Sashiko: The Darkest Timeline

[specialguestvillains]

Jigen's right arm ached, and that meant the weather was about to go sour.

Granted, it always ached, but it was aching in a very specific way right now, and also it was January in Paris so the weather was going to get fucked eventually. Everyone gave charitably around Christmas, but as soon as it flipped around to January 2 all that goodwill towards men dried up and the weather was even colder than before.

Jigen took up his usual position near the cafe and watched the patrons stroll by, eying them up to see who looked like a big spender. Men with dates sometimes liked to impress their girls, as did bachelorette parties. People on the way back from soccer matches were charitable, but only if their team won, and if they hadn't they had the risk of being mean drunks. Sometimes they'd be mean drunks anyway.

Okay, guy in a blue blazer, looked like a tourist from the back.

"Hey, buddy. Spare some change?" he mumbled, the phrase coming more naturally than most of his French. He said it enough these days for it to be nearly rote. The man turned and Jigen found himself unable to look the man in the face. Something about his pose said horror, maybe even disgust. He didn't have the energy to deal with that bullshit today.

"Don't worry about it," he said before the tourist could even speak, and turned around to trod off again. The battered hat he'd been using as a money bucket went back on his head. Behind him, he heard the man slowly back away. By the time Jigen looked at him again, the man in blue had run off into the crowd.

Comments

[specialguestvillains]

It was hard to miss, given it was the only thing here that seemed well-attended but untouched. His own home had something similar when he'd been growing up...probably the entire place had been torn down by now, shrine and all, if it hadn't burned to the ground. Jigen ran a finger over one of the ribbons, until his shaking right hand dropped down to his side again.

"This your son?" he called to the man in the other room.

[artoflaw]

Another deep breath: "Yes, that's Oscar."

Poor, lost lamb Oscar. Zenigata doesn't stop what he's doing, he just continued the rote motion of dishes.

"You have family in France?"

[specialguestvillains]

"No." Jigen's right hand slid back into his pocket. Things were starting to come together. "What about you? Or is it just your job keeping you here."

Because that kid didn't look much like Zenigata...but that was a cop uniform. Quite a few photos of cops here, actually.

[artoflaw]

"Work. Nothing much at home. Divorced, daughter is all grown up and we don't have much of a chance relationship." Zenigata lists facts like they're from a case list. Just the facts, nothing but the facts.

There are a lot of cops on that shrine. You could call it a family business.

[specialguestvillains]

There it was. He wasn't sure what 'it' was, but he was definitely sure he was starting to see the edges of it.

Jigen paced slower now, tracing the lines of the apartment, looking for hidden weaponry and paperwork. "She a cop too?" he asked, casually.

[artoflaw]

That got laughter, real and surprised.

"Oh, no no no. Toshiko? Never. Never in a million years." He shook his head, smiling despite the sting. "The Zenigata family tradition in law enforcement ends with me. We're, ah, kind of famous in Chiyoda City."

He gestures to the sparse art on his walls. "My daughter paints."

[specialguestvillains]

Well, that did confirm it. Not just a cop, but a cop in a family of cops. "So what'a a Japanese cop doing in Paris?" he said, strolling back until he was leaning on the entryway to the kitchen.

[artoflaw]

"Wasting his time on a punishment detail. I came out originally to work with the ICPO to apprehend Fujiko Mine. Now that she's working closely with Ishikawa, he's my problem too."

The dishes done, he dries his hands and then finished off his beer. "I would much rather be home, but here I am."

[specialguestvillains]

The names picked at his memory, in ways that Jigen couldn't quite fathom. Maybe they were in the business too? Maybe he'd worked with them....who the fuck knew.

"And where's home?" he asked, still slouched.

[artoflaw]

"Chiyoda City. Part of the Tokyo sprawl. Nice place, really quiet. Mostly office high rises and upper middle class homes." A place where he didn't stand out, a place where all his food was the right price, a place where everyone spoke the same goddamn language he did, a place. "Kanda-Myojin's the family beat. A little temple. My illustreous ancestor, Zenigata Heiji, is a kami there now. I was supposed to be the seventh of his name, but..."

He shrugged. He'd made that choice a long time ago. There didn't need to be yet another Zenigata Heiji. Zenigata Koichi had it hard enough living up to the family name without keeping that one going.