Chapter Text
Jigen's initial impression of Goemon was that he was a stiff, self-entitled idiot. And, to his credit, he was partially right. But as the two of them found themselves alone more and more often, he started to notice the little things in Goemon’s mannerisms- the way he absent-mindedly chewed at the end of his chopsticks if he was concentrating, how he’d tuck his hair behind his ear when he got frustrated, little things like that. Soon, he began to find him almost endearing.
One such characteristic Jigen learned about Goemon was that he was an absolutely terrible liar. The few times he had even attempted to bluff in front of Jigen his almond eyes had gone wide, and he became overcome with an awful stutter, tripping over his words until Jigen would beg him to just give it up and tell the truth. He found it strangely nice in a way, Goemon’s inability to lie. Anytime they would talk Jigen knew with full confidence that whatever came out of his partner’s mouth was the truth. The same couldn’t be said for him, of course; anytime he spoke it was a gamble whether or not what he was saying was legitimate or not. This wasn’t to say he was a bad person or anything- just that after so many years in his line of work, you had to get good at lying. But Goemon didn’t need to lie, never has. He was honest to a fault, his sense of justice running deep and resolutely. And, hell, for whatever reason, Jigen really liked that about him.
They were staying in a hotel in Naples. It was late August, with the heat of midday surrendering to the cool evening air, the silk curtains of their shared room fluttering lethargically out onto the hotel balcony. The two of them were stationed there while Lupin was between jobs, stood lookout in case he was in need of help, but the job was scheduled to last at least 3 more days, and so the pair felt quite relaxed as the Italian city pulsed with life beneath them.
Jigen was smoking on the balcony, his hat resting beside an overflowing ashtray that occupied a small glass table. He was watching Goemon through the doorway, as he sat on the bed closest to the balcony, absentmindedly running an ornate comb through his hair. Jigen enjoyed watching the teeth of the comb slip through his partner's black hair in that mesmerizing motion, the pearls set into the stained wood reflecting the colours of the evening sky. Evidently Goemon had taken notice of the gunman’s staring, as he stilled his wrist to furrow his eyebrows, glaring out at his partner on the balcony.
“What are you staring at, Jigen?” His voice came smoothly from inside the room, Jigen smirking as he flicked another cigarette butt into the ashtray nearby.
“Nice comb, it belong to your girlfriend?”
Goemon went quiet, his face and ears flushed scarlet. He turned the comb over in his hands before answering;
“It was my mother’s.”
“Oh, shit sorry man,” Jigen stood up to come inside, now feeling somewhat more sheepish than before. He slid the balcony doors shut behind him, the curtains falling lifelessly against the wall once again. Goemon was looking down at his hands, his slender fingers turning over the stained wood comb. Jigen cautiously crossed the room to sit next to him on the bed, his weight making the mattress dip where he sat. Goemon opened his mouth a couple of times, only to close it again shortly after, reconsidering what he was about to say. They stayed quiet like that for a while, until he finally broke the somewhat awkward silence.
“I’ve never had one. Ah, Uhm, a girlfriend, I mean.”
Jigen looked surprised.
“Really? Huh, who’ve figured.”
Goemon was bright red again, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth pulled downwards.
“I was too busy with my studies for such distractions.”
“Yeah, well, I dunno, I would’ve figured there would’ve been at least someone. No Mrs Goemon waiting at home for you?” Jigen gave a jeering smirk with the last part, flinching away as Goemon went to hit him in the arm in protest.
“Shame, you’re a good enough looking guy.”
Goemon’s eyes went wide at this before he abruptly excused himself with a bumbling excuse about needing to take a bath (he was obviously lying, but Jigen couldn’t help but feel a little amused at how flustered he’d made him). Now alone in the room, Jigen turned over Goemon’s comb in his palm, fingers grazing the inset pearl as a smile danced on his lips.
"Yeah, what a shitty liar."