When he came in the evening to speak to Sunshine of the things Abe had asked him to, all he could hear was keening. Despite the heavy door and the wards and the door, Zenigata knew the sounds of grief when he heard it.

He stood there, still dry eyed after all this time. The shock was lingering, or maybe the fact he had begun to let his mind wander to things better left unthought left him with a sense of purpose. Maybe he'd cracked.

In the end, he did not raise a hand. He did not ask to share her grief with her. That was an ugly wail, the type you made when no one else was listening, no one was there to watch you break down. He'd made that sound the first time Lupin faked his death, so he knew it when he heard it.

Zenigata went back down the hall, mind wrapped up with plans. He didn't want Sunshine to cry, for Abe to grieve. He didn't want those things for himself, either. Which meant something had to change. There had to be a way to fix this. He was in Milliways, after all. Anything could happen here. Anything. One didn't need to be Lupin to attain the impossible. It was here, anybody could find it.

Which meant Zenigata had to go looking.

...after some drinking and other bad choices. Once he'd cleared the taste from his emotional palate. Then, he'd find a way to do the impossible. After he let himself get sloppy shitfaced.

After.