course he noticed. How could you not notice somebody sleeping next to you, holding on to your shirt? But he hasn’t said anything about it. Maybe he’s also embarrassed? He doesn’t seem embarrassed. Her head spun around and around again, trying to see the logical reasonings for this situation. He should point it out to her. Or should she? Maybe they just shouldn’t ever speak of it again.

“I wasn’t sure how many eggs you wanted, so I made you two,” Zenigata called from the other side of the door. Ami finished up, slapped her cheeks a few times to fend off any lingering drowsiness, and came out of the bathroom. Her place was all set and everything, fresh steam rising from her plate.

As she sat down, she cocked her head at the fork and butterknife. “This is a little more American style of breakfast,” Zenigata said, brushing some jam on his piece of toast. “I’ve tried eating it with chopsticks before, but it’s a little difficult.”

“Ah, I see,” Ami copied his movements with her own toast. As she chewed on a piece of egg, she said, “I’m a little surprised.”

“Oh?”

“From the information I know of you up until now, it’s not very likely you’d make anything besides traditional Japanese cuisine.”

Zenigata chuckled low, breaking the yolk of his egg with the fork. “It’s fun to try some new things. When you work for the ICPO chasing an internationally wanted super thief all over the globe, you get to try all kinds of different things from different cultures. Americans are a little over the top with their portions, and they use a lot of cheese, but I think they’ve got breakfast figured out.” He pointed to his plate, mouth muffled with a piece of egg. “I’d love to have their hash browns again.”

Ami smiled, glancing up at him while she ate. It was refreshing to see such a traditional orientated man break out of his comfort zone a little. Maybe there was hope for him yet. She briefly considered bringing up the sleeping arrangements, but just as she opened her mouth she found her words wouldn’t come out. He happily chewed away at his breakfast, and for some reason she felt she’d be disturbing the mood. Instead, she waited for him to finish his plate, then collected it up along with her own. “Thank you for breakfast. I’ll get these washed up.”

While she set to her task, Zenigata changed out of his boxers and undershirt into some regular pants and a simple blue collared shirt, leaving the top button undone so the collar could lay flat. He paused in the living room, scratching his chin as he watched the end of the news report, then flicked the screen off. Just as Ami pulled the drain, he asked, “would you like to come along while I run a few errands? It’ll beat being bored at home here.”

Ami nodded her head, but then paused, tugging at her hair. “Aren’t we supposed to be laying low? What if somebody spots me?”

Zenigata sighed. “Well, we can’t avoid absolutely everything, now can we? Just keep yourself casual and don’t draw attention to yourself, and you should be fine. Routines are important to maintain to ward off suspicion!”

“So you’re usually seen with a teenager following you around on Sundays?”

“Okay, fine,” Zenigata said with a smile. He opened the closet and pulled out a thin, dark grey jacket. “Stay here, then. I just thought you might want to get some fresh air. When I’m back to work tomorrow, you’ll have to stay out of sight.” He slipped on his shoes and put a hand on the door handle, pausing to glance at her over his shoulder.

Ami shook her head. His own reasoning didn’t match up. It was silly to tout around “stick to a routine” and then simultaneously break that routine. She slipped on her shoes. “Okay. I’ll come along. I haven’t seen much of Tokyo besides pictures and security camera feeds, anyways.”

Zenigata raised an eyebrow at her last comment, but decided not to ask. He locked up the door and tucked his hands in his pockets. “Okay! Let’s go on down to the bank.” Just as they reached the top of the stairs, however…

“Ko-chan!” The hair on the back of Zenigata’s neck bristled, and he grit his teeth hard. “Good morning! Getting ready to enjoy your Sunday before heading back to work?” Ms. Tanaka waved from the bottom of the stairs, having just popped out of her own apartment on the ground floor.

“Aha, yes, yes! This is perfect weather to get out for a bit,” he lightly cheered, descending the stairs. Ami followed close behind, and once at the bottom she again found herself tucking close, using her current ward as a shield. “Just running to the bank to check on my accounts, and then to the market to see if there are any good deals. The usual.”

The old woman beamed up at her towering tenant, then shifted her focus to the smaller tuft of red hair peeking out at her. “And good morning to you, too!” She shuffled around Zenigata, much to Ami’s dismay, and took her hands in her’s. After a brief moment, she scoffed and shook her head. “Ko-chan, did you cut her hair? You can’t just cut a girl’s hair all willy-nilly! She needs a proper stylist, not the clumsy hands of a man!”

“Wha- Geh- IT LOOKS FINE! ” Zenigata shouted, pink glowing under his skin.

“It is not fine, it’s uneven! You owe it to your daughter to schedule a proper hair appointment! She’ll be picked on by the other kids!”

“I can cut it myself! I don’t need to waste money on it.”

“Now, don’t you be saying that! She deserves-”

Ami couldn’t help but giggle at the display; a tall, pouting middle aged man being chastised thoroughly by a brash little old lady. She covered her mouth with the sleeve of her hoodie to muffle the sound. Zenigata was clearly losing this battle.

Finally, Zenigata threw his hands up in defeat. “Fine! Fine, I’ll take her to a barber this week,” he announced, rolling his eyes and folding his arms. “I’m doing what I can, okay?”

“I know you are, sweetie,” Ms. Tanaka reached up and squeezed him on his arm. “You always try your best. But you can stand to be criticized a little more! Now, off you go. I need to sweep up these stairs. Go on!” She bopped him lightly with the broom handle to shoo him. Zenigata groaned and scampered down the walkway, Ami trailing close behind.

Once they were far enough away, Ami let out a bursting giggle. “The Great Inspector Zenigata, bested by the Little Old Lady Neighbor from downstairs.”

“Shut up,” he grunted, hands returning to his pockets. “She means well. She’s just a little pushy, is all. Heaven forbid she sees me talking to a woman on the street, suddenly it’s all ‘Oh, Ko-chan! Is that pretty blond lady coming to visit you anytime soon?’ and ‘You’re not getting any younger, Kooo-chan! ’ Ugh…”

Ami snorted at the unexpected impression, Zenigata’s voice tripping up a couple octaves for a moment. He rubbed a hand on his face, pinching at the bridge of his nose. She could see now why he was so adamant that she remain hidden during the coming week...if Ms. Tanaka happened to spot her hanging around outside typical school hours, she’d be sure to berate him, and her, for skipping school. She was already intruding far more than was comfortable.

While she waited for Zenigata to take care of his banking, Ami sat on a bench in the lobby and counted the security cameras. Five….seven…. she pursed her lips in thought and looked over the small vault door, currently open during daylight hours near the back. A security man leisurely sat nearby, reading a manga. This would be far too easy a target to steal from , she thought. Well, easy for me. They at least have more security than some banks I know.

After the bank, they hopped on a crowded train that zipped to another section of the city. Ami didn’t appreciate the claustrophobia, walled off on all sides by the backs of others. With Zenigata not wearing his coat and his hat, he more easily blended in with the others, so she permanently fixed her hand to the back of his jacket just in case. They disembarked after a couple of stops.

Once away from the crowds, Ami said, “Based on the average speed of the train, the amount of time each stop took, with 4 stops total-”

“Do you ever stop analyzing data?” Zenigata interrupted without breaking a stride. As Ami sputtered to reply, he abruptly stopped and turned on his heel to face her, leaning down to face her. “It’s a Sunday. We’ve had a pretty rough couple of days thanks to that desert business, I think we can have a little time to unwind from work.”

“Unwind? But you never take days off of work,” Ami said, tapping her fingers together. “It says so in your file.”

Zenigata blanched for a moment. “How did you-” he shook his head and waved his hand. “Nope! Don’t wanna know. Let’s just get to where we’re going.”

“Where we’re going?” Ami sped up her pace to keep up with him. “Where are we going? You haven’t told me.”

He never answered her, just smiled and kept walking.

Eventually, music started to trickle into the air, getting clearer with each passing block. Ami looked about, trying to find the source. A mix of chatting and laughter followed along behind it. She spotted a ferris wheel peeking out from behind a building. “...A carnival?”

Zenigata laughed. “Bingo!” he shouted, pointing to a sandwich board sign with the details. “They have one every year. I don’t usually go, but since this is a special case, I figured it was a good idea.” He stopped on the sidewalk and faced her again. “This isn’t something you can experience through a screen.”

Ami was speechless. She had read plenty about carnivals, read plenty of stories where characters had gone to one, described the sweet taste of cotton candy, the thrilling rush of a carnival ride...but she found herself a little hesitant to do all those things with her own two hands. Her shock was easily observed, as Zenigata pushed a gentle hand against her shoulders. “Come on, give it a try. I’ll be right here with you.”

The day whizzed by, Ami barely had a moment to think. Teacups, carnival games, live music, cotton candy, donuts, a mime who was inexplicably trapped inside a box...she was impressed by how, despite her knowledge that it was a performance, he had made it look so real. With all these new sensations and feelings, she had almost completely forgotten about everything else in her life. She truly was living in the moment.

Finally having a minute to breathe on the ferris wheel, Ami looked out of the carriage, down to all the people enjoying the festivities below. The view was amazing from here! She had seen so many views like this on camera footage, but with her own eyes it was a completely different feeling. She could see everything .

“You certainly look like you’re having fun.” Ami turned to look at Zenigata, calmly sitting next to her in the carriage. His head was propped up in his hand. “Glad you came along, yeah?”

She laughed, looking out to the crowds below again. “I still think it’s a contradiction to your concept of ‘laying low,’ but somehow that just makes this all...more fun!” She furrowed her brow. “That...is probably due to the adrenaline, produced from the fear of being caught. Which makes sense…” her voice trailed off as she saw Zenigata’s smile fade a bit, a clouded look glazing over his eyes. “B-but! The cotton candy was really good! I’ve never had anything so sweet!”

Zenigata seemed to snap back his attention, chuckling under his breath. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

Ami felt her face grow warm again, content with the happiness settled in her chest. There were a lot of inconveniences and unnecessary components to this day, but for once she disregarded those and let her focus on the details fade. She scooted closer to Zenigata and gave him an unexpected hug, squeezing her arms around his middle. “Thank you for...this. I feel...happy.” Zenigata placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.

Once they were off the ferris wheel, Zenigata informed Ami they should start heading back, before it got dark. She bid her silent farewell to the carnival and followed him onto the train.

A soft click of the lock, Ami leaned her back against the wall and sighed, staring up at the ceiling. Today had been…fun. Surprisingly fun. She couldn’t stop smiling, imagining the rush of wind through her hair while she spun the teacup as fast as she could, Zenigata holding on for dear life in the seat next to her.

She realized she had been daydreaming as soon as she noticed Zenigata rolling out her futon in the living room. For some reason, the sight of it reminded her of the elephant in the room, the one thing neither she nor he addressed for the entire day. I should at least apologize for making such an uncomfortable situation, she rubbed her arm, shame blossoming in her chest. Despite my indiscretion, he still went out of his way for me.

“Um, Zenigata?”

“Yes?”

Ami balled her fists tight, forcing herself to speak. “I’m. Sorry. For intruding on you last night. For some reason I thought...well, I was having trouble sleeping, and I was looking up solutions....but I didn’t have a weighted blanket or a pet....” her words tangled up in her throat, but she pressed on, trying to plead her case in broken sentences.

Zenigata interrupted her with a laugh, his shoulders shaking with the effort. “I’m not mad!” He nearly yelled, sitting cross-legged on the futon. “Why would I be?”

“Uh..because…” Ami searched for the words. “I...I came into your room without your permission? I could have woken you up, I just thought being near another person would activate the underlying social evolutions we’ve developed as humans-”

“That’s a really complicated way to say you wanted to cuddle,” Zenigata flatly said, cocking an amused eyebrow.

Ami felt a heat flush into her face. Cuddle?! I didn’t want….well, I guess it kind of….if I broke it down to base definitions… she stared at him with a heavy daze in her eyes, trying to solve the problem as frantically as possible.

Zenigata sighed, trying to hide his amusement while she froze. “If you want to cuddle, all you have to do is ask. I don’t mind.”

It was like a fuse burst, snapping all the power off. Ami’s analytics were completely fried. Wait, what?!? He is only taking care of me out of necessity, why would he rationally offer something like that after setting up a bed for me?! He should be offended?!? I’m effectively wasting his time?!? An alternative arrangement could be made to resolve this situation-

“Okay, whoa, see, this is why I didn’t want to say anything,” Zenigata stood up and shook his head. “I didn’t want to embarrass you. Why don’t you go take a bath and calm down? Go on, to the bathroom you go!” He took her by the shoulders and shuffled her to the bathroom, gently pushing her inside and closing the door. Ami leaned against the sink, gripping her fingers on the countertop.

Finally, she took a deep breath. “Yes. A bath. Warm water can ease sore muscles and relax the body. Yes.” Her voice was shaken and low, low enough for only her to hear. Eventually, she managed to get herself prepped and into the bathtub, closing the door to the small room tight and sinking down into the water. Her flushed and confused face felt as though it evened out in the heat, and before long she breathed a sigh of relief. Her thoughts were now clear. She could work through this problem efficiently now.

I suppose this isn’t too unusual...not for him, anyways. Data I’ve both researched and collected over the last couple of days point to a very irrational, stubborn, and emotional man. Middle aged, unmarried, no children, and an unhealthy desire to work until he drops dead. Ami sank down into the water, frowning. Now that I think about it...it must be lonely. No wonder his desire to catch Lupin is so strong; he is only searching for companionship. Maybe, in his permission and dismissal of my intrusion in his life, he’s really asking me for companionship. She lay flat to stare up at the ceiling. A family he never built.

Ami, with the help of her AI earrings, looked up meditative and breathing techniques. She had been curious for a while after she heard about the practice of relaxing, and their effects on the body and mind. What better place to practice than in the bath? Her AI counted out the steps and played soft, soothing music. The water had started to cool, and that’s when she decided she had been soaking for long enough.

When she exited the bathroom, Zenigata was sitting cross-legged at his little table, stripped down to his boxers and undershirt once again, watching the television with a bag of salted pretzels in his hand. He rammed his fist into the bag. “Feel any better?” He asked, shovelling pretzels into his mouth.

Ami smiled. “Yeah,” she muttered quietly, sitting down next to him at the table. He offered her the bag, and she cautiously took a small pretzel. They watched an episode of a courtroom drama, Zenigata occasionally chuckling at the dramatic proceedings and inaccuracies. Eventually, Ami felt her eyelids grow heavy. Her head dipped once, then again. As the female lead of the show spun on her heel to berate her client for withholding information, Ami leaned against Zenigata’s shoulder and closed her eyes.

The next moment she was aware of, the room was dark, and she could feel him shifting about. “Hey, I’m off to bed,” he coarsely whispered, shaking her shoulder lightly. Ami rubbed at her eyes and yawned, freeing him from his duty as a headrest. 

“Oh, okay…” she said with a drawn out murmur. It took her a moment to register that he had stood up and was walking away. Ami felt a sudden, irrational kick of energy. “W-wait!” She scrambled to her feet, still half dazed, and crashed into him.

Zenigata caught her best he could before she stumbled to the floor. “Whoa there, sleepyhead! Watch where you’re going!”

“Sorry,” Ami said, squeezing her arms around him. “It’s.......It’s dark…..in here…” She buried her face into his shirt. Her eyes started to burn. Why was she suddenly so emotional?

His only reply was combing a hand in her hair, tugging delicately at her tangles and knots. Ami realized how much she appreciated the silence, the gentle ticking of the clock lulling her into a meditative rhythm. She sniffed and breathed a shaky sigh.

Zenigata crouched down, cradling her face in his hands. “I don’t have to go anywhere if you don’t want me to,” he said, brushing a thumb across her cheek. Even in the dark, she could see his relaxed smirk, a mix of amusement and sincerity. Ami couldn’t help but smile in return.

She hugged him again, tucking her nose into his shoulder, tears bubbling from the corners of her eyes. Everything she had done until recently she had done on her own. Nobody would listen or tolerate her existence unless they were also getting something out of it, so she had been careful to set up her schemes; a backdoor to the Marco Polo website, an escape route via a charmingly petty thief in exchange for her exclusive knowledge and capabilities, even refuge while she waited for the next leg of the plan… her heart tightened. Was it really fair of her to keep that from him after all he’s done for her?

“Alright, now, we can’t be sittin’ here and crying all night,” Zenigata chuckled, giving her one final squeeze before standing back up. “We should get some sleep. I’ve got work tomorrow, the commissioner doesn’t seem too happy about all the photos people took of me helping the two of you escape. It might be a rough one,” he sighed, somberly looking into the distance. “But it’ll be okay.”

Ami wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “Thank you. I hope I didn’t get you in too much trouble.”

Zenigata laughed, turning to his bedroom. “Naw, this is nothing. Trust me.” He held the door open as Ami followed him inside, and as she snuggled up next to him he patiently tucked the blanket over her. He had no idea what the future would hold for her. But for now, this was enough.

Ami’s eyes fluttered open slowly, her head cloudy for just a moment. The steady rise and fall of Zenigata’s breath brought her back to reality. She smiled and nuzzled into his chest. Five more minutes… she thought, amused at the adage frequently used in works of fiction aimed at teenage demographics. Between the blankets, her hoodie, and the human furnace that was currently holding her she never felt cozier. Nothing in the world could hurt here right here, at this moment. It had felt like far more than five minutes before he started to stir.

Zenigata groaned a little and yawned, and then Ami felt a familiar set of fingers tugging at her hair. He combed a few more times, pulling out what tangles he could. Ami smiled at the feeling, and she couldn’t help but let out a small giggle.

“Good morning,” he finally said, realizing she was awake. “Sleep okay, kid?”

Ami dramatically threw her arms over him, muffling her face in his shirt. “Five more minutes…” she muttered, smiling.

Zenigata laughed. “Oh, no, no, none of that!” He easily wrestled her off of him and laboriously got to his feet, groaning all the while. He stretched and rolled his shoulders, a series of light cracks rolling down his back. “It’s time to get up. I have to make some breakfast and get ready,” he explained with a heavy, satisfied sigh.

Ami trailed him out of the bedroom, and as he made his way to the bathroom, she quickly piped up. “Um, what if I take care of breakfast? I’ve looked up french toast, it should be easy enough to make.”

“Sure, give it a go,” he waved her off, slipping behind the door.

Ami opened the fridge and said “Hello, Underworld.” Her earrings flickered to life, and she asked it to pull up a recipe and tips for making a french toast breakfast.

It took a little longer than it should have, and she burned the first piece of bread, but Ami soon had a stack of freshly cooked toast. Zenigata had some strawberries in his fridge, and although they looked a little old, Ami managed to salvage what she could and sliced them up neatly and evenly. She drizzled some syrup, finished up brewing the coffee, and set the table.

Zenigata fixed his tie and pushed up the sleeves of his white linen shirt as he sat down, taking a moment to exclaim his ritual Itadakimasu! “This doesn’t look too bad! Thank you, Amy!” He said as he cut into the spongy bread.

“It’s Ami.”

Ami’s eyes glittered at the taste. The syrup was so sweet....it went so well with the strawberries...even if they were a little overripe. Maybe it really was worth the effort to put together a tasty meal, and there was a whole world of foods, tastes, and smells out there!

After breakfast, Zenigata finished combing and fixing his hair, trimming up his sideburns and washing his face. Ami busied herself with washing the dishes.

“Well, I’ll be off then,” Zenigata fixed the lapel of his tan suit jacket and slid into his trench coat. He affixed his hat firmly to his head. “I hate to think you’ll be bored stuck inside all day, but if you want to do some cleaning to pass the time, I wouldn’t be opposed to that!” He laughed as Ami rolled her eyes and sighed, and then patted a stern hand on the top of her head. “Be good while I’m out, alright?”

Ami sighed, lying on the futon in the living room, left out in Zenigata’s rush to get ready and leave on time. She scrolled through her various social media on her tablet. Then she considered taking a short nap. Then she flipped through some channels on the television. Idly, she wondered when and how Lupin was planning to contact her. A letter? No, that may be too suspicious. Zenigata might get a hold of it. A handoff in the street? But I cannot go out and blow my cover. Maybe he’ll just message me over the internet? That was the most likely option, so she double checked that all her notifications were active just in case.

Eventually Ami grew restless in her boredom, switching the television off and getting to her feet. She poked around in all the closets and cabinets and eventually found some cleaning supplies. First, she carefully swept up the dust and dirt from the floor, paying careful attention to the nooks, crannies, and corners. After that was complete, and she was sure there was no lingering lint that had escaped, she mixed up some floor cleaner, carefully measuring the ratios that were described on the bottle to fit the estimated square footage of the apartment. Room by room, she mopped up the hardwood until it was shiny with clean water.

By the time she had finished pouring out the dirty water and putting away everything where she had gotten them, it had long been past lunchtime. She didn’t feel particularly hungry, plus eating now would disrupt her dinner, if Zenigata’s regularly scheduled meal time were to be adhered to.

An hour and a half of browsing the internet later, she heard a rattle at the door. For just a moment she panicked, sitting up and staring in alarm. Then, the pop of a lock, and the door cracked open. Zenigata was home.

Ami sighed in relief, chastising herself for assuming it could have been anybody but him. Regardless, she waved from her futon. “How was work?”

Zenigata didn’t answer right away, hanging his coat and hat with slumped shoulders. He paused before closing the closet, thinking. Then, finally he turned to Ami, scratching his head. “Ah, it went as well as it could have, I guess,” he said in an unreadable tone. “How were things here? Anything interesting happen?”

“Not really,” Ami answered with a shrug. She went back to her phone while he stretched his back and sighed.

There was a long pause of silence, and then he said, “.....You cleaned the floors?” He was met with Ami’s astonished stare, which made him chuckle. “I am a detective. I notice these things. Hm, not bad…..”

As she watched Zenigata get to work on dinner, Ami kept bouncing around the question of whether or not she should tell him Lupin wasn’t dead. Maybe he deserved to know. But also, maybe his ignorance of the plan was part of Lupin’s plan. Even as he explained his day down at the station, how he was moved to the narcotics department until further notice, she tugged her fingers in her hair. What to do, what to do…

“....Lupin’s not dead,” he flatly said, sipping up some soba noodles. “I haven’t seen his body.”

Ami stiffened up. Wait...had he already…? She thought for a moment, then quietly said, “Say, Zenigata…”

“Hm?”

Her throat locked up. What if she was wrong? Would it mess it all up? “...This pasta is called soba, right? It’s really good!”

Zenigata’s face brightened, and he smiled from ear to ear. “Ah! I’m glad you like it!”

Later that night, Ami tucked herself into her living room futon, bidding goodnight to the inspector as he shuffled off, visibly tired from the day’s work. She bunched the blankets all around herself, still bothered by the...guilt, was it? Yes, she was feeling guilty. Part of her wanted to stick to the plan; any diversions would increase the chance of failure. But another part of her wanted to confide in someone she had come to trust.

Ami smiled. Trust… she thought as she closed her eyes and drifted off.

The next period of weeks were rinse and repeat. Ami would wake to the smell of breakfast, Zenigata would leave, she would putz around and kill time any way she could (she ended up making a whole task of cleaning the inside of all the cupboards in the kitchen), he would return, make dinner, and spend his afternoon relaxing in front of the television. Before he switched on the set, however, he encouraged Ami to come with him for a walk, at least around the block. He was getting worried that she wasn’t getting enough fresh air. Ms. Tanaka was sure to chastise him once again when they ran into her one day about how Ami was still lacking a proper haircut, to which Zenigata sighed and promised he would take care of it.

The weekend came, and as promised, Zenigata found a cheap hair salon on the other side of the city, away from his regular neighborhood and all those familiar to him. In and out, it was a quick trim job, and Ami’s hair was tidied up in no time.

As they sat at a small café, Ami idly ran her fingers through her fresh locks. The hair stylist had used some kind of spray in dry shampoo, and she had to admit it felt nice to have light, clean hair. Maybe she should visit a hair salon more often?

“Amy, we need to start discussing your future options,” Zenigata said as he took a sip of his coffee.

“It’s Ami. And I thought we agreed that we weren’t going to rush into that discussion,” Ami replied with a casual flip of her bangs. In reality she was just holding out for Lupin’s contact. All she cared about was her freedom from beneath those criminals’ collective thumbs. She’d deal with her future later.

Zenigata leaned on the small round table. “Yes, but it’s been long enough. I’ve been looking at some options for schools nearby, ones that have reputable programs for students arriving later in the year-”

“No.”

Zenigata fumbled his words, stunned at the direct rejection. He set his brow. “I don’t accept that as an answer.”

“But it is an answer.”

“Don’t you get smart with me, young lady.”

Ami sighed, looking out at the street, bustling with weekend activity. “I just don’t know, okay? I don’t know what the point of it is, I don’t know why people bother with routines, I don’t know why it would do me any better after I’ve gotten this far on my own already-”

“You’re scared.”

Now it was Ami’s turn to sputter, glancing over at Zenigata. He was smiling. She felt heat rush to her face and she looked away.

He sat up straight in his chair, folding his arms. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’ve never been to school, you’ve never talked to people beyond a screen, and you don’t know what it will be like. Amy, you don’t have anything to worry about. All these... things you haven’t experienced, the structure, the routine, the social habits....that’s what a school teaches you. It’s a place solely for laying the foundation for the rest of your life.”

Ami gripped the hem of her shirt, fists shaking slightly. I’m not...scared. It’s just a pointless endeavor. I can learn what I need from the internet, I have plenty of friends online. She took a shaky breath. I just need to hold out for a little longer. Lupin has to contact me soon. “...Fine. I will consider it.”

Zenigata visibly relaxed, smiling lazily. “You won’t know until you try. Who knows, maybe you’ll really enjoy it? I know some folks who are very academia-orientated - they have practically spent their entire lives going to school and doing studies! In fact, there was this one young lady I met while chasing Lupin in Rio…”

Ami let him ramble away for the rest of the afternoon, explaining different school programs he had researched; local schools, small schools, large schools, boarding schools, the whole works. She would nod and feign interest, asking about benign details to keep him satisfied. Boarding schools seemed to take her by surprise, however. An institution that performed the duties of education, housing, and care? It was a very efficient concept. Secluded from the distractions of a population. When Lupin’s plan finally came to an end, she would maybe consider it among her options going forward. At the very least, it would give her time to adjust to life outside a cage.

Sme smiled, remembering the taste of cotton candy and the laughter on the teacup ride.

Another Monday, another breakfast and lazy morning banter. Zenigata fixed his coat collar and hat, saying his goodbyes and walking out the door. He paused as he glanced at Ami's stern expression.

“Is this really necessary?”

Zenigata smiled. “Routines are important. You stay at my place, you play by my rules!”

Just as Ami started to get settled into her usual day spent inside the lonely apartment, there was a buzz at the door. It was Goemon, Lupin’s samurai friend, and he had a note for her.

She gasped. This was it. It was Lupin’s contact.

Ami cracked open the door, looking up at him with a shocked stare. Goemon, as deadpan and stoic as he usually was, handed her the note from his kimono. “My task is now complete,” he tucked his hand back inside the fabric. “The next leg of the plan is in your hands.” He turned to leave.

“W-Wait!” Ami nearly shouted, stopping him mid-turn. She felt her face grow warm at her outburst. “Since you’re here, would you like to come in for some coffee? We still have some left-”

“No,” he simply answered, staring straight ahead. “I have no need for your hospitality. There is still work remaining to be done.”

“Oh, okay…” She trailed off. Of course, that was silly of me to even offer at a time like this.

“Zenigata has been taking good care of you, yes?”

Ami blinked up at the samurai, who still kept his steady stare on the street. “Well, yes, he has. He can be quite irrational at times, but he does treat me with the utmost respect.”

“He is a kind and caring man,” Goemon said, pausing for a moment. A soft smile tinted his mouth. “It seems he’s grown quite fond of you. Perhaps you have, as well?”

Ami found her thoughts in a brief scramble. “W-Well, I do like him, yes. He’s done a lot for my sake and never expects anything in return. But this is only a temporary arrangement. I’ll be gone before long now.”

Goemon finally turned his face slightly to look at her. His expression was trained, unreadable, yet had a level of softness around the edges. “Be careful with your departure. You must take great care when handling the hearts of others.”

Ami blinked. “...What do you mean by tha-”

WHOOSH.

The samurai was gone in an instant.

She sighed, closing up the door and kneeling at the table, note clutched firmly in both hands. This was it. This was what she had been waiting for. Without further hesitation, she unfolded the paper and spend the rest of her morning going over the plan and timing out the contacts and tricks. She read through her coding and assured everything was primed and ready to go. This afternoon they would finally end this.

Ami packed up her things and put her hand on the front door handle, but something stilled her hand. She looked back at the living room behind her. The futon spread out on the floor. The small table where she ate. The kitchen where she learned to make a handful of stir fries and soups. She could see Zenigata’s face, smiling as he teased her. She could feel the warmth and comfort from knowing somebody was there to hold her while she cried, overwhelmed with fear and uncertainty.

Did she really want to leave all this behind?

She shook her head. Yes. Otherwise I’ll never be free. But that guilt remained. That ever so heavy, exhausting guilt. There had to be some way to relieve it, even temporarily, so that her head could be clear for the mission ahead.

Finally, she wandered to the kitchen, spotting a notepad and a pen. An alleviated smile came to her face. Of course. I need to pay him back for everything he’s done for me.

Ami took a deep breath as she exited the apartment, locking the door before she closed it for good. She’d probably never set foot here for a long time, but this wasn’t goodbye. This was just a temporary arrangement.

In just a soft click, Zenigata’s apartment now stood empty and dark. Back to its usual state, except for the small series of notes on Lupin’s plan scribbled and laid out on the kitchen counter.