A nephew of mine once tried to entertain me on one of my infrequent vacations by playing popular American music. I didn't care for it, but one line seized my attention. It describes my life so well! I wonder what you would do, if I said it to you: "Welcome back, my friends, to the show that never ends." You would be startled, I think. Perhaps you would accuse me of trying to make the jokes this time. You would certainly not believe that I consider you a friend. I do, though. It is strange, I know ... after all, through these many years, haven't I tried to defeat you countless times? And haven't you upset every plan I ever laid? Despite all that, I feel that you are more than just a friend. You are one of the finest people I have ever known. Despite your many, many flaws, you always end up doing the right thing. You would dismiss such statements, of course. You are one of those who hides his true self so effectively that you don't even realize that you do it. There was a time that I did hate you. Amida Buddha knows what a fool I became because of that twisted passion. It almost consumed me. I think only your "death" saved me. I had time to realize what I was becoming ... and I was disgusted. I retreated from the world, to have more time to contemplate. In the quiet place, I realized that the problem was the hatred itself. Had I needed to hate you in order to defeat you? No, of course not. The hatred only confused me, turning my thoughts from the serenity of justice to the haze of vengeance. I rid myself of hatred for your memory ... and was startled to realize that only fondness for your memory remained, along with the regret that I would never see you again. And then the news came. You lived. I felt astounded, and startled the messenger with my enthusiasm to return to the battle. I didn't bother to explain it to him, or to my superiors. They wouldn't have understood, any more than those few whom I *have* told did. I think they believe me mad, for thinking that we are friends and yet striving for your defeat. Do you know what will happen when I defeat you? There shall be a trial. I shall be called to testify. Sternly, I shall relate each and every crime that you have ever committed. The testimony shall take days. All your sins shall come back to haunt you. When I am done, your counsel shall stand and try to challenge my credibility. He shall suggest that I must be exaggerating *some* element of my account -- "after all, you have been hunting the prisoner for thirty years. You must despise him, don't you?" "No, I do not," I shall testify. Your counsel will confusedly ask me to explain. And I shall. I shall give them the other side: all the people you have helped, all the greater evils you have thwarted, all the lives you made better by your actions -- especially my own. "I do not despise the prisoner," I shall testify. "I am honored to be his friend." And the jury and the court shall know you as well as I do. And as I do, they shall be unable to find you guilty of any thing. It will be over, and you and I will meet. You will know me, then, as I know you. And you will say, "Thank you, my friend," and mean it. It is for that moment that I strive -- the moment when you and I can be friends openly. But before that can happen, I must defeat you. As I think on this, I feel my lips curl slightly in a smile. You will probably take it as a response to your nearly demonic grin. We both wear masks until that moment. So be it. Back to the script. "LUPIN! You are under arre--" And the game begins again. Author's Notes: Before anyone yells at me, Zenigata's conception of Lupin's trial is his own. I doubt that the prosecution would hesitate to tear apart the second part of his testimony, or that the judge would view it with the same eyes that he does. Tottsan is, at base, an idealist ... and he's also, you may have guessed, a little insane. (But it's a *good* insane.) "Lupin III" was created by Monkey Punch and brought to North America by Streamline Pictures and AnimEigo. This story, incorporating characters held under copyright by others, is copyright 1999 of Chris Davies. Nobody Sue Me Okay?