Disclaimer: Lupin and his gang belong to Monkey Punch. No copyright infringement intended. I'm just taking them out to play and promise to give them back in one piece :-)

- 1 -

His nose twitched.

Goemon had been sitting for hours, immersed in deep meditation. He relished the quiet of this temple, its incense-filled air and dimmed lights. Stillness seemed to ripple from the walls, running through his body and soul to the very core of his being. He watched as his breath came and went, noticed with indifference the slight burning sensation in his back muscles, which were a little strained from not moving for such a long time. Every once in a while a visitor would enter, but their echoing steps never managed to disturb the calm of his mind.

However, he recently found that something bothered him. His nose twitched again.

He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something strange about the air, a subtle change. It was as if there was a scratchy residue, like a bitter taste on your tongue after finishing a cup of tea. His brows narrowed as his attention shifted to the sensation. And then he recognized the smell. Something was burning.

Goemon's eyes snapped open, fingers curling around his katana. He was on his feet in a split second. Turning around, he noticed the fine chisel of smoke protruding from the small windows to his right. It was then that the door flew open and three men in identical ninja clothes strode in, blocking his way out.

Goemon stared at the intruders, grip tightening around his weapon. He didn't recognize any of them, their faces hidden behind masks. Their drawn swords gleamed in the dim light. For a brief moment he wondered if they had been sent by an enemy of his, or if this attack was about something entirely different. Then he let go of the thought. It was unwise to ponder upon the motives of an attacker as long as the fight was not over.

He adjusted his stance slightly, rooting himself firmly against the ground. The ninjas circled him and moved into position. They rushed to an attack at the same time.

Goemon countered the first stroke with ease, his weapon cutting through his enemy's sword like butter. The man gasped in surprise and stumbled backwards, as the severed blade glistened and turned in the air. Ducking the attack of the second ninja, Goemon spun around and Zantetsu cut effortlessly through the man's thighs. The strike of his third opponent missed him by inches and Goemon stepped aside, repositioning himself.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed that one of his opponents was lying on the floor, incapacitated, while another bent down to pick up the injured man's sword. Funny how these people never knew when to stop. One would think that once they saw what Zantestuken was capable of, they would retreat as soon as they could. Yet his attackers came at him again.

Their technique was flawed, the opening in their defense obvious. Goemon let them come and struck them down in mid-movement, effectively cutting through both of them in one strike. They didn't even have time to scream. Dispassionately, he shook off the remaining blood from his blade before sheathing his sword again. Their heads hit the floor with a thud.

Goemon stopped to let his eyes wander about the place, only to confirm what he already knew – there were no more enemies here. The only sound was a sudden clamor of voices from outside and the dangerous crackle of a fire nearby. He turned to leave, not deigning to look at the bodies.

The moment he stepped outside, Goemon realized where the smell had come from – the Shinto shrine was burning. The stench of gasoline and fire accelerant lingered in the air like smog over a city. Flames painted the night sky eerily red. A few steps and he joined two women in the courtyard, who were clearly upset. One of them, a young woman in plain clothes, pointed toward the wall that surrounded the complex. Goemon wasn't sure, but he thought that he could make out one or two figures on the wall and his grip tightened on the hilt of his sword.

"They put the shrine on fire," she exclaimed.

Goemon nodded in acknowledgement of the information. He felt the overwhelming urge of hunting every one of those unworthy ninja bastards down. However, he first needed to know if everybody was safe.

"Somebody still inside?" he queried. "Where's kannushi-sama?" (1)

The old priest was nowhere to be seen, and Goemon felt himself tense in apprehension.

The women exchanged a glance.

"Kannushi-sama followed one of the intruders inside. He hasn't come out yet."

"Where?" Goemon snapped impatiently.

The woman gestured toward the main building and the samurai headed towards it in an instant. While he ran, he heard her call behind him.

"I'll call the fire department!"

Do that, he thought grimly, but he didn't waste a breath telling her that. He didn't blame her for not running into the burning building, but why she had waited until now to make that phone call was a mystery to him. The flames licked over the door already and Goemon had to kick it in to get inside. He hesitated a moment, then pulled his jacket over his mouth and nose and entered.

He could barely see through the thick smoke that engulfed him at once. The heat blistered his face and stung in his eyes as he pushed his way across the hallway. There was no trace of the priest or the man that he had followed inside.

"Kannushi-sama!"

No answer. Vaguely, he could discern a doorway before him and stepped into the adjacent room. With dismay he noticed how far the fire had already spread. Flames licked across the walls and the ceiling, eating away on the sparse furniture. Something shattered to his right, and Goemon felt a gust of wind blow through the smoke-filled room. The fire flared up.

"Kannushi-sama, can you hear me?"

There was something before him, a dark shape on the floor and Gomeon bent down, instantly recognizing the wrinkled face of the priest. There was a ripple of blood trickling down the man's forehead and he was apparently unconscious.

When Goemon moved to gently collect the light form into his arms, the priest's head lolled to the side and his eyes fluttered. For a moment, Goemon thought that they would open. However, the priest just coughed weakly and lost consciousness again.

"Damn," he cursed under his breath.

Goemon had to suppress a cough of his own, as he proceeded to lift the man off the ground. Smoke stung in his airways, bringing tears to his eyes. It was then that he noticed the man crouching on the windowsill.

It was clearly one of the intruders who had set the temple on fire. However, the silver embroidery on his gloves and the ornamented hilt of his sword distinguished him from the ninja Goemon had encountered before. They exchanged a glance and Goemon saw the other man's face twitch beneath the mask. Something golden gleamed in his hand and then the man was gone.

Instantly recognizing the window as the easiest way out, Goemon headed towards it. The priest didn't weigh as much as expected, but it was difficult to maneuver through the burning room as broken furniture blocked his path. More than once he stumbled, his foot caught by objects invisible in the thickening smoke. He had barely made it half the way, when a sudden crack from above prompted him to jump back. The roof beam came down with a rumble, sparks spraying, landing directly in front of his feet.

So much for his exit. Heart pounding, he turned around, just to find the room completely vanished in a sea of smoke. Carefully he moved forward, light-headed from the lack of oxygen, vision blurred. He looked for a black rectangle in the fog, the door through which he had entered, and he expected it to appear any moment before him. But all he found was a wall of fire.

It was easy to lose one's way in a fire, and Goemon realized with a pang of fear that he indeed had lost orientation.

However, there was no thing in this world that Zantetsuken could not cut, and the wall would not be the exception. With a movement that had become a reflex from countless hours of training, he pulled his sword from its sheath and sliced through the burning wall before him. The flames dropped to the floor, as the black passage opened before him and cold night wind washed over his face.

Goemon staggered outside, lungs burning, the earth tilting beneath his feet. He held the priest close to his chest and managed a couple more steps before dropping to his knees. Carefully, he lowered the old man to the ground, eyes fixed on the unmoving face before him. Please, don't let him be dead, he thought.

The sound of footsteps penetrated his foggy mind, and Goemon realized that it was the two women he had met before. They gathered around him but kept their distance. Whether they were too shy or too shocked, he did not know.

"What happened to him?" The younger woman addressed him. "Is he alright?"

"I don't know."

Goemon searched for a pulse and found it, weakly, but it was there.

"Have you called an ambulance?" he asked.

She nodded. "I have. They'll be here. I'm so glad that you were there. If you hadn't gone after him, he would have died."

"Goemon..."

It was a mere whisper, but he was sure that he had heard it. Goemon held his breath, looking intently into the still face. Then the pair of gray eyebrows drew together and his eyes slid open. Goemon felt as if a weight had been lifted from his heart.

"I'm here," he replied quietly.

Goemon felt the old man's hand close around his wrist, watched him struggle to form the words.

"Go-shintai..." (2)

Goemon frowned, trying to figure out what the priest was trying to say.

"Kannushi-sama," he addressed him formally, gently taking the man's hand into his own. "The shrine is burning. I'm afraid, the go-shintai has fallen prey to the flames."

The priest shook his head, eyes fixed on the samurai who knelt beside him.

"Stolen..." His voice was hoarse, brittle like a leaf in winter. Goemon could see the pain his eyes. "They stole it."

Before his mind's eye, Goemon saw the man on the windowsill, his face masked. A gloved hand closed around something golden.

"Do you know who took it?"

The priest shook his head, a frail movement, almost imperceptible. Suddenly the grip around Goemon's hand became hard.

"Find him," the old man whispered. "Promise me."

Goemon held his gaze, worried as he noticed the old man's sudden struggle to breathe. A shudder went through the light frame of his body and from one moment to the other, the hand Goemon held became limp. He watched as the dark eyes slid close and the man once more slipped into unconsciousness.

The samurai lowered his head, his heart filled with anger and grief as he realized the extent of the damage that had been done. The shrine desecrated. Kannushi-sama gravely injured, possibly dying. It was the honorable thing to accept the man's request.

"I will find him," he said solemnly. "I will bring him to justice and retrieve the go-shintai he has taken. You have my word."

oooooooooooooooo

(1) kannushi – literally: god master; the priest of a Shinto shrine

(2) go-shintai – literally: body of the kami; physical object worshiped at a Shinto shrine as repository in which a spirit or kami resides