Archive of Our Own

It wasn’t the first time Zenigata worked while sick. Justice never slept, not even for the flu.

He was running through the late night streets of Paris, a familiar haunt for Lupin’s criminal escapades. The thief had just stolen several Monet sketches from a private collector, and Zenigata was pushing himself to his limit to keep up the chase.

“C’mon, Pops! You’re faster than that!” Lupin taunted, turning to look back at the inspector as he ran, waving around the stolen drawings stashed in the briefcase he had gripped in his hand. Zenigata scowled but said nothing. He felt drained enough from being sick; he needed to concentrate on powering through the fatigue to catch up with Lupin.

They both kept running, block after block, and Zenigata could feel his momentum failing. His vision started to blur and get darker. No, he had to work through it. He tried to shake it off; he’d done it dozens of times before when chasing the thief. He blinked hard a few times and kept going. When his vision refocused, he was surprised to see Lupin had stopped running. In fact, he was facing Zenigata, staring at him with a serious expression. The inspector found his second wind and bolted at the thief. He wasn’t sure if this was part of some trick, but he couldn’t afford to miss this chance.

When he was only a few feet away, Lupin dashed to the side down an alleyway. Zenigata rounded the corner and kept on him. He shoved a hand in his pocket, gripping his handcuffs, ready to capture the thief once and for all. He was so close!

The alleyway felt like it stretched on forever as they ran. Their footfalls echoed louder and louder off the brick walls as Zenigata tried to close the gap in the narrow passage. As the end of the alley came into view, the opening was blindingly bright, and Lupin seemed to vanish as he passed through a brilliant wall of light.

As Zenigata emerged on the other side of the alley, he skidded to a halt. He rubbed his eyes and stared, unsure of what the hell was going on.

The most bizarre and incredible sight was laid out before him: a midnight celebration had seemingly emerged from nowhere, smack dab in the middle of Paris. Massive amounts of confetti filled the air, and the sound of a triumphant marching band played. Strings of colorful lights criss-crossed between the buildings, all of which were draped in colorful banners. And centering it all was an enormous airship parked in the middle of the street, lit up with spotlights.

Surrounding the ship and filling the city block was a huge crowd of beautiful women, each with a different shade of pastel dyed hair and wearing varying colors of Lupin’s signature jacket. They all began cheering and clapping when they saw Zenigata.

“It’s him!” cried one. “Hello, Inspector!” yelled another. They crowded around Zenigata and pushed him toward the airship, giggling and excited. He sputtered and blushed, unable to think clearly, and was soon deposited in front of a ramp that lead up into the ship’s gondola. At the top of the ramp was none other than Lupin the Third.

“Hello, Pops! We’ve been expecting you!”

Lupin’s outfit had changed from when Zenigata was chasing him moments before. His jacket had become a coat with tails, his normal tie and clip became a bowtie, and a top hat was now perched on his head. Glittery gold detailing dripped over the clothing. Zenigata thought it was gaudy as hell.

“Lupin, what—!“ Zenigata began to shout, but two of the pastel haired women started pushing him forward. The cheering and laughter from the crowd continued as he stumbled up the ramp.

“Come along, we’re on a tight schedule!” Lupin stepped aside as the women all but shoved Zenigata into the entrance of the ship’s gondola. The thief soon followed in after them and latched the door shut.

Once inside, Zenigata shook the women off his arms and turned to face the thief. “Lupin, just what the hell is going on here?” he demanded. He grabbed for his handcuffs again, preparing to strike, but his coat pocket was empty. He was sure he had them a minute ago. Did one of those strange Lupin groupies take them?

“Oh? Don’t you know?” Lupin smiled mischievously at the inspector.

“Of course not!” He stormed toward Lupin and grabbed him by the lapels. “And I don’t care what this is! You’re coming with me!” Cuffs or no, he was dragging Lupin off this contraption by force if he had to.

Suddenly, the gondola shook. Zenigata lost his footing, but Lupin grabbed his arms to steady him. Zenigata looked out one of the windows and to his horror saw that the airship had slowly begun to drift upward. He whipped around and saw one of the strange women was now piloting the airship, standing in front of a large steering wheel.

“H-hey! Put this thing back down!” he cried. Zenigata dropped his hold on Lupin and went for the steering wheel, but Lupin grabbed him around the chest, holding the inspector back.

“Hold it, Pops! We’re up too high already! You don’t want us to crash, do you?”

Zenigata didn’t think they had gotten that far off the ground yet, but he looked out again and they had already risen a few stories. The woman piloting had pointedly ignored his outburst. Zenigata thought he could probably figure out how to fly this thing—he’d piloted other aircraft before—but wasn’t sure if it was worth the risk. He relented and stopped trying to struggle out of Lupin’s bear hug, and Lupin let him go.

He turned back to face the thief again, profoundly annoyed at the direction the night had taken him. Would it kill Lupin to pull a normal heist for once?

“Lupin, spit it out already. What is all this? Where are we going?”

The thief made an exaggerated hum in contemplation, tapping a finger to his chin. “If you really don’t know… let’s have it be a surprise!”

Zenigata glared at him, but decided to wait it out. He couldn’t do much anyway, not until they got to wherever Lupin was taking them. He’d call for backup once they touched down. He jolted a bit at that thought and he checked his pockets for his phone, but it too had been pilfered, just like his cuffs. Great.

This ship probably had a radio, right?

Zenigata sighed and looked out the window. He could only see the night sky now; the city lights of Paris were far below them. At this height, the stars were fully visible, and twinkled brilliantly against the black expanse. It would’ve been a beautiful sight if he didn’t have to share it with an annoying thief. But the night sky turned hazy as they ascended further through a layer of clouds, and soon they were completely enveloped in the cloud cover. Zenigata began to sweat. Should they be up this high?

“Lupin—“ Zenigata warned, a worried hint in his voice.

But Lupin only smiled his trickster smile, and shushed the inspector. “We’re almost there.” He grabbed Zenigata’s hand and brought him to the front of the ship. “Look!”

The nose of the gondola cut through the clouds and soon they were above a dizzying display of color and light. It was early morning now—just how long were they on the ship?—and the sun rippled across the unending array of confetti, streamers, and balloons that danced through the sky. Planes pulling a rainbow of banners whizzed by underneath, and below all that back on Earth was a massive estate of candy color buildings, surrounded by a rich emerald green landscape of enormous flowerbeds, picturesque brooks and streams, and unending forests. In the center of it all was an opulent white castle, complete with spires, towers, and glimmering stained glass windows.

Zenigata could only stare in awe at the sight of it. More of the strange Lupin-dressed women were outside, passing by in hot air balloons, planes, and other odd flying contraptions. Zenigata could hear cheering and laughter, albeit faintly through the gondola hull, and the women waved and blew kisses at him as he watched through the windows.

The airship made its descent toward the castle, docking at the front gate. Once the ship settled, Lupin opened the gondola door and strolled out. Zenigata shook his head to break out of his trance and hurriedly followed after him.

Lupin stopped short of the castle’s entrance, spun on his heels, and with the grace of a magician he twirled out of his coat and threw off his top hat, revealing a regal outfit that screamed French aristocracy, complete with delicate lace detailing and shimmering velvet, all perfectly fit to the thief’s slim frame. On his head was a golden crown adorned with jewels. He looked even more outrageous than before.

Lupin raised his arms, gesturing to the world around them.

“Inspector Zenigata, welcome to Lupin Land!”

Zenigata looked at Lupin flatly. The younger man had some real harebrained schemes in the past, but this was one of the stupidest ones he had ever seen.

“Lupin. Where are we.” Zenigata was very much done with the thief’s bullshit.

“Getting hard of hearing, old man?” Lupin joked with a wink. “This is Lupin Land, and I’m its king! Check out my crown!” He knocked on the crown for emphasis.

Zenigata pinched the bridge of his nose. “…who gave this idiot access to a castle,” he mumbled to himself.

If Lupin heard him, he ignored it. “Alright, let’s start the tour!” He took Zenigata’s hand but the inspector slapped it away.

“Lupin, knock it off! I don’t care what all this is but we’re leaving, right now!”

“Zenigata,” Lupin gave him a sad smile. He gently took the inspector’s hand again and brought the back of it to his lips in a soft kiss. “You’re safe here, okay?” Lupin lingered like that for a while, closing his eyes.

Zenigata’s eyes widened and his face grew hot. He’d never seen such a soft and solemn look from the thief directed at him. Where on earth did this come from?

Lupin quickly rebounded from whatever that was, clapping his hands together. “Ok, let’s get started!” He pushed open the huge wooden double doors and led them into a grand entry hall.

Zenigata’s eyes widened at the sight of it. The floors were covered in a brilliant white marble, and both sides of the hall were bracketed by high columns, drawing the eye up to the ceiling where a softly painted scene of the sky hung above them, with angelic figures that looked suspiciously like a certain thief standing next to him. Two huge staircases, complete with gold plated railings, curved up from both sides of the room, leading to the second floor landing. And right at the center of the room was a giant gold statue of Lupin, wearing the same dumb king costume the real Lupin had on. Zenigata could only gape at it. How the hell did he get all this set up?

“Oh yeah!” Lupin snapped his fingers. “One more thing before the tour. You’re all sweaty from chasing me, so let’s get you out of these stuffy clothes!”

He grabbed Zenigata’s coat and yanked down hard from behind, pulling the coat off the inspector’s shoulders and knocking him on his ass at the same time. He felt bewildered and dizzy, more so than usual from a move like that. When he came back to his senses, he was only wearing his undershirt and boxers. Lupin had the rest of his clothing bundled in his arms.

“Lupin!” he yelled, feeling exposed in just his underwear. “What the hell is the matter with you?” Zenigata jumped to his feet and grabbed for his clothes, but Lupin sidestepped him and passed them to a young woman with light purple hair.

“Don’t worry, we’ll have these cleaned up in no time!” He gave the woman a smile and a wave as she began to walk off.

Zenigata dashed toward the woman, desperate for his clothes back, but Lupin snagged his arm and effortlessly hauled him off in the opposite direction. “Now on with the tour!”

Lupin dragged Zenigata through room after room, each more ostentatious and ridiculous than the last. There were multiple libraries, galleries, studies, dens, dining rooms, and any other room imaginable, all undoubtedly full of things the thief had stolen over the years. And every room, no matter its purpose, was filled with paintings or sculptures or other artwork of Lupin the Third. Zenigata didn’t need proof that Lupin was narcissistic, but the tour certainly sealed it for him.

The worst part of the tour was the thief himself. Lupin constantly asked the inspector if he needed anything while they plodded on. Was he hungry? Thirsty? Did he need the room temperature adjusted? Zenigata waved Lupin off, frustrated enough at wandering around some weird castle in his underwear with his sworn rival. He didn’t want or need Lupin’s attempts at hospitality.

They were in a sitting room—again, filled with tacky Lupin themed art; how much crap did this idiot need?—when an ugly gold plated grandfather clock in the room chimed. Lupin looked at the time on the clock face and frowned.

“Ah, I have an appointment now. The rest of the tour will have to wait.”

Zenigata narrowed his eyes. ‘Appointment’ definitely meant Lupin was offloading the Monet drawings he stole. The thief was severely underestimating the inspector if he thought this dumb kingdom charade would be enough to throw him off and make him forget about the earlier heist.

“But don’t worry, the princess will keep you company!” Lupin continued.

“Huh? Princess?” Maybe it was enough to throw him a little. There was a princess around here somewhere? Was Lupin holding her hostage or something?

Lupin grinned while grabbing Zenigata’s arm. “Lucky us, she’s right next door!”

Lupin pulled Zenigata out of the sitting room and they immediately stopped in front of a painfully ornate wooden door. The word ‘Princess’ was engraved in excessively looping cursive on a small gold plaque.

Lupin went to open the door but paused, and that sad look on his face returned. He took Zenigata’s hand again and kissed it gingerly, as though the older man was a fragile treasure. “You need to take better care of yourself,” he spoke quietly. “What would I do if something happened to you?”

Zenigata’s face flushed at the gesture, just like last time, but he was confused. Did something happen? What was the thief talking about?

“But I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Zenigata wasn’t sure why he felt like he needed to reassure him. Lupin huffed a small laugh in response.

The moment stopped as quickly as it started, and Lupin flung the door open, pushing Zenigata inside.

“Here she is! Have fun, you two!”

The door slammed shut behind the inspector as he stumbled in. He grabbed the handle and pushed but it wouldn’t budge. Zenigata pounded on the door. “Lupin! Let me out!” he hollered, but there was no reply.

He glared at the door, wondering if he could break it down, when he heard a loud yawn from behind him. He spun back to face the room; he forgot he wasn’t alone in here.

The room was just as grand as the rest of the palace, but was thankfully free of stupid artwork of the thief. Plush white carpet covered the floor, expensive looking wood furniture filled the room, and from the ceiling hung a huge crystal chandelier. To his right were clear glass double doors that appeared to lead outside to a balcony. To the left was a huge four poster bed, with ornate wooden columns that held up delicate sheer curtains which were pulled back and tied with golden cords.

And laying on the bed was the one and only Fujiko Mine.

She was outfitted in a flowing green gown, glittering with small jewels sewn into the bodice that cascaded in ripples down the skirt. Perched delicately in her fiery red hair was a tiara adorned with colorful gems. If she was meant to be a princess, she certainly dressed the part.

Except Fujiko looked… bored. She was laying on her side with her chin propped up by her hand, and there was a mild frown on her face. She hardly seemed to notice the inspector was there at all.

Zenigata marched over to Fujiko; she had to know what Lupin was up to since she was apparently in on this stupid kingdom facade. He barely got one word out before Fujiko raised her hand and shushed him. She still wasn’t looking at him, staring off into space.

Angry at being dismissed so casually, Zenigata opened his mouth again to demand answers when a loud explosion of glass erupted behind him.

Walking through the destroyed glass balcony doors was a strange man. He was dressed in a loose white blouse, tight black pants, and wearing a black cloth eye mask with a black bandana covering his head. In his hand was a sword with a curved blade. If Zenigata had to guess, the masked intruder was supposed to be a pirate. Zenigata rolled his eyes at the man’s getup; was this idiot some guy Lupin hired for a dumb stunt?

The pirate spoke, but Zenigata couldn’t understand what he was saying. It seemed like a real language but to Zenigata it was only garbled nonsense. The stranger’s sword (that looked a little too real for a stunt) pointing past the inspector and right at Fujiko did all the talking the pirate needed.

Zenigata dropped into a defensive stance as the stranger approached the bed. He didn’t know what was going on or what the point of all this was, but he wasn’t about to let this creep kidnap Fujiko or whatever he was planning. If anyone was taking her in, it was Inspector Zenigata!

Fujiko yawned again, and the inspector faltered a little. He turned his head to look at her. “Fujiko? Shouldn’t you be taking this seriously?”

The pirate took the opening and swung his cutlass, and Zenigata barely dodged it as he ducked. The blade was inches away from the top of Fujiko’s head as it sliced through the air and smashed into one of the bed’s columns, splintering wood everywhere.

This definitely wasn’t a stunt by Lupin.

The attacker raised his sword, preparing to swing downward onto Fujiko, but Zenigata tackled him, knocking them both to the ground.

“Fujiko! You need to run!” Zenigata tried to pin the man down but he was incredibly strong. He broke out of the hold and got back to his feet. The pirate ignored Zenigata completely and was entirely focused on the lady thief as he began to approach the bed again.

“Hmm? Did you say something?” she finally spoke, but still wasn’t looking at the inspector. Zenigata grabbed the man again and dug his heels into the carpet in an attempt to stop him.

“What are you doing!?” Zenigata yelled, flabbergasted at Fujiko’s casual attitude as he held back the pirate, who was doing his damnedest to march over and kill her.

She shrugged and continued to ignore him.

Out of sheer frustration, Zenigata summoned all his strength, picked the man up, and threw him across the room.

The pirate crashed into a wooden dresser, caving it in, but it didn’t stop him for long. He soon stood up from the wreckage and continued his relentless pursuit of Fujiko. Zenigata stepped between her and the man again, and despite how strangely she was acting, the inspector was ready to keep the assassin away for as long as necessary. It was only the right thing to do.

From behind him, Fujiko sighed deeply as her bored look turned into a disgusted frown. “Ugh, this is so dull. Do people seriously like this junk?” She let out an exasperated huff, shaking her head. “Sorry, old man. I give up.”

She got up from the bed, walked over to the masked pirate, and slapped him hard in the face.

The pirate and Zenigata both stood in stunned silence.

Fujiko looked the inspector in the eyes, as though she finally noticed he was in the room. A rare look of concern crossed her face. “Hey. Are you doing okay?”

“Uh…” Zenigata looked at the unmoving pirate, then back to her. “Maybe?” He felt like he was starting to lose his mind, if he was honest.

He jumped at a sudden knock at the door.

Fujiko perked up at the sound. “Finally! My knight in shining armor,” she said dryly, stretching her arms high above her head. She moved for the door, but stopped and turned to face Zenigata. She had that same sad but kind smile Lupin had been giving him. She got close, kissing his cheek. “Take care,” she whispered.

Zenigata put his hand to his cheek where she kissed him, staring dumbly at her as she opened the door.

“He’s all yours!” she called out as she left.

Zenigata wondered who she was talking to, but then quickly turned back to face the strange masked attacker; he’d gotten distracted by Fujiko’s kiss and let his guard down.

But the pirate was dead on the floor.

Standing above the body was a knight—no, a samurai—draped in plated armor. The samurai sheathed his weapon, a legendary sword whose owner Zenigata would know anywhere.

“G-Goemon!”

Goemon looked at the inspector but did not say anything as he walked toward him. Zenigata froze, not sure what to do. When the samurai got close, he lifted his hand and placed it on the inspector’s forehead. Zenigata could only stand there, unable to comprehend what the hell was going on.

Just when he was about to come to his senses and bat Goemon’s hand away, the samurai removed it himself. A slight frown formed on Goemon’s face, and he promptly turned around and began to walk through the remains of the shattered glass door that lead out to the balcony.

“Hey, wait!” Zenigata followed quickly after the samurai, careful to avoid the glass strewn about the floor. As Zenigata emerged outside, he was met with a view overlooking the castle’s vast landscape. In the distance he could see what appeared to be a huge field of flowers, and what seemed to be an endless forest behind it.

Goemon was already down the balcony’s stone staircase that led out to the castle grounds. Zenigata ran down the stairs and quickly caught up with the samurai, who was walking along a cobblestone path and making his way toward the garden.

“Goemon, hold it, stop! What is all this?” the inspector commanded, trying to get answers out of somebody around here, but Goemon continued walking. Zenigata grumbled in annoyance. Was everyone going to ignore him? He didn’t want to push Goemon’s buttons too much since he was unarmed and no match for Zantetsuken, but he kept following the samurai anyway, not willing to let him out of his sight.

They walked for a while as the morning sun soon turned to midday. It was very warm out, and even in nothing but boxers and a tank top Zenigata could feel himself sweating.

The stone path led them under a wooden trellis draped with vines, and beyond it was the massive flower garden, filled with a veritable rainbow of blooming flowers. Cutting through the garden was a crystal clear stream with a few large oak trees dotting along its banks.

Goemon made his way toward one of the trees that was near a bed of sunflowers. The samurai finally acknowledged Zenigata by motioning for the inspector to sit in the shade. Zenigata, at a loss for what else to do, sat down in the grass.

Goemon knelt next to the stream and pulled out a white washcloth from his sleeve. He dipped it in the running water, rung it out, then returned to Zenigata, sitting down in front of him.

Zenigata flinched when the cloth was brought to his forehead. Goemon paused. “I promise this will help you feel better, Inspector.” He waited for Zenigata to relax, then gently pressed the cloth to his skin.

Zenigata wasn’t sure this was necessary—they weren’t out in the sun that long—but the cool cloth on his face felt… really nice. Goemon continued, dabbing the damp cloth lightly on the inspector’s neck, and Zenigata almost couldn’t resist leaning into the touch.

It was a kind of gentleness he’d never expect from a deadly assassin, and certainly not a kind of gentleness he ever thought would be directed at him.

When he was done, Goemon tucked the cloth back into his sleeve. He stared at Zenigata for a long while, then brought his hand to the inspector’s forehead to brush back some hair that had gotten damp and stuck to the skin.

Before Zenigata could think to say anything, Goemon stood up, looked to his side, and then dashed into the forest bordering the garden.

“Huh? Where are you going?” Zenigata clumsily got up from the grass and ran after the samurai into the woods. He followed the winding path he thought the samurai took for several minutes, heading deeper and deeper into the forest, but Goemon was nowhere to be seen.

Zenigata slowed to a walk as he pressed onward. He could tell the whole crazy morning was catching up to him. He was breathing heavily now, fatigue taking over his body. He wasn’t that out of shape, was he?

As he walked on, the trees seemed to push closer together, and foliage overhead made the forest grow darker and colder. Zenigata wondered if he should give up and head back, but the path abruptly turned, and directly around the corner, leaning casually against a tree, was Lupin’s right-hand man: Daisuke Jigen.

The gunman pushed off the tree and walked toward the inspector. “Hey, Pops. How’s it going?”

Jigen was dressed in his usual suit with his signature hat pulled down over his eyes. It was the first normal thing Zenigata had seen all day, and he was amazed at how relieved he was to see the gunman not wearing a weird costume. Maybe he’d finally get some answers from him, too.

“Jigen, please tell me what’s going on. What is Lupin up to?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Zenigata suddenly could hardly stand. He leaned against a tree and slid to the ground onto his knees. He tried to get up but couldn’t. What was happening to him?

But Jigen didn’t answer. Instead he knelt down to get eye-level with the inspector. He put a hand on Zenigata’s shoulder, and his other hand was closed into a fist and facing palm up, as if he was holding something.

“I need you to wake up for me, okay?”

Zenigata furrowed his brow. Wake up? He was exhausted, sure, but not exactly knocked out.

Jigen smiled at him kindly. “C’mon, Pops. I know you’re tired but I’m here to help you.”

Zenigata was still lost. “Help me with what?”

Jigen gave his shoulder a gentle pat. “You only have to wake up for a little bit, alright?”

A sharp, chill wind blew through the woods. Zenigata shivered, then saw pieces of the tree trunk next to him begin to pebble off, falling apart like grains of sand. The entire forest began to sag and shudder as the woods around them broke down, cascading to the forest floor.

Zenigata grabbed for Jigen and tried to will himself to move. “We have to get out of here!” he shouted. Zenigata eyes darted around, panicked, as he watched more and more of the forest crumble. The gunman didn’t react at all, still kneeling and hold out his hand.

Soon even the ground beneath him began to break apart. He tried to hold onto to Jigen, but his grip failed. The earth itself gave way, and Zenigata tumbled into an empty void.

He fell.

And fell.

And the world above dimmed to a point until there was nothing but darkness.

Zenigata bolted upright. He was sitting in a bed, his fists clenching the sheets.

He was falling, wasn’t he? How did he get here? How did he survive?

Was that all just a dream?

“Knock knock! I’m coming in!” The bedroom door opened as an all too familiar voice floated in.

It was Lupin and—oh no. He was still wearing that godawful regal costume. Followed closely behind Lupin was Goemon, still dressed in samurai armor. Zenigata took a good look around the bedroom and it was the same level of rich and tacky as all the rooms he saw in the castle. He wasn’t imagining it; he was still stuck in Lupin’s fake kingdom.

If this wasn’t a dream, it certainly felt like a nightmare.

“Did you have a good nap?” Lupin asked, all smiles and charm as he and the samurai approached the bed. “Sir Goemon found you passed out in the woods. Seems like you had a fun day!”

Zenigata scowled at him. Being held captive in this stupid place was not his idea of ‘fun’. And passing out in the forest—

Wait, what did happen out there? He remembered running after Goemon, but after that…

Why couldn’t he focus?

“Anyway!” Lupin clapped his hands, interrupting the inspector’s thoughts. “Hope you’re ready for the festivities tonight!”

Zenigata buried his head in his hands. “Lupin, please. Enough of this already.” At this point he’d let the thief get away with the heist for all he cared. He was so tired.

“Tut tut, my dear inspector!” Lupin chided playfully. “And miss out on our engagement party?”

Zenigata’s head sprang up. “E-engagement?!” Did he hear that right?!

“Of course! That’s why I brought you here, remember? I’m going to ask for your hand before all my loyal subjects so they can meet their new king!” Lupin winked. “I hope you accept!”

Immediately, Zenigata wanted to say yes.

No, wait, what the hell was he thinking? This was all a weird trick!

He glared at the thief. “I’m not going to some dumb party, Lupin. I’m tired of whatever this game is.”

Lupin shook his head. “No, you’re right. We can’t have you attending the party in your underwear, now can we?”

Lupin snapped his fingers, and a small group of the weird Lupin-dressed ladies from before walked into the room holding several articles of clothing. They approached him on the bed and gently took his hands, guiding him to his feet. Zenigata couldn’t seem to stop himself, as if his body moved on its own. Before the inspector knew it, they had him dressed head to toe in a black designer tuxedo, complete with Italian leather shoes. He gawked at himself in a mirror one of the women held up for him. He never felt so fancy in his life.

Lupin let out a low whistle, then held out his hand. “Ready to go?”

Zenigata automatically reached for Lupin’s hand. Why was he going along with this?

Lupin gave the inspector’s hand a squeeze and turned to the samurai. “Sir Goemon, if you’d lead the way, please!”

Lupin kept holding his hand and smiling at him as they walked down the corridor. Zenigata shivered. That smile seemed to light up every nerve in his body. He shook his head, trying to snap out of it.

At end of the hall were massive stained glass doors that reached the ceiling, composed of a pattern that looked like Lupin’s face. Zenigata felt dizzy at the sight of them as Goemon pushed the doors open.

What greeted them was an enormous banquet hall filled with colorful streamers, balloons, and banners, of which were plastered with both Lupin and Zenigata’s faces. Hundreds of women in their Lupin-style jackets were seated at round tables, decorated with floral centerpieces and bold color tablecloths. The ladies clapped and cheered from their seats as the men walked to the front of the room, where a white head table was elevated on a stage.

Fujiko was already seated at the table, looking as bored as before. Goemon took his seat next to her, Lupin sat at the very center, and Zenigata sat down next to the thief. The cheering continued, and Zenigata felt embarrassed at all the attention, looking down in his lap. Lupin gave his hand another comforting squeeze.

Zenigata, in an effort to avoid eye contact with anyone, looked to his left. There was an empty chair next to him. He had a feeling something, or someone, was missing, but couldn’t put his finger on it. Why couldn’t he remember?

He felt way too warm in the tuxedo, too. He tugged at the collar to try to get a bit of airflow, but it was too snug. He almost wished he was back in his underwear. Why was the room so damn hot?

Lupin stood from his seat, clinking a knife to his wine glass to get everyone’s attention and temper the crowd’s cheers. “Tonight, I have a very important question to ask. As you know, I have been searching for someone special to help rule Lupin Land by my side. And now I have finally found my perfect match, and I hope to be his, too.”

Lupin turned to Zenigata, taking the inspector’s hand in his.

“Koichi Zenigata, will you marry me?”

It felt like time stopped when the question hit Zenigata’s ears. It rang and echoed, over and over, reverberating through his whole body down to his core. His face felt so hot, his head was spinning, and Lupin seemed to be the only thing in focus.

He opened his mouth and said the only word he needed to:

“Yes.”

Why did he say that? Was he out of his mind? It was all some stupid game, wasn’t it?

But why did it feel so right?

Lupin leaned in for a kiss and Zenigata felt himself drawn to the thief’s mouth, moving toward him like nothing else in the world mattered.

Before they could embrace, the ballroom shook and rumbled, and the hull of an enormous pirate ship crashed through the wall.

Water poured in rapidly from where the ship breached the building. The roar of the deluge mixed with the screaming guests was almost too much to bear as Zenigata, Lupin, Goemon, and Fujiko all clambered on top of the table to escape the flooding. The water churned violently, turning into huge waves and whirlpools. Another ship crashed through the wall, and the impact made Zenigata lose his balance. He slipped off the table, plunging into the water.

“Zenigata!” Lupin yelled, grabbing the inspector's hand. Goemon and Fujiko grabbed hold of each other as the three thieves formed a chain, trying to keep them all from being sucked into the riptide. But Zenigata couldn’t hold on any longer, and he was pulled into the flood.

The water filled the ballroom fast. Zenigata was knocked around by the rushing force, and desperately tried to keep his head above the surface. A current pulled him downward, and he held his breath. He was knocked back and forth in the undertow, and starting to get light headed. He tried to reorient himself and make his way back up, but couldn’t find the strength anymore.

“Pops.”

A voice?

Zenigata twisted around in the water, trying to find it. The water was dark now, and he could barely see anything as he desperately looked everywhere. He soon came face-to-face with Jigen, floating above him, crossing his arms. When did he get there?

“You gotta breathe, old man.”

Breathe? Was he crazy? Did Jigen want him to swallow a lungful of water?

But Zenigata realized Jigen was talking to him, clear as day, as though the water didn’t exist at all. How was he doing that? Was this really water? Were the others okay, then? Zenigata’s questions faded as his vision dimmed; he felt like he was going to black out.

“Zenigata,” Jigen placed a hand on the inspector’s chest. “Breathe,” he commanded.

Zenigata tried to steel himself. If Jigen was breathing, then he could too. He couldn’t be afraid of the water.

Zenigata pulled in a deep breath and everything went black.

Zenigata coughed and gasped as he awoke, trying to catch his breath. His chest rose and fell hard, until it settled into a steady rhythm. Breathing had never felt so good before in his life. Everything else hurt, though.

“You were scaring me there for a bit, Pops.”

Zenigata jumped at the voice. He looked to his right and there sat the gunman. “J-Jigen!” Zenigata bolted upright. He tried to get out of the bed but could barely move. His entire body felt stiff and weak, and his heart was about to pound out of his chest.

“Easy there.” Jigen placed his hands lightly on Zenigata’s shoulders, grounding him. “I was here before, remember?”

Zenigata stared, not understanding what the gunman meant. Of course Jigen was there before. But where did all the water go?

“What happened? Is everyone okay?” Zenigata rasped weakly, his throat sore from his coughing fit.

“Huh?” Jigen gave him a puzzled look. “Of course we’re okay.”

Zenigata’s eyes scanned their surroundings and he found himself looking at a very plain, if somewhat shabby, bedroom. It stank vaguely of cigarettes, and there were cracks where the drywall met the ceiling. The sparse furniture and decorations were old and worn, with exception of a plain glass vase filled with freshly cut sunflowers. Outside a dirty window, the faint sounds of a bustling Parisian street filtered in through the thin pane glass.

His head was pounding, and everything ached, but it all told him one thing: the airship, the castle, the party… none of it was real. He was finally awake.

“It was all…” Zenigata let out a big sigh, shutting his eyes in relief. “Sorry. I thought I was…” He trailed off, not sure how to explain himself.

Jigen guided Zenigata to lay back down and the inspector didn’t resist. “I’m not surprised you’re confused. You’ve been really out of it this whole time. You were running a high fever for a few days, but it’s finally gone down some.”

“What? Days?!” Zenigata’s eyes went wide. He almost sat up again in shock but he had no energy left. What the hell happened to him?

Jigen leaned back in his chair, crossing a leg over the other and folding his arms. “You were chasing Lupin downtown when you collapsed. He noticed you’d stopped following him all of a sudden and got worried, so he went back and found you.”

Zenigata blinked. Did he hear that right? Lupin was worried about him? And risked getting caught when he could have run away instead?

Jigen continued. “He dragged you back to the car and brought you here. Said something about how you’re too stubborn to stay home and take care of yourself, so we’ve been taking turns watching you.”

Zenigata wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Was he touched that the thieves helped him? Or upset that they thought he was so pathetic?

Jigen shrugged. “It was no big deal to help you out, if that’s what’s bothering you.”

“No, it’s-“ Zenigata began, but was interrupted by a figure knocking on and pushing open the bedroom door.

“Jiiiiigen,” Lupin called out as he walked in. “I’m back from the dry cleaner’s. I’ll take my shift now—“ Lupin stopped when his eyes fell on the bed and he saw Zenigata awake and staring at him.

“Pops! You’re up!” Lupin almost let go of the garment bag slung over his back. He quickly hung it up in the closet and rushed to Zenigata’s side. “How are you feeling? Need anything? I can get you some water, or some lunch, or-“

Jigen pushed Lupin’s face back. “Quit crowding him, man. You’ll spook him.”

“Nonsense! I’m his favorite nurse! Who else lovingly spoon fed him, and read to him, and-“

Jigen leaned in close to the thief. “He doesn’t remember the past few days, Lupin, ease up,” he muttered quietly.

“Oh.” Lupin looked… disappointed? He seemed like he was about to say something else when Zenigata stomach growled loudly. The inspector’s face went beet red.

Lupin only smiled warmly at him. “I’ll get you something to eat. Chicken and rice soup sound okay?”

“Uh, sure.” Zenigata nodded.

“Great, be right back!”

Zenigata watched Lupin rush out the door and sighed. He closed his eyes to rest them for a moment but immediately snapped them open again; he didn’t want the dream to come back if he fell asleep.

There was another knock on the door, and this time Goemon entered.

“I heard from Lupin that you were awake. How are you feeling?”

Zenigata huffed a weak laugh. “Like a truck ran over me.”

“That’s not possible. You collapsed on the sidewalk.” Goemon approach the bed and placed his hand on the inspector’s forehead for a few moments. Zenigata could only stare awkwardly at the samurai, but it felt weirdly comforting. Goemon nodded in approval as he lifted his hand away. “Your fever is much lower now.”

Jigen let out a loud yawn. Zenigata wondered how long he’d been sitting there and keeping an eye on him.

“I can watch over him if you need rest,” Goemon offered the gunman.

Jigen shook his head. “Nah, I’m alright. I’ll wait for Lupin to get back.”

Goemon nodded but stayed in the room, settling onto the floor near the bed.

Zenigata couldn’t help yawning as well. Even though he’d been mostly sleeping this whole time, he still felt exhausted.

“You should to get some more rest after you eat, Inspector,” Goemon advised.

Zenigata rubbed his eyes, trying to keep them open. “I don’t really want to sleep.”

Jigen kicked his foot onto the edge of the bed and leaned back in his chair. “We promise we’ll be on our best behavior, Pops. You can relax.”

Zenigata shook his head. “That’s not it. I was… “ Zenigata paused, wondering why he was about to admit this, but kept going. “I was having the weirdest dream.”

“A dream?” Goemon asked curiously.

A sly smirk tugged at Jigen’s mouth. “Were there pirates in it?”

Zenigata blinked in surprise. “Uh, yes.” He glared at the gunman suspiciously. “How the hell did you know that?” He glanced at Goemon, but the samurai looked equally confused by his partner’s question.

Jigen burst out laughing, slapping his knee. “Oi, Fujiko!” he called out the door to the hallway.

“What?” Fujiko called back, her footsteps approaching the bedroom. Zenigata was amazed Fujiko was here too. Was she keeping an eye on him as well?

“That movie you were watching gave Pops nightmares!” The gunman was howling, laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes.

“Whaaaat?” Fujiko’s heels clicked as she walked in. “No way, it was just some dumb action film! It wasn’t even that good, I turned it off halfway through!” She looked at Zenigata and frowned. “Did you really have a nightmare?”

Zenigata blushed and looked away. Fujiko groaned, putting a hand over her face. Jigen kept laughing and Fujiko glared at him. “It’s not that funny. Knock it off.”

“See? I told you it would freak him out while he was out of it,” Jigen admonished, but he was more amused than anything. His laughter wound down but he still had a wide grin on his face.

Fujiko crossed her arms and huffed. “Whatever! I was bored! And I thought he might like it! Was I supposed to sit and stare at him the whole time?”

“Aw, Fujicakes, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad!” Lupin reassured her as he walked back in, carrying a steaming bowl of soup on a bed tray. Fujiko rolled her eyes and sat down on the end of the bed near where Goemon was seated on the floor. She glanced at the samurai and saw he was trying to suppress a smile. He didn’t try to dodge as she punched him in the shoulder.

Zenigata watched the group of thieves as Jigen helped him sit up, propping pillows behind his back. It was odd seeing them squabble like friends, acting so casually and lowering their guard around him. It made him feel a bit out of place, but he sort of liked the idea of being included, too.

“I’m kind of relieved the dream was because of a movie.” Zenigata huffed a laugh as Lupin placed down the bed tray in front of him. “It felt so real. I actually thought I was still dreaming when I woke up.” He scratched at his head sheepishly. “All four of you were there, too.”

Jigen snorted. “Yeah? That much of a nightmare, huh?”

“It- it wasn’t… all terrible...” Zenigata wasn’t sure why he felt like he had to reassure the group. It was just a stupid dream. None of it was real, right?

“Oh?” Lupin prompted.

The little crowd of thieves waited for him to continue. Zenigata felt his whole face get hot while everyone looked at him. Maybe he could blame it on his fever, or the steam from the soup. Why were they so damn interested in what he dreamt about?

Jigen picked up on Zenigata’s apprehension and rose from his seat. “Alright, let’s give Pops some space. You good to take your shift, boss?” He stretched and yawned. “Damn, I need a nap,” he muttered, scratching his beard.

“Yep!” Lupin slid into the chair by the bed. “Thanks for taking such good care of our dear inspector!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jigen waved him off as he walked out. Goemon stood from his place on the floor, nodded to Lupin, and followed suit.

“I have to leave anyway,” Fujiko rose from the end of the bed and walked over to Lupin, draping a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure you boys can handle things from here.”

Lupin smiled softly. “Thanks for sticking around, Fujiko.”

She gave Lupin a sultry smile in return, lifting his chin with her finger. “I’ll figure out how much you owe me later.”

Lupin went in for a kiss but she dodged him effortlessly. She instead walked over to Zenigata and kissed his forehead, then moved her lips close to his ear. “Get well soon,” she whispered, so quietly only he could hear.

She stepped back with a smile and a wink, then blew a kiss to Lupin, who mimed catching it and placed his fingers to his lips. He grinned and waved as she sauntered out of the bedroom. Both men stared out after her as she left.

Lupin turned back to face the inspector. “Soup’s probably cool enough now.”

“Oh! Right, thanks.”

They sat quietly as he ate, and Zenigata hoped Lupin had already lost interest in hearing about the dream. He’d rather not talk to the thief about anything if he could; it was strange enough being taken care of by him, but being alone with Lupin always put him on edge.

But Lupin broke the silence first. “I’m glad you’re doing better, Pops. Need me to get you anything else?”

Zenigata sighed, setting his spoon down. Lupin being so nice to him for no reason was weird. Just what was his angle? He closed his eyes, feeling frustrated. “Why are you doing this, Lupin?”

“Doing what?” Lupin seemed genuinely confused.

“Helping me. What do you get out of it?”

“Nothing. It felt like the right thing to do.”

Zenigata rolled his eyes, not buying it. “Jigen said something about you not thinking I could take care of myself. I don’t need you to pity me or whatever this is supposed to be.”

Lupin frowned. “Pops, you were working so hard with a fever you passed out in the street. You weren’t in any shape to get help all alone.”

Zenigata felt himself getting angrier. “And you couldn’t just take me to a hospital?”

“What, so you could check yourself out before you fully recovered?”

“What do you care? Aren’t you better off with me out of the way?”

Lupin suddenly took Zenigata’s hand and held it, staring softly at the inspector. All the anger rushed out of him as Zenigata’s cheeks went pink. He had the weirdest feeling this had happened before.

“I wanted to keep you safe.”

Lupin slowly lifted Zenigata’s hand, placing the back of it to his lips and closing his eyes. The inspector’s heart pounded in his chest, and an intense feeling of deja vu rocketed through him.

Oh no.

That part was real?

Zenigata stared at the thief, blushing vigorously. Lupin moved his hand down and stared back, waiting.

“Lupin- you-“ Zenigata stammered. He felt like his whole body was on fire.

He had to ask, had to know for sure, but he was scared he already knew the truth:

“You did that before, didn’t you?”

A brief flash of relief washed over Lupin’s face, but it turned back into his easy smile. “Did that happen in your dream? Sounds like you were more awake than you thought! What else happened?” Lupin grinned, grabbing the tray and soup bowl and setting them aside, then settling back into his chair to eagerly hear more.

Zenigata blushed harder. Lupin had caught him out, and now was expecting to hear every weird detail of his fever dream, ready to find out what else the inspector actually remembered of the past few days. He looked at Lupin, wondering if there was any way he could get out of doing this, but the thief sat patiently, as if he had all the time in the world for him.

Zenigata sighed, defeated. “I think it started with me chasing you down an alleyway…”

To Lupin’s credit, he seemed genuinely interested in hearing about the dream. Zenigata normally found listening to people recount dreams boring, but Lupin was acting like he was being told a fairytale.

Naturally, Lupin was very pleased at how central the dream was surrounding him, and delighted at the idea of having hundreds of cute women helping him run his own kingdom. Zenigata rolled his eyes; the man really was a textbook narcissist.

In hindsight, a lot of what happened made sense as Lupin helped fill in the gaps of what was going on in the waking world while Zenigata was out of it. Things like the airship were the car ride to the apartment hideout, and Lupin pointed over his shoulder at the garment bag in the closet; inside of it was Zenigata’s coat and suit that he had cleaned for him.

The thief also sheepishly admitted he did sell the Monet sketches while the inspector was passed out in bed. Zenigata groaned. So much for that case.

Zenigata stumbled over his words a little when he had to recount the hand kisses back to Lupin, who seemed to love hearing about them all over again. Apparently the inspector was talking back to Lupin in these moments, but he couldn’t remember saying much at all. The thief coyly kept what Zenigata said to himself, much to the inspector’s chagrin.

“You’re the one telling the story, Pops!”

When Zenigata mentioned finding the dream version of Fujiko on a bed, Lupin sat straight up, completely ecstatic, but sulked when it turned out she was fully clothed and stayed that way the whole time.

“You could’ve at least had a sexy dream.” Lupin whined, but urged him to continue.

When the inspector got to Goemon’s part in the story, Lupin all but cooed at how Zenigata imagined the samurai. “Aw, Goemon really is a knight in shining armor, isn’t he?”

There was a knock on the partially open bedroom door, and Goemon poked his head in. “I heard my name. Is everything alright?” the samurai asked as he entered the room.

Lupin waved him over. “Yeah, Pops was telling me how cute you were being in his dream.”

Goemon gave Zenigata a curious but unoffended look as he approached the bed. “Cute?”

Zenigata blushed, not sure what to say. But Lupin was eager to fill him in.

“Sitting in a flower garden together and cooling him down with a damp cloth,” Lupin let out an exaggerated sigh, putting his chin in his hands. “How romantic!”

It was Goemon’s turn to blush. “Forgive me if I disturbed your sleep, Inspector. I was merely trying to help reduce your fever.”

“No, no! It’s alright,” Zenigata waved his hands in a reassuring gesture. “It felt, um, very nice. Thank you.”

Goemon blushed further. “Oh, I’m glad to hear it.”

The two men turned away from each other, completely red-faced. They didn’t see the mischievous glint that appeared in Lupin’s eyes.

“Hey Goemon, do you wanna help Pops take a bath later?”

Both men whipped their heads back toward the thief.

“What?!” Zenigata shouted, mortified. Goemon’s eyes widened.

The thief shrugged nonchalantly at the inspector. “What’s the big deal, Pops? You’ll probably want a proper bath soon since you’ve been stuck in bed for a few days. And it’d be dangerous for you to take one by yourself right now. There’s nothing wrong with getting some help.”

Oh. Zenigata deflated from his outburst. Lupin actually had a good point; he was still feeling too weak to do much by himself. And a bath did sound like a nice idea.

Lupin nodded to the samurai. “Would you be okay with that?”

Goemon coughed, composing himself. “I’d be happy to assist if you’d like me to, Inspector.”

Zenigata rubbed his neck bashfully. “Uh, yeah. That’d be great, honestly. A bath might help me feel better. Thanks, Goemon.”

Goemon nodded, but he still looked a bit flushed. “Of course. I’ll come back for you later, then.”

“Right, uh, looking forward to it.” Zenigata replied, then turned crimson at his verbal slip up.

Goemon’s face matched the inspector’s in hue as he nodded again. “Right. Yes. See you then.”

As Goemon retreated, Zenigata put his head in his hands. He glanced over to Lupin, who looked incredibly pleased with himself.

“Shut up, Lupin.”

The thief looked up and away, feigning innocence. “I didn’t say anything!”

When he mentally recovered from his embarrassing moment with the samurai, Zenigata continued on with the story, and Lupin kept interjecting with his own commentary.

It made the inspector let his guard down. He assumed the thief had an answer for anything that happened during the dream; practically everything seemed to line up with reality in one way or another.

So when Zenigata all-too-casually mentioned the part about their engagement party, Lupin’s eyebrows shot up.

“Huh? We got engaged?”

Uh oh. Zenigata’s flu-addled brain definitely made that part up. He felt so betrayed.

“Oh, um, I guess my fever was really high for that part?” Zenigata tried to laugh it off, but it came out too forced.

Lupin’s surprised expression soon turned into a big smile, spreading across his face.

“A few kisses and you’re hearing wedding bells?” Lupin picked up Zenigata’s hand and kissed it with a wink. “I like the way you think.”

Zenigata pulled his hand away. “It was just a stupid dream, Lupin. That part wasn’t real.”

“Did you want it to be?”

Zenigata froze. “What?”

Lupin leaned forward, looking intently at the inspector. “Do you want to me to make it real for you?”

Zenigata could only stare at him as he started to sweat. He was screwing with him, right?

“I mean, getting engaged might be moving too fast,” Lupin grinned. “I’d like to at least take you on a date first.”

Zenigata frowned. Of course the thief was just making a stupid joke. “Don’t mess with me about that kind of stuff, Lupin. It’s not funny.”

Lupin stopped smiling and raised an eyebrow. “Who says I’m joking?”

Without warning, Lupin hopped over Zenigata and laid next to him on the bed. Startled, Zenigata shifted to face the thief.

“Mind if I join you?” Lupin asked as he laid there, leaving a gap between them.

“I…” Zenigata flushed as he looked at the thief. He expected a number of different annoying faces from Lupin in this position: cocky, smug, jokey, teasing. But none of them came. Lupin looked open and earnest as he waited. He’d seen that same sincerity when Lupin held his hand.

It wasn’t a joke, and it wasn’t a game.

“…I don’t mind,” Zenigata answered.

Lupin draped an arm across the inspector’s chest and let his hand rest over his heart, and the inspector wondered if Lupin could feel his pulse racing. Zenigata tentatively brought his own hand up to rest on top the thief’s in response. Lupin twisted his wrist and threaded their fingers together.

Lupin pressed in closer. “What else do you want to be real?”

Zenigata blushed, recalling what was going to happen next if he kept telling the story. He felt himself longing for the kiss they didn’t get to have, despite it being just a dream.

Lupin, being Lupin, managed to guess when Zenigata couldn’t find the words. “Did we seal our engagement with a kiss?”

“Um,” Zenigata had to look away; he felt a bit self-conscious with Lupin staring at him like that. “We almost did,” he admitted.

“Almost?“ Lupin put a finger under the inspector’s chin and gently guided his face back to look at the thief. “Was almost good enough?”

Zenigata squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed. “…No.”

“We better fix that, then.”

Lupin’s lips softly brushed his, just enough to offer a taste, and Zenigata chased the feeling of them, pressing his own lips onto Lupin’s. He felt the thief smile against him, and Lupin brought up a hand to card gently through Zenigata’s hair. Zenigata hummed and brought up an arm around Lupin, pulling him closer. It was so much better than he could have imagined.

The kissing stayed light—the inspector didn’t have much energy for anything else—and when Lupin finally pulled back he didn’t stray far, resting his head on Zenigata’s shoulder with a happy sigh. The inspector melted into the touch, leaning his head on Lupin’s.

After several minutes of comfortable silence, Lupin let out a small laugh. “C’mon Pops, don’t keep me hanging,” he sat up a little to look at Zenigata with a radiant smile. “I want to hear how the story ends!”

“So Jigen was the hero? Aw man, how come he got to be the cool one?” Lupin flopped his head down onto Zenigata’s chest, playing up his disappointment. The inspector wondered if he should apologize when the door creaked open.

“What about me— oh for fuck’s sake, Lupin.” Jigen rolled his eyes, just barely visible under his hat, as he walked into the room.

“Jigen!” Lupin’s head sprang up, pleased to see his partner. “I thought you were napping?”

“Realized I forgot to give Pops his meds after he woke up.” He walked over to the bed and jabbed Lupin in the side. “Get off him, man. Let him rest.”

“It-it’s fine,” Zenigata muttered. Jigen shook his head and Lupin giggled in delight, nuzzling in closer to the inspector.

“So, what were you two lovebirds gossiping about behind my back?” Jigen teased as he portioned out the medicine. Zenigata wanted to bury himself under the covers but Lupin was all too happy to regale the gunman on his role in the dream. Zenigata slapped his hand over the thief’s mouth and cut back in when Lupin started adding details that definitely did not happen and were way too explicit.

Jigen grimaced when he heard how the dream ended. “Sheesh, no wonder you didn’t want to go back to sleep. That water stuff sounds freaky.”

“But you were soooo cool! I’m jealous!” Lupin mimicked the final moment as it was described, placing his hand on Zenigata’s chest and leaning in close to the inspector face with an impish grin. He then kissed his nose. Zenigata almost forgot to breathe all over again.

Jigen smirked. “Yeah you should be, since dream-you fucked off somewhere while Pops was drowning.”

Lupin gasped. “Rude! Well, the real me would never do that, and that’s all that matters.” He wrapped his arms protectively around Zenigata with a dramatic pout.

Jigen shook his head while he chuckled. “Damn, I can’t even use the points dream-me scored with Pops? What happened to me being cool?”

“Maybe you should be the one cuddling up with him then, Mr. Hero.” Lupin stuck out his tongue at the gunman, but he couldn’t keep a straight face.

Jigen hummed. “Sounds fun. I’ll save my turn for when he’s less contagious, though.”

“…your turn?” Zenigata finally spoke up.

Jigen shrugged. “Sure, if you want to.” He tipped his hat up to give the inspector a coy look. “I hear I make a good big spoon if that sweetens the deal.”

Zenigata was already barely processing Lupin being all over him for the past ten minutes, and now Jigen wanted him too?

Lupin gave the gunman a sly smirk. “Goemon might beat you to it. He’s giving Pops a bath later and they’re both really looking forward to it.” The thief waggled his eyebrows, wrapping an arm around Zenigata’s shoulders and pressing their faces together. The inspector groaned from embarrassment and shoved Lupin’s head away, but the thief only giggled. He plucked Zenigata’s hand off his face and kissed the inside of the wrist, making the inspector shiver.

Jigen barked a laugh. “Shit, I gotta step up my game. At this rate Fujiko will get to have fun with Pops before I do.”

If Zenigata blushed any harder his fever might come back. In hindsight, he had to admit he should’ve picked up on something with Goemon. But even Fujiko?

“…do you really mean all that?” the inspector asked.

“Of course!” Lupin kissed Zenigata’s cheek, and the inspector couldn’t hold back a bashful smile.

Jigen grinned. “You might not believe it, but we’re all pretty fond of you, Pops.”

Zenigata could believe it. And he was glad this wasn’t dream.