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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"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.
He pulled off his bulky coat, but not before removing a stress ball from the pocket and finding the coatrack to place it on. He perfectly balanced it out against the heavy beige number Zenigata typically donned, pre-analyzing even in such casual situations.
"No." He responded to that last comment simply, and walked over to where the stack of dummies was.
He pressed his foot into the knee of one, face all too serious as he scaled one and grabbed the head of another, facing them like a mountain to get over to the other side. But a hand accidentally planted on a fake breast earned a strange strangled sound, and he yanked back with an abrupt (and hilarious to some) cringe, as if he were expecting to be hit on some reflex.
He fell onto his back, though, and a pile of papers teetered above him. He barely had time to cover his head when they piled onto him like a torrent...
And rather than climb out from under immediately, there came a soft figures sort of groan of acceptance, and he laid there for a moment to catch his breath before attempt two.
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.
Lighting up another cigarette, he tucked his lighter back away and went over to start helping move the dummies. The slight change of heart to help couldn't really be explained, but it was probably better left unasked. He rolled his sleeves to his elbows and picked up a couple dummies, moving to prop them up in a corner. Slowly he opened a closet door and there was the sound of metal, papers, and cloth shifting on the inside, the Inspector quickly pushing it back shut before he was attacked by the avalanche.
"Having ancestors ain't what it's cracked up to be anyway. It's the name you make for yourself," He said off-handedly, scratching his head and deciding the dummies would just have to stand off to the side.
"What do I say about Lupin?" He replied flatly, shaking his head as he went to pick up a Lupin dummy for illustration, "He's a con-artist, a menace, a lunatic, a glutton, T and A chaser, a criminal mastermind, and on top of it all, can have the mannerisms of a child."
He glanced at the limp-jointed dummy in his hands, lifting up the head.
"Plus, he kinda looks like a monkey." He moved the dummy over to be propped up with its friends.
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.
"And he thinks he's so damn clever, whenever I'm a step ahead of him it seems like he just made that part of his plan all along! It's infuriating to no end! My life's work is devoted to this baboon that doesn't know how to match and what do I have to show for it?"
The dummies aside, he began to pick up other things off the rapidly appearing desk, plopping piles to the side as his voice steadily got louder. Was he even talking to Amarao anymore?
"Everyone just underestimates his abilities and none of them will believe old Koichi, oh no! But who is it they cry to when he makes off with their fortunes? I don't really give a damn if they listen anymore, bring on the jewels, bring on the stacks of gold bars, whatever, just as long as it's one more chance to get him-!" A wide gesture to point an accusing finger at a dart board with a mugshot of Lupin on it. "-behind bars for good!"
His fist hit the newly cleared desk, ending the rant off on a loud note. There was a lingering moment of silence as Zenigata seemed to collect himself, tossing the butt of his cigarette towards the ashtray.
"...so what is it you're after that he has?" A calm and cool look in Amarao's direction.
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."
Zenigata paused to look up at the ceiling for a moment. "A guitar, huh...sounds new to me." It sort of surprised him that the other desk was there. He wracked his brain trying to think of who had used it.
"So what's the deal with this guitar?" he asked, idly wandering to check some file cabinets for any space at all.
His mind flitted through all the young, naive faces of the people that worked beneath him, names he tried to make himself forget not coming too quickly.
"Was it owned by some old rich collector and you're their undercover assassin?" He suggested slightly ridiculously, but his tone said he wasn't joking, "Is there something about what it's made of and you're after that, or some dirty secret it contains that you can't allow to get out?"
He found some space and put a stack of papers from his own desk in there, having to throw out a box of questionable content to make room. He plopped back in his own chair, setting his elbows on the desk to look over.
Oh right, that had been Melon's desk, now that he thought of it. She'd only even used it once, but he distinctly remembered trying to get work done with her sitting there. He remembered it being impossible, because he couldn't stop looking at the way she made herself as unattractive as possible. She wore those big, nerdy glasses without an after thought, hair tied back in a nom-nonsense bun, clothes that could use some serious updating, and a brown trench coat that pinched at the waist. He remembered toying with the idea of asking the Frenchwoman to show her around Japan while they were there, or to take her out to eat. The memory was instantly followed by the bitter one of her resigning, giving up on her vendetta with Lupin, saying she was still young and her grandfather's honor wasn't worth throwing away her life over.
He huffed to himself and turned his head away, suddenly less thrilled about having another partner that would ultimately give up/betray him/be reassigned in short time. But, likely it would be betray him, that seemed to be the popular one. He checked the time. Almost time to go, for the whole rest of the department anyway.
"Well, Mr. Rock Star?" He asked, turning his eyes back towards the other man, "Or am I being purposefully kept in the dark so I can't ask questions?"
"If I was an assassin, I would wear a better coat. But that one is vintage," Amarao commented, moving some things around.
"Another criminal is going to come for that guitar," he said flatly. "One that I've been chasing for as long as I can remember."
Which was probably odd. Amarao looked young. He shouldn't have had to chase anyone for more than two years. Especially assigned to one person. "He stole it from her and is going to sell it. He doesn't know he's playing with fire. That woman will go off like a powder keg. She's a real menace. A walking disaster..."
His insane fury wasn't quite like Zenigata's. He kept it buried, and he could really use that stress ball right then.
"People are like that, though," he said, not facing the man as he organized around the desk to free it up. "They do those things. They're selfish and immature. They don't care who they hurt as long as they get what they want. A lot of innocent people learn the hard way that they can't count on them... and yet people still seem to fall for it-" fall for them "-over and over again, even when you warn them. It's the same old same old since the dawn of time."
He spoke with his back to the older detective, talking like he'd forgotten he was there, just lost in thought as he looked through old files- and then picked up a rather questionable picture from some other something Lupin had done involving barely dressed women and blushed brightly.
Zenigata's office was littered with so much unintentional porn.
The Inspector was silent as he listened, eyebrows pulling down further. He was surprised to hear the conviction and the wisdom that seemed like it should have been coming out of someone twice his age. He actually leaned in a little towards the end, lost in the familiarity of it all and Amarao's storyteller voice. His stern, grumpy expression had melted to a sort of blank enchantment, blinking once. It took him a second to realize Amarao had stopped talking and was fussing over some picture that had far too many boobies in relation to how many faces were there. He cleared his throat and sat back in his seat.
"So...we're going to be stopping Lupin so the person who owned it in the first place won't get it, but since that person is a criminal, we can't allow it to be re-stolen." Mentally he made a chart, keeping it all straight in his head. "Or are you trying to get it back to use as bait for what's-her-face?" He asked, putting his hands behind his head as he kicked his legs back up on his desk.
Ooh he couldn't sit still. Talking about Lupin always made him fidgety. He crossed one leg over the other and rocked slightly.
"We plan this right, we might just get ourselves two jailbirds with one pair of cuffs," He said with a small smirk, messing up an already terrible analogy, "Problem is she has an advantage over us on Lupin, cuz as long as she has boobs and a pulse he's a sucker."
"She has an advantage over everybody," he explained simply, futiley attempting to hide that gratuitous blush as he shoved that picture underneath another few pictures.
"Her name is Haruko Haruhara." It was difficult not to call her Raharu. He was so used to it. But Haruhara was the name that Zenigata needed to know. "She has pink hair and rides a Vespa. The guitar is a navy blue, left-handed Rickenbacker Bass 4001S."
She was stronger than cuffs. He didn't want to say that... Regular cuffs anyway.
"Consider it sentimental, but there's something personal I'd like to see her shackled in. Just to know that it was this that trapped her." He patted his jacket, a pair of highly magnetized titanium alloy D.I.I. issue shackles beneath.
After all that work uncovering his own desk, he still went over to Zenigata's to sit on the edge of it.
Koichi mouthed the name Amarao told him, either trying to see if it rung any bells or was just quite the tongue twister. He only raised a brow at the description of the guitar. Uh...blue, got it.
He tilted his head at the shackles, whistling once. "That's some heavy duty hardware, Inspector. But I can't blame you. Do it right the first time, huh?"
He reached backwards to pull open his jacket, the multitudes of handcuffs in there clinking together. "I have yet to find the pair that can hold that slippery bastard Lupin."
Stretched just far enough he flicked the bill of his hat, flipping it through the air and catching it. He placed it on his head and sat back again, folding his arms as he looked up at Amarao. Again he calculated those steel blues, peering out from underneath his hat. "So I'll look up Lupin's last known locations and start figuring out where he could be headed. Shouldn't take too long," He said absently, having done that same thing millions of times it seemed like, "Mm...guess we'll plan on from there." And yet again he stared, pinching up one eye slightly.
"Your eyebrows kinda remind me of piano keys." Black rectangles remind you of piano keys. Genius, Koichi.
He was so busy gaping at the incredible assortment of cuffs (how much did that man's clothes weigh?!) that it took him a moment to catch that last statement.
That was the strangest noting of his eyebrows anyone had made.
And obligingly, they twitched independently in surprise.
"....I'll keep an eye on Haruhara's whereabouts. My guess would be she would be after the guitar, and if there's a pattern, then she could lead us right to him." But it was important to make it to Lupin first. Before Raharu did. Damn, it was still difficult to call her by that ridiculous human name.
Zenigata grinned in that way only he could, everything about it charming except that small almost unmistakable ounce of crazy determination in the corners of his eyes.
"Thanks. I'm not quite the dottering old man that I look like, mm?"
He had no problem with the the eyebrows at all it seemed, because that was the only comment he had to make about them. He went straight to business as he pulled out various files and pulled a phone out from underneath some pile of papers. Hopefully Amarao wasn't expecting to sleep that night. Zenigata would likely be keeping him up 'til the wee hours of the morning unless he made an escape.
Amarao could probably easily find out things a hundred times faster on his own systems, but Koichi never claimed to be efficient. Who needed million dollar machinery when you had your gut feeling?
"You'd be amazed what you pick up camping out a spot for a couple of days."
((OOC: I dunno how you'd like to go about opening up the next scene, so I'll talk to you about it later, 'less you has it figured out already~))
He pulled off his bulky coat, but not before removing a stress ball from the pocket and finding the coatrack to place it on. He perfectly balanced it out against the heavy beige number Zenigata typically donned, pre-analyzing even in such casual situations.
"No." He responded to that last comment simply, and walked over to where the stack of dummies was.
He pressed his foot into the knee of one, face all too serious as he scaled one and grabbed the head of another, facing them like a mountain to get over to the other side. But a hand accidentally planted on a fake breast earned a strange strangled sound, and he yanked back with an abrupt (and hilarious to some) cringe, as if he were expecting to be hit on some reflex.
He fell onto his back, though, and a pile of papers teetered above him. He barely had time to cover his head when they piled onto him like a torrent...
And rather than climb out from under immediately, there came a soft figures sort of groan of acceptance, and he laid there for a moment to catch his breath before attempt two.
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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.
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"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.
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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."
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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.
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Lighting up another cigarette, he tucked his lighter back away and went over to start helping move the dummies. The slight change of heart to help couldn't really be explained, but it was probably better left unasked. He rolled his sleeves to his elbows and picked up a couple dummies, moving to prop them up in a corner.
Slowly he opened a closet door and there was the sound of metal, papers, and cloth shifting on the inside, the Inspector quickly pushing it back shut before he was attacked by the avalanche.
"Having ancestors ain't what it's cracked up to be anyway. It's the name you make for yourself," He said off-handedly, scratching his head and deciding the dummies would just have to stand off to the side.
"What do I say about Lupin?" He replied flatly, shaking his head as he went to pick up a Lupin dummy for illustration, "He's a con-artist, a menace, a lunatic, a glutton, T and A chaser, a criminal mastermind, and on top of it all, can have the mannerisms of a child."
He glanced at the limp-jointed dummy in his hands, lifting up the head.
"Plus, he kinda looks like a monkey."
He moved the dummy over to be propped up with its friends.
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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.
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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.
"And he thinks he's so damn clever, whenever I'm a step ahead of him it seems like he just made that part of his plan all along! It's infuriating to no end! My life's work is devoted to this baboon that doesn't know how to match and what do I have to show for it?"
The dummies aside, he began to pick up other things off the rapidly appearing desk, plopping piles to the side as his voice steadily got louder. Was he even talking to Amarao anymore?
"Everyone just underestimates his abilities and none of them will believe old Koichi, oh no! But who is it they cry to when he makes off with their fortunes? I don't really give a damn if they listen anymore, bring on the jewels, bring on the stacks of gold bars, whatever, just as long as it's one more chance to get him-!"
A wide gesture to point an accusing finger at a dart board with a mugshot of Lupin on it.
"-behind bars for good!"
His fist hit the newly cleared desk, ending the rant off on a loud note. There was a lingering moment of silence as Zenigata seemed to collect himself, tossing the butt of his cigarette towards the ashtray.
"...so what is it you're after that he has?" A calm and cool look in Amarao's direction.
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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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"A guitar, huh...sounds new to me."
It sort of surprised him that the other desk was there. He wracked his brain trying to think of who had used it.
"So what's the deal with this guitar?" he asked, idly wandering to check some file cabinets for any space at all.
His mind flitted through all the young, naive faces of the people that worked beneath him, names he tried to make himself forget not coming too quickly.
"Was it owned by some old rich collector and you're their undercover assassin?" He suggested slightly ridiculously, but his tone said he wasn't joking, "Is there something about what it's made of and you're after that, or some dirty secret it contains that you can't allow to get out?"
He found some space and put a stack of papers from his own desk in there, having to throw out a box of questionable content to make room. He plopped back in his own chair, setting his elbows on the desk to look over.
Oh right, that had been Melon's desk, now that he thought of it. She'd only even used it once, but he distinctly remembered trying to get work done with her sitting there.
He remembered it being impossible, because he couldn't stop looking at the way she made herself as unattractive as possible. She wore those big, nerdy glasses without an after thought, hair tied back in a nom-nonsense bun, clothes that could use some serious updating, and a brown trench coat that pinched at the waist.
He remembered toying with the idea of asking the Frenchwoman to show her around Japan while they were there, or to take her out to eat. The memory was instantly followed by the bitter one of her resigning, giving up on her vendetta with Lupin, saying she was still young and her grandfather's honor wasn't worth throwing away her life over.
He huffed to himself and turned his head away, suddenly less thrilled about having another partner that would ultimately give up/betray him/be reassigned in short time. But, likely it would be betray him, that seemed to be the popular one. He checked the time. Almost time to go, for the whole rest of the department anyway.
"Well, Mr. Rock Star?" He asked, turning his eyes back towards the other man, "Or am I being purposefully kept in the dark so I can't ask questions?"
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"Another criminal is going to come for that guitar," he said flatly. "One that I've been chasing for as long as I can remember."
Which was probably odd. Amarao looked young. He shouldn't have had to chase anyone for more than two years. Especially assigned to one person. "He stole it from her and is going to sell it. He doesn't know he's playing with fire. That woman will go off like a powder keg. She's a real menace. A walking disaster..."
His insane fury wasn't quite like Zenigata's. He kept it buried, and he could really use that stress ball right then.
"People are like that, though," he said, not facing the man as he organized around the desk to free it up. "They do those things. They're selfish and immature. They don't care who they hurt as long as they get what they want. A lot of innocent people learn the hard way that they can't count on them... and yet people still seem to fall for it-" fall for them "-over and over again, even when you warn them. It's the same old same old since the dawn of time."
He spoke with his back to the older detective, talking like he'd forgotten he was there, just lost in thought as he looked through old files- and then picked up a rather questionable picture from some other something Lupin had done involving barely dressed women and blushed brightly.
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The Inspector was silent as he listened, eyebrows pulling down further. He was surprised to hear the conviction and the wisdom that seemed like it should have been coming out of someone twice his age.
He actually leaned in a little towards the end, lost in the familiarity of it all and Amarao's storyteller voice.
His stern, grumpy expression had melted to a sort of blank enchantment, blinking once.
It took him a second to realize Amarao had stopped talking and was fussing over some picture that had far too many boobies in relation to how many faces were there.
He cleared his throat and sat back in his seat.
"So...we're going to be stopping Lupin so the person who owned it in the first place won't get it, but since that person is a criminal, we can't allow it to be re-stolen."
Mentally he made a chart, keeping it all straight in his head.
"Or are you trying to get it back to use as bait for what's-her-face?" He asked, putting his hands behind his head as he kicked his legs back up on his desk.
Ooh he couldn't sit still. Talking about Lupin always made him fidgety. He crossed one leg over the other and rocked slightly.
"We plan this right, we might just get ourselves two jailbirds with one pair of cuffs," He said with a small smirk, messing up an already terrible analogy, "Problem is she has an advantage over us on Lupin, cuz as long as she has boobs and a pulse he's a sucker."
He moved one hand to rub his chin.
"Just what chick we talkin' about, anyway?"
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"Her name is Haruko Haruhara." It was difficult not to call her Raharu. He was so used to it. But Haruhara was the name that Zenigata needed to know. "She has pink hair and rides a Vespa. The guitar is a navy blue, left-handed Rickenbacker Bass 4001S."
She was stronger than cuffs. He didn't want to say that... Regular cuffs anyway.
"Consider it sentimental, but there's something personal I'd like to see her shackled in. Just to know that it was this that trapped her." He patted his jacket, a pair of highly magnetized titanium alloy D.I.I. issue shackles beneath.
After all that work uncovering his own desk, he still went over to Zenigata's to sit on the edge of it.
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He only raised a brow at the description of the guitar.
Uh...blue, got it.
He tilted his head at the shackles, whistling once.
"That's some heavy duty hardware, Inspector. But I can't blame you. Do it right the first time, huh?"
He reached backwards to pull open his jacket, the multitudes of handcuffs in there clinking together.
"I have yet to find the pair that can hold that slippery bastard Lupin."
Stretched just far enough he flicked the bill of his hat, flipping it through the air and catching it. He placed it on his head and sat back again, folding his arms as he looked up at Amarao.
Again he calculated those steel blues, peering out from underneath his hat.
"So I'll look up Lupin's last known locations and start figuring out where he could be headed. Shouldn't take too long," He said absently, having done that same thing millions of times it seemed like, "Mm...guess we'll plan on from there."
And yet again he stared, pinching up one eye slightly.
"Your eyebrows kinda remind me of piano keys."
Black rectangles remind you of piano keys. Genius, Koichi.
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That was the strangest noting of his eyebrows anyone had made.
And obligingly, they twitched independently in surprise.
"....I'll keep an eye on Haruhara's whereabouts. My guess would be she would be after the guitar, and if there's a pattern, then she could lead us right to him." But it was important to make it to Lupin first. Before Raharu did. Damn, it was still difficult to call her by that ridiculous human name.
"Smooth move with the hat, by the way..."
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"Thanks. I'm not quite the dottering old man that I look like, mm?"
He had no problem with the the eyebrows at all it seemed, because that was the only comment he had to make about them. He went straight to business as he pulled out various files and pulled a phone out from underneath some pile of papers.
Hopefully Amarao wasn't expecting to sleep that night. Zenigata would likely be keeping him up 'til the wee hours of the morning unless he made an escape.
Amarao could probably easily find out things a hundred times faster on his own systems, but Koichi never claimed to be efficient. Who needed million dollar machinery when you had your gut feeling?
"You'd be amazed what you pick up camping out a spot for a couple of days."
((OOC: I dunno how you'd like to go about opening up the next scene, so I'll talk to you about it later, 'less you has it figured out already~))
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