The mission was simple. Goro Amarao was to assist in Interpol's apprehension of Lupin III and retrieve the guitar of one Haruko Haruhara a.k.a. Raharu before she managed to
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Accurately predicted, Zenigata was all alone in his office, which may have been both a good and bad thing. Good, because it was tiny to begin with and Koichi didn't necessarily abide by the Cleanliness is Next to Godliness rule. Bad, because it likely just furthered his retreat from humanity as we know it.
The only sounds in the office were the two small fans going, precariously perched on some of the large stacks of paper and manilla folders.
On hearing the knock, Koichi lifted his head slightly, giving a blunt, "Come in."
Inside Zenigata was sitting with his shoes kicked up on his desk, one ankle crossed over the other, sitting back in his chair with his face hidden behind papers he was looking back and forth at. His infamous trench coat and hat were hanging from a wobbly coat rack, along with his suit jacket he really just didn't feel like wearing.
After a few moments dark eyes peered over top of the papers, thick eyelashes batting once under furrowed brows. "Can I help you?"
When he stepped inside, Amarao took a moment to regard the god-awful mess of papers. He sniffed lightly, more to clear his sinuses, and turned his attention to the gruff Inspector.
Tough. You could tell right off. In that weathered, impressive way. There was something about those dark ringed eyes that suggested a bit of derangement; an intensity that most criminals wouldn't want to question.
How did a guy like that get stuck on a gig like this.
"I'm Inspector Amarao. I'm here to work with you on the Lupin case." Fortunately this time not a woman. He'd read a lot of women got put by Zenigata's side in pursuit of the master thief. All meant to tempt him. Most of them tempted by him. Sorta left the Inspector at a loss, he'd guess.
A rectangular eyebrow twitched up. "I take it you and computers don't get along."
"Ah, so you're the one they sent this time?" He put his papers together and tossed them onto the top of his desk, folding his arms. "I guess at least you don't have tits this time." Crude, as usual. The Inspector picked up a pack of cigarettes and shook out one: something to add to the already overflowing ashtray. He looked around at his office at the observation, raising a brow at the accusation of his technophobia. "Never been much of a need for 'em, no," He said, "I'm usually never here anyway. Why ask for the funding when I can use it for more important things?" He lit the cancer stick and puffed away at it, looking mostly unimpressed. "...do they expect you to stay in here?"
"Yes," he responded flatly, unenthused but serious. He walked over to the desk and sat his helmet on the edge of it, before walking to the nearest stack of papers and picked up a file.
"You've been through a lot of partners. Don't worry. I won't be in your hair long. You need Lupin. I need what Lupin has..." He flicked through pages, a little faster than your average person would. But his reading comprehension was high. His observations were swift. They had to be. He didn't have time to go over reports all day in his field of work.
Though he could use with a more efficient filing system.
Silently promising himself to organize this riotous mess at the first opportunity (which would likely come soon, as Amarao had no life to speak of, he looked over his shoulder at Zenigata.
"You're the grandson of the famous detective Zenigata too, aren't you?" he said, indulging in his bad habit of asking questions that led away from the subject at hand. But really, you could learn a lot about a person that way.
The Inspector made his own wordless inquiries about Amarao, watching him carefully. Amarao was rather certain about his movements, something that could be attributed to either cockiness or some kind of uncommon young sagely wisdom. He squinted one eye and sat up, puffing away. "Yeah," He said with a slight tilt to his voice, "But not many people make the connection." Especially not those as young as Amarao. "I guess they expect me to throw coins around or something." He sat his elbows on his desk and tilted his head to look around a stack of papers at a wall. "I think there's a desk over there," He said in a strange tone, "Underneath that pile of dummies. Uh...try not to shake around the one with the orange hat on, though, I think it's explosive." He rolled his shoulders and paused to take a drag, looking back up at Amarao. "Unfortunately or not, my reputation precedes me. Did they warn you about anything else regarding me?" It might have been a joke, maybe.
"It's interesting. It's a lot to live up to." He dryly looked over at the pile of dummies, and if anything said much about the man, it was that the warning concerning the mountain of peculiar dummies warranted little more than another twitched brow
( ... )
Koichi watched the drama unfold in slow motion, cringing slightly when he knew he wouldn't be able to move in time. Stuffing out his cigarette he peered over the edge of his desk almost hesitantly at the new crime scene that was his office's floor.
"I think I just earned the new world record of shortest partnership ever," He said in good-nature tone, some kind of attempt at getting rid of the new awkward in the room. He stood up and went over, that protective ol' dad in him rearing its head as he moved the papers off of Amarao.
"I guess it'll be right up there with all the other records of short relationships I have," He ended it with a small smile, offering a hand to help the Commander up.
When the papers were removed, Amarao propped himself up on his elbows and finally removed his sunglasses, looking over Zenigata with a pair of stunning gray blue eyes that didn't seem to match his face.
"It takes more than that to make me give up." It was surprising to him that others would. But they often lacked his determination. He gripped Zenigata's hand with one of his own strong ones, noting the leathered texture of the older man's skin. Hardened with work and effort.
He pulled himself up, pressed at his eyebrows with his fingertips to ensure they were still secure, and glanced around to see where his stress ball had been lost to.
The comment made an involuntary smile pull on the corner of his mouth, the line ringing quite familiar to the Inspector. It was something he had quoted quite often himself of course; he wasn't a pain in Lupin's side for nothing. Clearing his throat the smile vanished as if it was just some mild twitch, dark eyes regarding what the sunglasses had been mostly hiding. Automatically trying to place him, Zenigata watched a bit longer, eyebrows creasing downwards. He placed a hand on his chin and the other on his hip in a gesture of contemplation, staring Amarao down to the point it might have been uncomfortable.
"What are you, Japanese?" He asked a little bluntly.
Amarao had a pretty unique look to him, that was for sure. At first Koichi thought he might have him pegged, but was then thrown off by kind of everything.
"You look like you're from one of those rock bands."
"Mostly. It's rare." He scratched a hand through his scraggly red dyed hair. "I like my hair."
He liked it because it reminded him of her. That he could be as good as her. She had a scooter, he could have a scooter. She had pink hair, he could step up and have red. It was his decision. He was an adult. They were allowed to decide those things.
Giving up the stress ball for lost, he looked at the jumble of dummies again and pondered how he was going to brave that mess.
Then gave Zenigata a side-long glance. He had noted his unusual appearance. His unusual eye color, and looked appraisingly in every way. But he had yet to hear that lowly muttered eyebrows that was so common of most people.
"No famous or important ancestors for me, I'm afraid. Usually people don't even seem to notice. So why don't you tell me more about Lupin?" he asked, deciding to pull those dummies off one by one and organize them... wondering to himself why they weren't kept in storage.
"Ain't nothing wrong with it. It's different," he said in regards to Amarao's hair, looking over at the mess that had been sitting there for who knows how long
( ... )
The closet earned another of those muted, slightly quizzical looks that was exagerated by the profound eyebrows. Then joined in arranging the dummies off to the side. It seemed like a good idea to him.
As Zenigata described the thief, he found himself positioning the dummies so they looked like they were sitting around reading the files. Maybe because he was used to having a task force. Not a derelict office in the back that peopled tried to pretend didn't exist...
Ironic, the man that looked for aliens had better resources. TV had the superstition wrong. No basement files for him.
"Sounds like someone I know," he muttered. Especially that menace part. And the mannerisms of a child... But the monkey part actually made him smile a little. "Well, at least he has that going for him."
Raharu must have hated being robbed by a primitive monkey.
He didn't question the new arrangement of the dummies. Hell, it looked...kind of organized. The cogs in his head were spinning, though, the cork on his rantbottle dangerously close to popping. He gave a snort.
"He's a marvel, that guy," He said, though it hardly sounded complimentary, "And trying to catch him is like trying to catch water with a net."
The drags on his cigarette became a little more purposeful and his eyes more hard set, attracted to some newspaper clippings on a cork board.
Had any of the other people from the office been in there, they likely would have started whispering Get out! Get out while you still can! to Amarao
( ... )
His eyes got a little wider, jaw dropping a little further the louder that Zenigata got. The more passionate that Zenigata got. There was that silent voice of warning in the back of Amarao's mind, that semblence of the sane man that he could have been had he not been driven down the path that he was.
But there was another voice... a stronger voice... that behind his shock he had starry-eyed admiration.
To think he had been determinedly chasing Lupin for that long! Ceaselessly! And with that much passion and conviction.
He only hoped he could last that long.
"Er...." he muttered, staring. And then glancing away self-conciously. "The guitar. He has a guitar that he's stolen. It has a history, and I need to find it."
The only sounds in the office were the two small fans going, precariously perched on some of the large stacks of paper and manilla folders.
On hearing the knock, Koichi lifted his head slightly, giving a blunt, "Come in."
Inside Zenigata was sitting with his shoes kicked up on his desk, one ankle crossed over the other, sitting back in his chair with his face hidden behind papers he was looking back and forth at.
His infamous trench coat and hat were hanging from a wobbly coat rack, along with his suit jacket he really just didn't feel like wearing.
After a few moments dark eyes peered over top of the papers, thick eyelashes batting once under furrowed brows.
"Can I help you?"
Reply
Tough. You could tell right off. In that weathered, impressive way. There was something about those dark ringed eyes that suggested a bit of derangement; an intensity that most criminals wouldn't want to question.
How did a guy like that get stuck on a gig like this.
"I'm Inspector Amarao. I'm here to work with you on the Lupin case." Fortunately this time not a woman. He'd read a lot of women got put by Zenigata's side in pursuit of the master thief. All meant to tempt him. Most of them tempted by him. Sorta left the Inspector at a loss, he'd guess.
A rectangular eyebrow twitched up. "I take it you and computers don't get along."
Reply
He put his papers together and tossed them onto the top of his desk, folding his arms.
"I guess at least you don't have tits this time."
Crude, as usual. The Inspector picked up a pack of cigarettes and shook out one: something to add to the already overflowing ashtray.
He looked around at his office at the observation, raising a brow at the accusation of his technophobia.
"Never been much of a need for 'em, no," He said, "I'm usually never here anyway. Why ask for the funding when I can use it for more important things?"
He lit the cancer stick and puffed away at it, looking mostly unimpressed.
"...do they expect you to stay in here?"
Reply
"You've been through a lot of partners. Don't worry. I won't be in your hair long. You need Lupin. I need what Lupin has..." He flicked through pages, a little faster than your average person would. But his reading comprehension was high. His observations were swift. They had to be. He didn't have time to go over reports all day in his field of work.
Though he could use with a more efficient filing system.
Silently promising himself to organize this riotous mess at the first opportunity (which would likely come soon, as Amarao had no life to speak of, he looked over his shoulder at Zenigata.
"You're the grandson of the famous detective Zenigata too, aren't you?" he said, indulging in his bad habit of asking questions that led away from the subject at hand. But really, you could learn a lot about a person that way.
Reply
Amarao was rather certain about his movements, something that could be attributed to either cockiness or some kind of uncommon young sagely wisdom.
He squinted one eye and sat up, puffing away.
"Yeah," He said with a slight tilt to his voice, "But not many people make the connection."
Especially not those as young as Amarao.
"I guess they expect me to throw coins around or something."
He sat his elbows on his desk and tilted his head to look around a stack of papers at a wall.
"I think there's a desk over there," He said in a strange tone, "Underneath that pile of dummies. Uh...try not to shake around the one with the orange hat on, though, I think it's explosive."
He rolled his shoulders and paused to take a drag, looking back up at Amarao.
"Unfortunately or not, my reputation precedes me. Did they warn you about anything else regarding me?"
It might have been a joke, maybe.
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"I think I just earned the new world record of shortest partnership ever," He said in good-nature tone, some kind of attempt at getting rid of the new awkward in the room.
He stood up and went over, that protective ol' dad in him rearing its head as he moved the papers off of Amarao.
"I guess it'll be right up there with all the other records of short relationships I have," He ended it with a small smile, offering a hand to help the Commander up.
Reply
"It takes more than that to make me give up." It was surprising to him that others would. But they often lacked his determination. He gripped Zenigata's hand with one of his own strong ones, noting the leathered texture of the older man's skin. Hardened with work and effort.
He pulled himself up, pressed at his eyebrows with his fingertips to ensure they were still secure, and glanced around to see where his stress ball had been lost to.
Reply
It was something he had quoted quite often himself of course; he wasn't a pain in Lupin's side for nothing.
Clearing his throat the smile vanished as if it was just some mild twitch, dark eyes regarding what the sunglasses had been mostly hiding.
Automatically trying to place him, Zenigata watched a bit longer, eyebrows creasing downwards. He placed a hand on his chin and the other on his hip in a gesture of contemplation, staring Amarao down to the point it might have been uncomfortable.
"What are you, Japanese?" He asked a little bluntly.
Amarao had a pretty unique look to him, that was for sure. At first Koichi thought he might have him pegged, but was then thrown off by kind of everything.
"You look like you're from one of those rock bands."
Reply
He liked it because it reminded him of her. That he could be as good as her. She had a scooter, he could have a scooter. She had pink hair, he could step up and have red. It was his decision. He was an adult. They were allowed to decide those things.
Giving up the stress ball for lost, he looked at the jumble of dummies again and pondered how he was going to brave that mess.
Then gave Zenigata a side-long glance. He had noted his unusual appearance. His unusual eye color, and looked appraisingly in every way. But he had yet to hear that lowly muttered eyebrows that was so common of most people.
"No famous or important ancestors for me, I'm afraid. Usually people don't even seem to notice. So why don't you tell me more about Lupin?" he asked, deciding to pull those dummies off one by one and organize them... wondering to himself why they weren't kept in storage.
Reply
Reply
As Zenigata described the thief, he found himself positioning the dummies so they looked like they were sitting around reading the files. Maybe because he was used to having a task force. Not a derelict office in the back that peopled tried to pretend didn't exist...
Ironic, the man that looked for aliens had better resources. TV had the superstition wrong. No basement files for him.
"Sounds like someone I know," he muttered. Especially that menace part. And the mannerisms of a child... But the monkey part actually made him smile a little. "Well, at least he has that going for him."
Raharu must have hated being robbed by a primitive monkey.
Reply
He gave a snort.
"He's a marvel, that guy," He said, though it hardly sounded complimentary, "And trying to catch him is like trying to catch water with a net."
The drags on his cigarette became a little more purposeful and his eyes more hard set, attracted to some newspaper clippings on a cork board.
Had any of the other people from the office been in there, they likely would have started whispering Get out! Get out while you still can! to Amarao ( ... )
Reply
But there was another voice... a stronger voice... that behind his shock he had starry-eyed admiration.
To think he had been determinedly chasing Lupin for that long! Ceaselessly! And with that much passion and conviction.
He only hoped he could last that long.
"Er...." he muttered, staring. And then glancing away self-conciously. "The guitar. He has a guitar that he's stolen. It has a history, and I need to find it."
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