Chapter Text
Arsène Lupin, better known to the world as the Gentleman Thief, Lupin III, let out a devious cackle as he danced around the latest trap that he’d “accidentally” set off in an ancient roman temple lost to time.
“Would you quit goofing around, Lupin!” Jigen growled from behind the red-coated burglar, now forced to maneuver around the couple dozen rusty spears that Lupin left in his wake.
“Oh, c’mon Jigen, let me have a little fun.” The other man whined while sporting a large grin. “The traps in here are so old and weathered half of them don’t even work anymore.” To prove his point, he stepped down on an obvious pressure trap. Jigen tensed, and after a long moment, let out a sigh born from both relief and annoyance. “See? I gotta get my kicks where I can, man.”
“Tch, you’re just tempting fate. Idiot.” The gunman looked over the pressure plate, noticing that it seemed to have gotten stuck, and blew a cloud of smoke into the air. “I have to admit, never been treasure hunting where the death traps don’t work. If only all our dives into old ruins went like this.”
“Yeah, you can blame the faulty trap work on Mount Vesuvius.” Lupin began, always eager to share the history behind the objects of his heists. “The small Rock of Rovigliano peeks out above the water at the mouth of river Sarno in the Gulf of Naples. According to legend, this little islet originated when Heracles, after returning from the tenth of his twelve labors, detached the top of nearby Mount Faito and hurled it into the sea. A temple was built here, naturally, since it was supposedly tied to the gods, but a good portion of the island sank when Vesuvius blew her top back in 79 A.D. However, thanks to the ash and magma, a crust of earth encapsuled the sinking temple, preserving its structure.” Lupin shot a disappointed glance at the trap. “Well, for the most part. As a result,” The thief continued, regaining his cheer. “the island was submerged until only the very peak of it remained above the surface.”
“What? And no one’s gone looking for this place since then? That’s pretty friggin’ hard to believe.” Jigen remarked as he looked upwards to the shell above their heads. While he wasn't one to get claustrophobic, the craggy crust of earth was far from comforting when one remembered they were surrounded by water. Lupin had assured him that the ceiling would only come down on them if an earthquake occurred... or if another volcano decided to erupt. This was why they had spent the last two hours digging out an entrance into the buried temple instead of using some good ole TNT.
“Nah, why would anyone spare a thought for this place when a whole city like Pompeii needs to be rediscovered?” Lupin shrugged. “Maybe in a couple decades someone will think to check this place out.” He aimed a conspiring, greedy grin towards his partner. “But by then we’ll have already robbed this place of its greatest treasure. Still, even though people forgot about the temple, this storied rock was used for lots of things over the centuries. Some rich guy had his private residence built here in the 6th century, which eventually became a monastery for young women in the 9th century, and finally a Cistercian monastery and church in the 12th century. The ruins at the top are from a fortress and tower built in the 16th century to defend against Saracen raids. The island was retired from military use in 1860 after the unification of Italy and the fortress was briefly used as a restaurant during the 1930s before the islet was finally abandoned.”
“Not that the history lesson isn’t riveting, Lupin, but what kind of treasure does this sunken temple supposedly have?” Jigen asked, well used to his partner’s eagerness to play tour guide. “You said it was a cup or something?”
“A chalice, actually. The Chalice of Janus to be exact.” The gunman rolled his eyes under the brim of his hat as Lupin’s voice took on a stuffy, know-it-all tone. “Crafted nearly 3,000 years ago, it’s said to be made from solid gold and is embossed with two faces, a man’s and a woman’s, each wearing a crown formed from snakes. The chalice has another name however—la Coppa Delle Anime Gemelle.” Lupin grinned at the confused look on his friend’s face. “In English it means the Cup of Soulmates.”
“So, it is a cup.” Jigen retorted smugly and Lupin sniffed. “Why are we going after something so… sappy?” Realization dawned on him as Lupin hunched his shoulders and quickly looked away. “Oh hell, this has to do with Fujiko, doesn’t it!?” The gunman demanded and Lupin sheepishly toed the ground, even as his face set into a determined frown. “Damnit, I should’ve stayed at the hotel with Goemon.”
“Hey, c’mon man. I’m not just gonna give it to her!” Lupin denied halfheartedly before his stance straightened up, chest puffing outwards. “Legend has it that whoever drinks from the chalice is bonded with their soulmate at very personal level! And when I drink from it—hehehe!” The man devolved into perverse giggles, cheeks coloring as his imagination ran wild.
“Oh boy.” Jigen grumbled as he lightly smacked his hand against his forehead, hat shifting to accommodate the action. “Mark my words Lupin, whatever you’re thinking isn’t gonna happen. By the end of this you’re gonna end up looking like a horse’s ass, just like you always do when Fujiko is involved.”
“Yeah, yeah.” The thief huffed while waving a hand dismissively. “Now then, the chamber with our prize should be at the end of this hallway.” After a few more active, but ultimately ineffectual traps, the duo entered a large room with crumbling columns and dirty mosaic tiles that formed an enclosed amphitheater. The walls were covered in soot, parts eroded away, but Jigen thought he could see paintings of… well, he wasn’t really sure to be honest. The figures seemed humanoid, but they had too many limbs. Probably some sort of roman mythical creature or whatever. Instead, the gunman directed his attention to the pit in the middle of the circular room where a pedestal rested in the center.
There, on top of the pedestal, was the cup, gleaming and golden. Jigen paused, brow furrowing. The room was covered in dirt and soot, looking exactly how ruins should, but the cup practically looked as if someone had given it a spit shine recently. He shot a glance at Lupin, who looked as wary as the gunman suddenly felt. Sharing a nod, the duo cautiously moved further into the room and Jigen shifted when he spotted something propped up against the other side of the pedestal.
“Lupin, check it out.” With one hand on his revolver, he watched as Lupin edged forwards.
“Arara?” Lupin trilled nonsensically as he squatted down and Jigen shuffled closer, realizing that what he spotted was remains of some poor dead shmuck, their yellowed bones still wearing dirty, torn rags. “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. Jigen, meet Pliny the Elder. He was a Roman author, naturalist, natural philosopher, a naval and army commander of the early Roman Empire, as well as a friend of the emperor Vespasian. He wrote the encyclopedic Naturalis Historia, the first of its kind, which then became an editorial model for all encyclopedias.”
“Sounds like a real celebrity. What’s he doing down here?”
“It’s common belief that he died along with everyone else in Pompeii while attempting to rescue a friend and his family from the eruption. Clearly, he either didn’t make it that far, or they got out of the city but were separated. If the ash didn’t kill him, being sealed away down here without any food or water sure as hell did.” Lupin stood, a smirk reappearing on his face as he turned his attention back to the chalice. “Hello beautiful. Come to daddy!” The worldclass thief reached out to swipe the cup when he suddenly went still. "Huh?"
“Lupin?”
“…There’s something inside the chalice.” Lupin took the cup with more care and brought it closer. Jigen walked up behind him, glancing into the cup from over the man’s shoulder. There was a clear liquid inside of it and Lupin gave it a couple sniffs, looking thoroughly puzzled.
“How the hell…?”
“You got me, pal.” Lupin replied as he looked upwards, holding out a hand to check if something might be dripping down from the ceiling. “There’s no stalactites to suggest that precipitation is the cause, and any hole or cracks that would’ve let the gulf seep through means there should be water all over the place.”
“…Alright, I’m getting the heebie-jeebies. I say we cut our losses and ditch the cup, boss. If you wanna make Fujiko happy, just steal her some friggin’ diamonds or something.”
“No way! We’ve already got the chalice, like hell I’m leaving here emptyhanded!” Jigen opened his mouth to argue–
“LUPIN!” Both men jolted and turned towards the entrance where one Inspector Zenigata stood, their jaws dropping in disbelief. The ICPO officer stood slightly hunched over, chest heaving, with a visible tear noticeable along the left shoulder of his iconic trench coat, and a pair of handcuffs dangling from his grip. “You’re under arrest! Looting from cultural sites like this is viewed as a serious crime here in Italy.”
“Crap, it’s Pops. How the hell did he find us?” Holding the cup out in front of him, the thief darted away from the inspector’s rushing form. “Let’s get out of here, Jigen!”
“Right behind you!”
“Lupin!” Zenigata dove, cuffs coming down on his perp’s closest wrist, only to yelp as a human skull was kicked up at him by Jigen. His quick reflexes ensured that he caught it before he could kiss the damn thing and Lupin snickered.
“Maybe we should leave you and old Pliny here to get better acquainted, huh Pops? That’s probably the most action you’ve gotten in years!” Zenigata felt his face flush with anger and embarrassment as the pair of crooks snickered like goddamn teenagers.
“Argh! Why you little—I’ll get you for that!” Proceeding to give chase, Zenigata’s jaw clenched as he let out a low growl. He was not looking forward to running through the tunnels filled with bobby traps that seemingly had no trigger whatsoever. “Get back here! Crap! Crap! Crap!”
Due to his years chasing after Lupin, Zenigata has, of course, traversed through his fair share of old temples and ruins from dozens of different ancient civilizations. Often, those ruins had tripwires and pitfalls aplenty, but the whole point about traps was that one had to set them off first before they tried to kill you. Now, Zenigata will be the first to admit he’s not the most graceful guy around, but as near as he could figure, he’d yet to stumble over any wires or hidden pressure plates. He would pass an already triggered trap, and be halfway through the next area, when something would suddenly spring on him without warning. Hell, he’d almost been sliced to ribbons after a series of rusty poleaxes fell on him when he was nearly out of the trap’s range.
As it was, Zenigata watched, a petty smile forming on his face as one of the boobytraps went off around Lupin, forcing him and Jigen to lunge to opposite sides of the tunnel to avoid a stone pillar that swung between them like a battering ram. ‘Heh, so it wasn’t just me.’ The inspector thought smugly. ‘Guess I’m not losing it after all.’
“What the hell, Lupin?!” He heard Jigen shout as the pair stumbled back into a sprint. “I thought you activated all of the traps on our way in!” Zenigata jumped onto the pillar, easily running across its length before leaping off it with a gleeful hoot as he closed in on the pair of criminals.
“I did! These traps are so old and damaged—crap, look out—they must have delayed reactions or something!”
“Haha, your arrogance has come back to bite you in the ass, Lupin!” Zenigata cackled triumphantly as he barreled into the back of his rival. The golden cup in Lupin’s hands was knocked to the ground, the contents within soaking Jigen’s suit, who cursed loudly. Lupin was quick to try and wiggle out of Zenigata’s arms, and the officer tightened his hold, only to peel back with a shrieking giggle as the crook’s fingers homed in on the ticklish spots of his sides. The cheating, monkey-faced, dirtbag. Tickling was below the belt and he knew it! Lupin sprung to his feet with his signature grin, snatching the cup as he went. Zenigata did his best to follow, ignoring the twinge that raced along his lower back. Still, it cost him a few seconds and the younger men took advantage of this, breaking ahead and leaving a sizable gap between them.
“Hey Jigen, you’re not gonna believe this,” Lupin announced as he looked over his stolen treasure. “but, uh, the cup is full again.”
“What? But you just spilled the damn thing all over me!” The gunman said while gesturing towards the sizable splash mark on his jacket.
“Well, this gives a whole new meaning to the phrase “my cup runneth over.”
“Yeah, real friggin’ cute! Damnit! I should’a realized something was up! My feet have been itching for days!”
“I keep telling ya you have athlete’s foot, Jigen! It’s a fungus, not a sixth sense for occult crap!” Lupin bit back with obvious annoyance. Sure, over the years they’ve run into some sketchy stuff, Linda comes to mind first, but she only became a “witch” thanks to the inhuman science experiments Dr. Heilein did on her. Pycal turned out to be all sleight of hand, with real gadgets to fund his bag of magic tricks. Goemon’s “ghost” during the golden pinball caper had turned out to be a quintuplet of identical sisters pulling a rather odd con. And yeah, okay, maybe he still hasn’t figured out how to explain the mystery behind Camilla and her “vampirism”, but hey, he was never one to rule out drugs.
“And yet here we here!” Jigen yelled, returning Lupin’s wandering mind to their current situation. “Face it, man, if it’s not cursed, then it’s at least bad luck!”
“Yeah, okay, you may have a point there.” Lupin grumbled grudgingly, irritated that he was likely going to walk away from this heist with nothing to show for it. His gripes were quickly dismissed though as the floor suddenly gave way from beneath their feet. Jigen was close enough to grip the ledge on the other side, but Lupin, both hands still grasping the chalice, could only swing his legs in a futile attempt to gain more momentum. As gravity started to pull him downwards, Jigen turned towards him with a stretched-out hand. ‘Too far!’ Lupin instantly realized even as he tried to reach his partner anyways. Metal latched onto his wrist and Lupin blinked at the set of handcuffs that were attached to a rope. Wide grey eyes followed the line upwards, and he gulped in relief as his fall was stopped by a grinning Zenigata.
“Haha, I gotcha this time, Lupin!” The inspector crowed in delight, his Japanese accent growing somewhat thicker the way it always did when he was really angry or overly pleased. The Gentleman Thief looked below him, legs curling up to his chest as he spotted how close his feet were to the spikes set up at the bottom of the pitfall. He grimaced at the near death before aiming a cocky smile at the ICPO officer.
“Thanks for the save, Pops!” Dumping the chalice of its contents once again, Lupin tucked it into his coat pocket, grabbed ahold of the rope with both hands and braced his feet against the wall. Zenigata blinked at him in bemusement and Lupin winked before pushing off the wall, leaping to the other side where Jigen was quick to pull him up. Lupin turned to taunt his rival, his expression quickly falling as realized that Pops, of course, wasn’t going to give up that easily. The handcuff still around his wrist jerked hard, threatening to pull him back into the pit as Zenigata swung himself over to them the same as Lupin had. “Ouch! Shit, Pops! Warn a guy, would ya?” Jigen grabbed the back of Lupin’s coat, grounding him, and Zenigata chuckled as he pulled himself upwards. Lupin made a show of working on the cuffs while keeping an eye on the old timer's progress. He "broke free" just as soon as Pops got a leg over the ledge and then they started booking it once again.
The chase continued, and while there were no more close calls, the trio still ran into a number of delayed traps or had to work their way around ones that had previously been set off by Lupin and Zenigata respectively. Near the end, a trap with arrows caught the tail end of Lupin’s coat. He wasn’t pinned to the wall, rather it tore along the seam of his pocket where the chalice promptly fell out, unbeknownst to the Gentleman Thief. Zenigata, who was busy dodging his own turn at impalement, let out a squeal as cold water drenched his face before the cup bonked him right on the nose. The cop spared the item a quick glance before stuffing it into his trench coat.
Zenigata grinned as a light appeared, signifying that they had finally reached the entrance. He saw Lupin and Jigen nearly fall over themselves as they came to an abrupt stop and the inspector laughed through his grinning teeth.
“Ha, how do like that Lupin!” The man jeered, falling into a lazy gait as he came up behind the two and slapped a pair of handcuffs on both men, who gawked at the encircling line of officers with their guns drawn. “The police in this area are used to tombaroli helping themselves to lost treasures and artworks of Pompeii.” He kicked lightly at the gear Lupin had, a pair of shovels and some other mining equipment that they had left at the entrance. "A whole squadron of men volunteered to help take you as soon as I mentioned your name."
“Nobody likes a bragger, Pops.” Lupin grumbled sourly and Zenigata grinned at the younger man.
“Oh, and by the way, you dropped this. Rookie-move, Lupin, I expected better from you.” Snickering, the officer pulled out the golden cup, enjoying the look of disbelief that took over the thief’s face as he shot a betrayed look towards his coat. “Huh? That’s strange. I could’ve sworn this thing was empty?” Lupin and Jigen shared uneasy looks as Zenigata shrugged. “Now, you two, onto the boat. I've taken the liberty of reserving your rooms at Hotel Prison! You don't have to thank me for taking care of you, that's just the kind of guy I am. Haha!” He pushed them towards the smaller boat that he'd docked by the island, where they proceeded to grumble and bitch at each other, much to the inspector’s amusement.
It wasn’t often that Zenigata got to actually enjoy seeing Lupin in handcuffs. The handsy bastard was usually pretty quick to slip his way out of them, either by dislocating his thumb and pinky or by picking the locks. Zenigata settled at the back of the boat to man the motor, smiling at Lupin and Jigen who sulked in front of him. Giddy, he let out another laugh as the motor roared to life and they started moving. The Rock of Rovigliano was only 200 meters from shore, so the trip was going to be short, which honestly worked in Zenigata’s favor. Lupin had a habit of diving into open water to make his great escapes, but being so close to land where even more reinforcements were waiting was a clear deterrent to the thief, who had already shot the water a considering glance before sighing in defeat. Zenigata caught this little action and snickered as Lupin stuck his tongue out at him childishly.
Retrieving the cup that he’d set safely behind him, away from Lupin’s eyes and hands, he gave it another look over. Lupin hadn’t left a card about this one—there were no guards or modern-day security measures to work around—and he'd always considered undiscovered treasure to be free game. As such, the ICPO officer didn’t know anything about the item in question, but the fact that it was probably made from solid gold was reason enough to catch the Gentleman Thief’s eye.
“You know, since I'm finally brining you guys in, I think this deserves a toast, don’t you?” Lupin, who’d been glaring off to the side, jerked forwards as Zenigata raised the cup to his mouth.
“Pops, don't!”
Too late did Zenigata hear the genuine warning in Lupin’s tone. He swallowed less than a mouthful, but whatever he drank tasted as sweet as honey. It slipped down his throat, cool and refreshing, before turning oddly warm as it reached his belly. The warmth spread outwards, filling his fingers and toes, the sensation getting hotter and hotter until it started to burn. Curling in on himself, Zenigata watched with watering eyes as the cup hit the bottom of the boat, rolling to a stop against Lupin’s shoe.
It was glowing.
“Pops, are you okay? Pops?! Speak to me! Zenigata!” He was aware that Lupin and Jigen were free of their handcuffs, and while that would normally infuriate him, he couldn’t muster up a word as he struggled to breathe through the vice clenching around his chest and the sudden stabbing pain in his head. Had… had he just poisoned himself? Was he going to die?
“Lu…” He weakly grasped at his rival’s sleeve, vision blurring until it faded to black, unable to hear Lupin’s voice even as his mouth kept moving. And with that, Inspector Koichi Zenigata passed out in the arms of the thief he dedicated his life to capturing. Lupin shot a worried look at Jigen, who had taken over the motor and was now steering them away from the pursuing police.
“What the hell just happened?” The gunman asked and Lupin lowered the officer gently to the boat’s floor, glaring accusingly at the Chalice of Janus.
“The cup is glowing.” Lupin stated as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and retrieved the cursed object. He held it aloft, where the faint white glow visibly began to fade, but Jigen’s low cursing revealed that the marksman had seen its freaky lightshow for himself. “You were right, Jigen. I should’ve just left this damn thing down there.”
“What do we do now, boss?” Lupin was quiet for a moment as he stared at the chalice. It surprisingly did not refill as it had before, maybe because it had already inflicted whatever curse it had onto Zenigata. Carefully folding the handkerchief around the chalice, Lupin tucked it within his other pocket and looked over Zenigata again, only to see that a flush had worked its way over his cheeks. He reached down and let out a hiss as he pulled his hand back. The old man was burning up. “Lupin?”
“We take him back to the hotel. I need to dig up more information on the chalice.”
Consciousness came slowly, hovering too long in the state where one finds themself on the cusp of waking or falling back asleep. She could hear a noise, the soft tinkering of something nearby, as well as a metal whine that kept repeating itself every few seconds. There was the sound of breathing, her own at first, and then another’s as they let out a haggard sounding sigh. She peeled her eyelids back, squinting at the light overhead where a ceiling fan rotated idly and turned out to be the source of the squeaking noise. Somebody needed to take some WD-40 to the old thing.
It took her another moment to remember that she didn’t know any rooms, be it in her own home or in a friend's, that had a ceiling fan. She moved to sit up and her eyes quickly locked onto a man sitting on the floor in front of a coffee table sprawled with open books. The man was deeply focused on whatever he was reading, brow furrowed in concentration. He was fair skinned with dark brown hair that she nearly mistook for black. He wore a dark blue button-down shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled up to his elbows with the top couple of buttons left undone, and a pale pink tie loosely wrapped around his neck. On the armchair behind him a bright red jacket had been haphazardly thrown over the seat cushion. A soft clicking sound had her eyes jumping to her right and she immediately froze upon spotting another man, dressed in a dark suit, a fedora on his head, and a gun in his hands.
“It looks like sleeping beauty is finally awake.” The hatted man announced, the revolving chamber to his gun snapping close. The other man jolted before turning to her, a wide grin spreading over his face. A stray thought at the back of her muddled mind pointed out that it made him look rather like a monkey.
“Pops!” The monkey man shouted as he leapt to his feet and immediately began to crowd her. “You’re okay!”
“Pops?” She repeated hoarsely. Jesus, had someone made her smoke an entire carton of cigarettes or something? She sounded like a 40-year-old man. “Who are you? Where am I?” She couldn’t help but glance nervously at the man with the fedora, his gun resting between his thighs in a loose grip as he leaned forward, presumably to get a better look at her, though she wasn’t sure how he could see anything with how his hat seemed to cover his eyes. The smile slid off the man’s face, his grey eyes widening as they darted to and fro ever so slightly, as if he were trying to take in every facet of her face.
“You don’t remember us?” He asked wanly and she fought off a scowl, still very wary of the armed man on the neighboring couch.
“I’ve never met you before in my life.” She cleared her throat and frowned as it remained deep and gravely. “What’s wrong with my voice?” She coughed into her hand, but her breathing was as clear as ever.
“…What?” This befuddled query came from the gunman while his friend’s face went expressionless.
“My throat doesn’t feel sore, so that rules out an illness, as well as overtaxing or hurting my vocal cords.” She stilled as her eyes reflexively glanced downwards. Her hand was too big and far too harry to be hers. “What the hell…” She moved to sit up, staring wide-eyed at the long legs spread out before her dressed in brown slacks. Shakily, the large hands explore the body before her, feeling firm pecks where there should’ve been supple breasts, and a thicker linear waistline where it should’ve curved into an hourglass figure. Almost too afraid to do so, she brought the hands—her hands, but not hers at all—up to where her face should’ve been. Her fingers met a strong, squared jawline with a noticeable cleft chin. Sideburns and a square nose that had probably been broken more than once judging by the crooked bridge. Large eyes with ridiculously long eyelashes framed by slightly eyebrows, and a haircut that bordered on something militaristic if not for its thickness. “What the hell…” She repeated with a heavy, terrified quiver in her tone.
She barely noticed as the monkey man stumbled backwards and dropped into the armchair, throwing an arm to cover his eyes as he let out a strained groan. The man with the fedora shifted in his seat, the gun glinting slightly as a thin trail of smoke rose from the partially crushed cigarette in his mouth.
“Somebody wanna fill me in on what’s going on?” He asked, hand moving up to adjust his hat, though it was only to tip it forwards even more. “Why does Pops apparently have friggin’ amnesia?”
“Because that’s not Pops.” The monkey man stated grimly, causing the other to jerk slightly as he swung his head to look back at her.
“Sure as hell looks like him.” The man grumbled and she swallowed hard. Yes, contrary to what she wanted to tell herself otherwise, she was very much in a man's body. In the body of “Pops” specifically, if these men were to be believed.
“Who are you?” She asked again, fighting to keep her tone even. “Where am I? Why am I…?” The monkey man partially lifted his arm to peek at her from the side of his eye, head still pitched upwards. He looked far more withdrawn than when she’d first woken up. In a dreary voice, he introduced himself.
“Lupin III.” She blinked at him hard, but he had already returned his arm to his face, the other waving in his friend’s direction. “That’s Jigen. The body you’re in belongs to Inspector Zenigata of Interpol.”
She stared for a long moment, feeling dazed, and wondered if she was going to faint. If she did, would she wake up back in her own home, her own body—her own reality?
Arsène Lupin III. The international thief. The goddamn protagonist of a manga-anime that has existed for over 50 years. She would’ve pinned everything to a very intense dream, but… but she made her fingers, longer and thicker than her own, trace the calluses and scars she found on wide palms. Some things she recognized and would’ve been at home on her own hands. The callouses from someone well used to work with their hands, a nick or two on the fingers from previous injuries, the gunpowder under the nails that always sunk into one’s skin and eventually merged with their natural scent.
“…Okay.” She said after a minute, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. “Why am I in Inspector Zenigata’s body and not my own?”
“My money would be on that damn thing.” The hatted man, Daisuke Jigen, growled as gestured to a golden cup at the edge of the coffee table which she hadn’t noticed earlier. “Friggin’ cup is cursed.”
“It’s called the Chalice of Janus.” Lupin stated as he finally straightened in his seat, leaning forwards with his arms braced against his widespread legs to study her. She met his analytical gaze with a dull expression, feeling too unbalanced to offer anything more solid. He looked like he did in the cartoon, although it wasn't a one-for-one ratio. The man before her was made from flesh and bone rather than ink and paper.
“Named for the Roman God, I take it?” She questioned and the corner of his lip ticked upwards for a brief moment.
“Well, look who paid attention during high school.” Lupin nodded, his voice still lacking its earlier friendliness. “Janus is the god of beginnings, gates, transitions, time, duality, doorways, passages, and endings. He's usually depicted as having two faces and is considered a force of chaos.”
“Well, I suppose body swapping counts as a form of transition. Pretty friggin' chaotic too.” Jigen commented sarcastically. The possibility that Zenigata was now in her body hadn't crossed her mind until that moment and she paled at the implications. What would the man do when he was confronted with the reality that his life was little more than fiction in her world?
“I’m not so sure they switched bodies.” Lupin remarked, temporarily putting a stop to her building panic. “From what I’ve read, it’s more than likely that they’re both inside Zenigata.”
“So what? Is the old guy just taking a nap or something?” Lupin made a thoughtful expression before abruptly grinning.
“Hey, Pops! I’m about to steal some priceless crap!”
“LUPIN!” The shout was abrupt, unexpected, and she suddenly felt as if she was being jerked backwards. She watched, numbly, as her vision jolted. Legs moved without her input while hands snatched Lupin out of his seat. She could feel the fabric curling under fingers, feel the muscles in Zenigata's body tense as his chest puffed outwards and his shoulders straightened. “You’re not stealing anything as long as I’m around! I–” The mouth that had been moving on its own, words spoken that she had no privy to, came to a stop. She felt a wave of confusion overtaking righteous indignation—not her feelings, not her body, not her—knowing that whatever she was sensing was coming entirely from Zenigata.
She’d never had a dissociative episode before, but she imagined it couldn’t be all that different from what she was currently experiencing. There was a disconnect, not from the senses themselves, but from the sense of control. It was like the phenomenon you get when you’re suddenly overly aware of your own breathing or how often you blink. Or perhaps what she was feeling was the opposite of that. The voluntary suddenly becoming involuntary.
“How did I get here?” Zenigata asked as he peered around the room. From his eyes, she could see Jigen’s mouth slowly shut from where it had dropped open. He pulled a partially crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket and stuffed one in his mouth before lighting it. “The last thing I remember was… Ah! The cup!” ‘That’s right! I drank from it and then it was glowing, and my body felt like it was burning!’
“…Why would you drink from it in the first place?” She asked blankly, shuddering a little as his mouth failed to even twitch in response to her thoughtless reply.
“Huh? Who's there?” She watched as Zenigata swung his head back and forth. “Who said that?” Lupin gave a little chuckle, immediately reclaiming the inspector’s attention. “Lupin! I’ve got you this time you little weasel!” He lowered one arm, reaching for something along his chest, only to frown in confusion. “Hey, where’s my coat?”
“Over on the coatrack, Pops. Same as your hat. And your shoes are by the door.” The self-proclaimed thief revealed as he pointedly stuck his nose into the air and gave an exaggerated, offended sniff. “We’re thieves, not animals.”
“Oh, right. Thank you for taking care of me—Hey, wait a damn minute!” Zenigata shouted as his hold around Lupin’s collar tightened, and the thief let out a small choking noise. “The hell am I thanking you for, huh? And why am I here in the first place?”
“Why not ask the little voice in your head?” Lupin rasped.
“Is that supposed to be a dig at my conscience?” The inspector demanded while giving his rival a brief, but vigorous shake. “You’re the one who should listen to it more. You amoral little creep!”
“I believe he was referring to me, Inspector Zenigata.” She said once again, actively trying to make the man’s mouth move, only to be met with some sort of resistance.
“Who is that?” Zenigata asked as he dropped Lupin and whirled around the room. “You got someone else here, Lupin? Is Goemon hiding somewhere?”
“Nope! It's just us.” The thief replied as he braced his hands against his back as if working out a kink in his spine. “Goemon wasn’t in the room when we got back here a couple hours ago. No idea where he is, but my guess is that he went looking for some good old Japanese cuisine.”
“Best of friggin’ luck.” Jigen muttered. “It’s nothing but Mediterranean dishes in this area.”
“Then… then who am I hearing?” Zenigata asked a bit timidly, his shoulders hunching up to his ears as his eyes darted back and forth. The feeling of nervousness brushed up against her, prickly and uncomfortably, like someone dragging a comb’s bristles just a little too hard against her bare skin.
“You’re the one who drank from a cursed chalice.” She snapped, irritated at the constant brush of emotions, while also being left with no way to express herself in return. The rattled nerves turned icy, like submerging oneself into an ice bath, where the water was so cold it felt like you were being stabbed all over.
“Lupin.” Zenigata practically whimpered, eyes growing surprisingly wet. “Is, i-is it a… a g-ghost? Am I b-being h-haunted?” Lupin couldn’t have looked more amused in that moment. She did not share his humor.
“I’m not dead. Last thing I remember is going to sleep, then I’m waking up to Tweedledee and Tweedledumb hovering over me, stuffed inside your body without so much as a by-your-leave.” She ignored how the man let out a girlish shriek as he all but jumped into Lupin’s arms in a move reminiscent from the old Scooby-Doo cartoon show. “Now, please ask Lupin how to break this curse so that I can return to my own body.”
“So, what did your new roommate have to say?” Lupin asked as he dropped Zenigata on the floor who let out a flat “ow” in complaint. The burglar frowned. “Come to think of it I never caught their name.”
“That’s because I didn’t throw it.” She snarked back instinctively, only to pause as she realized that her words actually left Zenigata’s mouth this time. She pushed yourself up onto her elbows in surprise. “How am I talking now? I couldn’t after Zenigata woke up.”
“Crap! Crap! Crap! What the hell is this!?” The man in question shouted, his voice carrying a small echo to it. If nerves and fear had been unpleasant before, the panic she felt now was akin to bleach eating away at one's skin, leaving her feeling oddly raw. Abruptly, she felt that jerking sensation from before, and was only partly surprised when Zenigata regained his body. “Why the hell can’t I—Oh! I’m back in control!” The inspector leapt to his feet, giving himself a quick pat down for some reason, perhaps checking to see if anything felt off. From the side of Zenigata’s eye, she could just make out a look of consternation on Jigen’s face. “Whoever you are, don’t take over my body again, alright? Stealing is a federal offense!”
“Oh, yeah? And how’re you gonna stop them?” Lupin asked smartly. “By arresting yourself?” Zenigata went to retaliate only to shut his mouth as he realized the thief had a point. Slumping his large frame, a feeling of tired resignation swelled over her, as clingy as static and far too draining.
“The situation will become moot upon breaking the curse.” She pointed out irritably and Zenigata perked up.
“Hey, that’s right! We just gotta get rid of this curse thingy and everything will go back to normal!” Both she and the inspector spotted the slight flinch Lupin gave and neither were reassured by it. “There is a way to break this curse, right Lupin?”
“Uh, y'see, about that–”
“Ah, hell.” Jigen muttered. “It’s always friggin' something.”
“So, there’s no way to break the curse from what I’ve found, but–” Here, the thief’s sheepish tone grew louder, cheerier. It grated on her dwindling patience. “But it only lasts for one year. All you need to do is not drink from the Chalice of Janus again and the curse will end on its own!” Zenigata’s body unexpectedly staggered for a second, his eyes fluttering rapidly, before knees locked into place once more.
“…I’ll be stuck like this for a year?” She whispered, oblivious that she had taken control once more.
“Uh, yeah.” Lupin answered with a wince, quickly dropping the peppy façade. “Sorry, Pops.”
“I’m not Zenigata.” She replied automatically. In fact, she felt nothing from the man. She, well, she did her best to reach out, mentally at least, and brushed against something that felt both withdrawn and unaware. “I think he fainted.”
“Oh.” She missed Lupin and Jigen sharing a look as she retreated to the couch she’d woken up on. She wanted to throw herself onto it, perhaps bury her face into the slightly worn fabric and scream until there was no air left in her lungs. Instead, she laid down and turned her back to the two men that she'd previously known to be fictional characters. “Arara? What are you doing?”
“Going to sleep. Hopefully, I’ll wake up in my own body and this will have just an awful fever dream.” From nearby, Jigen let out a scoff.
“Can’t tell ya how many times I wished that would happen. But hey, maybe you’ll have better luck than me. Godspeed, pal.”