The walls were collapsing around them. The ground cracked, and massive stones crashed down at their feet, threatening to bring the entire ceiling down with them. A deep rumble echoed from the depths—the ancient mechanisms clearly didn't appreciate the ruby being removed from its resting place.

A few of Zorin's henchmen had valiantly stayed behind to slow them down, but they were no match for Goemon and Jigen. Their fight was cut short when a massive stone plunged from the ceiling, crushing one of the henchmen right in front of Goemon before he even had the chance to draw his sword. Jigen cursed under his breath as the situation spiraled out of control.

The brief skirmish had cost them precious seconds, and it was enough for Zorin and Fujiko to vanish. When they finally escaped the fray and sprinted through the maze of ruins, their adversaries had long since disappeared.

Goemon led the charge, weaving effortlessly between the falling debris and the traps that were triggered along the path. Lupin was close behind, while Jigen brought up the rear. Close behind them was the deafening crash of stones tumbling down, steadily reducing the corridor to a field of rubble.

The tremors intensified, and the ruins seemed to go completely berserk. Every trap they had carefully avoided on the way in was now activating simultaneously.

Pits opened beneath their feet, arrows shot out from unseen crevices, and enormous spikes erupted from the walls. It was a mad dash against time to escape before the entire structure crumbled. The adrenaline coursing through their veins was familiar—it wasn't the first time they'd had to flee a collapsing deathtrap. But no amount of experience could make this moment feel any less perilous.

As they fled, a wall of spikes shot out to Jigen's left, tearing through his jacket. He jumped in surprise, his mind racing with uncertainty, but he didn't have time to process what had happened. Another wall of spikes appeared directly in front of him, forcing him to dodge again. And then another—this time ahead of him once more.

That's when Jigen realized that his team was in danger.

Every trap they'd passed had been triggered by Goemon at the front, but this one had been set off from behind. He'd only avoided it by luck, but neither Goemon nor Lupin knew it was coming.

Goemon, running close to the corridor's right wall, was already clear of danger. But Lupin…

Lupin wasn't going to make it.

Jigen's heart skipped a beat as the horrifying realization hit him. Lupin wouldn't have the time to react. Even a warning wouldn't be enough. The next set of spikes would impale him.

"LUPIN!"

Without a second thought, Jigen surged forward with everything he had and threw himself into a reckless dive.

Lupin was just starting to turn at the sound of his name when he was yanked violently to the side. In a desperate move, Jigen had launched him across the corridor, out of harm's way. Lupin slammed into the opposite wall with a painful thud, unable to stop his momentum.

The force of the momentum flung Jigen into Lupin's place, and he took the brunt of the trap straight to the chest.

The sharp spikes pierced through his side and thigh, sending searing waves of pain coursing through his body. The impact stopped him brutally, pinning him in place. The blow was so overwhelming that all he could manage was a muffled gasp.

The pain was excruciating. The spike had skewered him completely, and Jigen's mind went blank. Everything—the ruins, the escape, the medallion, Napoleon— everything faded into oblivion. Only one thought echoed endlessly in his fractured mind: "Is Lupin okay?" But he couldn't even summon the strength to turn his head and check.

Lupin, still reeling from the sudden shove, spun around, his eyes widening in horror. He saw it all in gut-wrenching slow motion—the panicked look in Jigen's eyes as he turned to confirm Lupin's safety. Then, in an instant, two metal spikes were protruding from Jigen's chest and leg.

"JIGEN! NO!" Lupin's voice cracked, the scream tearing through the chaos of the collapsing ruins.

Jigen didn't respond. The noise around him felt warped and distant. Even if he had heard the voice, he wouldn't have been able to match it to a face.

Warm liquid filled his mouth, and suddenly, his legs gave out beneath him. He slumped against the wall, held upright only by the spikes pinning him there. The agony was overwhelming, yet he stubbornly clung to consciousness, though not knowing why.

Lupin scrambled to his partner's side in an instant, his shock finally giving way to a frantic determination.

"Jigen, hold on!" Lupin's voice was choked with worry.

But Jigen couldn't hear him. His thoughts were unraveling. He could faintly recognize that the childlike spark dancing in front of his eyes was the most important thing on earth, and that he needed to stay awake to protect it. He'd done a good job so far…

The samurai's shriek cut through the chaos, and with a single stroke, the spikes holding Jigen to the wall were severed. The gunman collapsed into Lupin's arms.

Lupin's hands trembled as he tried to support Jigen without worsening his injuries. He had seen his partner hurt before, but never like this—never to the point where Jigen was staring at him, unable to speak or even mumble. Lupin's heart wrenched as his eyes caught the jagged spikes protruding through Jigen's coat, their cruel path marking where they'd pierced through.

The ground gave a violent tremor, shaking them back to reality as the passage behind them caved in. Despite the panic coursing through him, Lupin steeled himself. With Goemon's help, they began moving, half-carrying their injured partner.

Thankfully, the exit wasn't far, and though Jigen managed to walk, each step was a fresh torment for his chest and injured leg. Lupin and Goemon's steady hands supported him. Deep down, something was yelling that they should have left him and saved themselves, but he was too tired to care anymore.

Lupin shouted something, and Goemon darted ahead. The loss of his support hit Jigen harder than he cared to admit. They managed to cross the last archway just in time. The ruins collapsed entirely, disappearing into a cloud of dust, and the deafening roar of crumbling stone filled the air as the ground sank.

The sunlight blinded him as they emerged, and Jigen stumbled over a root. Something placed back onto his head, and the sun was suddenly not a problem anymore. Lupin's hands clung to him desperately, as if it were Lupin who was injured.

"Hang on, Jigen."

Goemon appeared moments later with the 4x4, pulling up fast. Together, they hoisted Jigen into the vehicle and laid him across the backseat. His vision was growing hazier, a dark blot spreading, obscuring his view of the red on Lupin's jacket.

No, that wasn't it. The red wasn't Lupin's jacket.

Lupin leapt into the driver's seat, frustrated at having to leave Jigen in Goemon's care but knowing full well their roles couldn't be swapped. The samurai would be far better at tending to Jigen's wounds, and Lupin was their best shot at getting them out of there quickly.

Lupin floored the accelerator. The engine roared, and the vehicle jolted over the uneven terrain, tossing the passengers inside and sending gadgets flying in all directions. Goemon did his best to stabilize Jigen and tend to his wounds despite the relentless shaking caused by Lupin's reckless driving.

There was a first-aid kit in the 4x4—they always had one close by. Goemon quickly got to work. He removed the spikes one by one, using a strip of cloth to apply pressure to the wounds and fashioning a tourniquet with some rope Lupin had originally brought for an entirely unrelated purpose. The gunman was barely conscious now, a grimace of pain frozen on his face. He couldn't quite place where he was, but he recognized the hands tending to him—calm, precise, and steady. He did his best to stay still.

"You will pull through, Jigen," murmured the samurai, his focus unwavering.

A sound broke through the chaos—the distant whir of rotor blades. In the sky above, a helicopter retreated into the horizon.

Jigen's hazy mind caught on an odd thought: demons don't usually fly away. But before he could dwell on it, exhaustion began to overwhelm him.

As the 4x4 tore through the forest at breakneck speed, Jigen felt himself grow heavy with fatigue. He knew Lupin and Goemon were there, and the comforting presence of his friends, combined with the blood loss and the vehicle's bouncing rhythm, lulled him into a daze.

They had narrowly escaped the ruins, and though Fujiko had slipped away with the prize, what mattered most was that Lupin was safe.

.

Jigen woke up to a sharp spike of pain in his side. He didn't open his eyes immediately, waiting instead for his mind to clear. He groaned as the pain forced him to shift. He managed to press a hand to his side, only for the ache to flare up even more. His flank was on fire, and his leg was numb.

There were hurried footsteps, and Lupin's voice rang out around him.

"Jigen, buddy, there you are." There was relief in his tone, but Jigen was still too groggy to grasp why. "My hero is back among the living."

Jigen cracked his eyes open. At first, all he saw was a blurry red blob, but over time Lupin's shape came into focus. The thief was fluttering around him like a hummingbird, adjusting his pillow and helping him sit up, far too energetic for the dark void of pain that was Jigen's reality. Lupin wore a plastered-on smile that didn't quite belong.

"Lu…" Jigen murmured.

"Shush. Rest. You almost bit it, buddy," Lupin said. Behind the forced lightness, there was an odd, strangled undertone to Lupin's voice, and Jigen would have killed whoever had put it there.

Jigen groaned as he eased himself back against the headboard. His wound was excruciatingly tender, but seeing Lupin safe and healthy warmed his heart. Lupin stepped away for a moment, saying something Jigen didn't quite catch. His red jacket swished as he moved toward the makeshift kitchen at the foot of the bed. Left alone with his thoughts for a moment, Jigen took stock of his surroundings.

The room was starting to make sense. The ceiling was familiar, as was the smell of old wood and dust hanging in the air. He was lying on their bed in the cramped Milan hideout. The sunlight filtered softly through the worn curtains. His personal belongings were neatly arranged on the nightstand to his right.

Lupin returned with a glass of water and some pills. Jigen accepted them without a word. The pain from his injuries seemed to have woken up along with him. Lupin sat on the edge of the bed, close enough for Jigen to notice how unusual his demeanor was.

There was a depth to Lupin's gaze that went beyond his usual banter. It reminded Jigen of the expression he'd seen on his boss back in the ruins—an odd mix of affection, relief, and perhaps even a hint of guilt that Jigen couldn't fully decipher.

"Jigen," Lupin began, his voice unusually solemn. "I don't know if you realize just how lucky you were. I really thought I'd lost you this time."

He sounded so serious that Jigen had to turn his head away. Without his hat, he felt strangely exposed. He fought the urge to put it back on his head and pull at its brim.

"Yeah, well… Little spike like that can't stop me…" Jigen muttered.

But Lupin wasn't in the mood to joke, and nothing was going to derail this conversation.

"Promise me you'll never do that again."

Jigen felt cornered, caught between Lupin's genuine concern and his own heartbeat quickening under the weight of his boss's attention. It was rare for Lupin to show his feelings so openly. Was that also due to the message in the ruins?

Lupin joked about almost everything, but he always took these kinds of situations seriously. More than once, Jigen had found himself on the receiving end of Lupin's critical gaze after taking a bullet or two. But nothing could compare to the intensity of the look he was getting now. Not even the time they'd found Goemon bloodied and battered had felt this weighty.

"I couldn't let you take the spikes, Boss," Jigen explained. "And you know damn well if I had to do it again, I would. I can't promise you anything."

He set his empty glass on the table and reached for his hat with the arm that hurt the least. Settling it on his head, he felt comforted by its familiar weight.

Lupin said nothing, though it was clear he didn't like the answer. And Jigen thought he knew why. He was beginning to suspect that, like him, Lupin saw their little group more as a family than just a team of thieves.

Lupin ran a hand through his hair and straightened up, moving out of Jigen's line of sight.

"Seriously," Lupin finally said, his voice quieter now. "Try not to get yourself skewered next time, okay?"

"I'll do my best."

An awkward silence filled the room. Lupin paced back and forth, while Jigen kept his head low. He wasn't sure if he'd upset Lupin. Just in case, he decided to change the subject.

"Goemon?" Jigen asked.

"Goemon!" Lupin perked up as if only just now remembering the samurai's existence. He stopped his restless circling in the middle of the room. "He's out getting supplies. We'll be staying here for a while."

Shame crept up on Jigen. He'd messed up the boss's plans. Because of him, they'd be stuck lying low instead of chasing down Fujiko and the Black Dawn. He sank a little deeper into the blankets.

Speaking of Fujiko, Jigen was glad she'd never set foot in this particular hideout. It was one of the few she didn't know about—not surprising, given how humble the place was. The small, run-down apartment barely qualified as a two-room setup, with a bathroom tucked away and a bed smack in the middle of the living room. It was modest, far from the more sophisticated hideouts where Fujiko preferred to rendezvous with them.

Fujiko… Jigen couldn't stop thinking about her. Betraying them was her standard move, leaving them to deal with the chaos in her wake. Most of the time, it was all part of the game, but things rarely spiraled out of control this badly. Sure, it wasn't technically her fault that he'd ended up impaled, but on the other hand, situations like this would happen much more often if Lupin weren't such a lucky bastard.

This time was different. He'd almost died. If he hadn't protected Lupin, he might have been mourning his best friend right now. All that because Fujiko had double-crossed them again. She'd fled with the diamond, leaving them to deal with the Black Dawn's goons and a collapsing death trap.

It wasn't the first time she'd betrayed them, but he'd never felt this mix of fear and anger before. Maybe it was because this time, he'd seen the exact moment Lupin could have died—right before managing to save him at the last second. The what if images kept playing on a loop in his mind.

If he'd lost Lupin, he'd never have forgiven her.

Jigen shifted. His position was becoming uncomfortable. Lupin was at his side in an instant, adjusting his pillow and checking his bandages.

"Sorry, Boss," Jigen gritted his teeth. "Fujiko ran off with the Heart and the treasure…"

Lupin took a moment before responding. He gently lifted the brim of Jigen's hat, ensuring their eyes met.

"Fujiko may have stolen the treasure, Jigen, but she didn't steal my heart."

Lupin's eyes were a warm, tender brown, full to the brim with an inexplicable softness. There was no other explanation Jigen could come up with this time—not when Lupin was looking at him with this much… love.

Jigen turned his gaze away, letting the hat fall back over his face. He couldn't allow himself this. He didn't deserve Lupin's attention. The thief must have lost his mind if he thought Jigen was a logical match for him. He clearly wasn't. Jigen wasn't built to be loved by someone like Lupin. He was too different. A gutter rat pulled from the shadows by the hand of a god. He couldn't hope that following said god wouldn't burn his wings like it had before.

"Don't play with me, Lupin…"

Lupin didn't lose his smile. "I'd never play with you."

The thief stood, letting the silence linger in the room for a moment, as if giving Jigen the time he needed to process his words.

"Rest. You need your strength back."

He turned away, letting the quiet settle over the small apartment, leaving Jigen alone with his thoughts. Jigen tugged his hat lower, retreating from the world for a moment.

No matter how much he tried not to dwell on it, Lupin's words kept echoing in his mind. He eventually drifted into a restless sleep, haunted by the turmoil in his heart.