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The sky had turned a fire-like red as the sun set over the city, fading up into golden oranges and warm violets. Lupin pulled his cigarettes from the breast pocket of his jacket, for once the pack was pristine, uncrushed and full. His eyes drifted up again, following the overhead gradient as it was obscured by a curl of fresh smoke. There were no stars where the sky was darkest, and heavy clouds jutted across the horizon. Lupin inhaled deeply with his nose, around the smell of tobacco, the breeze was dewey and thick. He took another drag off his cigarette, it was going to rain later.
The jewelry collection they had stolen from some company bigwig’s estate had earned them a pretty penny. And since the job had gone on without a hitch they were free to stick around in their penthouse suite until the next challenge piqued Lupin’s interest. So that’s where Lupin found himself, on the balcony overlooking the Los Angeles sunset with a fresh pack of Lucky Strikes. They weren’t Gitanes, but he could get more the next time they visit Europe.
Lupin reached his hand up to grip the cigarette between two fingers, he closed his lips around the filter to breath in another lungful of smoke only to find no cigarette to inhale from. He turned to find Jigen grinning like a loon, Lupin’s Lucky Strike pinched at the point where the filter ends between his thumb and index finger. Immediately Lupin launched himself toward Jigen to get his smoke back, “Hey! Get your own, that’s mine!”
“And now it’s mine,” Jigen held the cigarette up as high as he could, just out of Lupin’s reach. Lupin pouted as Jigen turned away from him to take a hefty drag and flick the ash off the end.
Lupin lit himself another cigarette and crossed his arms over the balcony railing. “You know you’re a real jerk,” he whined, though there was very little actual annoyance behind it.
“Heh, you bet.” Jigen rested his elbows on the railing. Lupin gave Jigen a once over, he wasn’t wearing a jacket, and his tie was hanging low and loosely at his collar, but his trademark hat was, as always, atop his head and tipped over his brow to hide his eyes. A gust of chill wind told Lupin Jigen had already helped himself to some of the wine in the hotel room’s mini-fridge.
The two smoke in silence for a time, and Lupin went back to looking for hints of stars behind the incoming storm clouds. It was times like this Lupin wished he had some kind of superpower to have a really nice camera, or oil paints on him at all times. “Y’know this reminds me of the night we met,” Jigen said quietly, almost wistfully, and punctuated the thought with a flick of the last of the ash from the end of his smoke and dropping the butt onto the balcony floor to stamp it out.
Lupin exhaled some smoke in a thin stream, he moved his gaze slowly from the skyline to Jigen’s profile. He rested his chin in his palm, “Oh? How so?”
Jigen shrugged, “Eh… Red sunset, big city, smells like rain too. All that’s missing is a friggin’ gunshot wound.”
“Want to shoot me? Or do you want me to shoot you?” Lupin asked, his contented smile curling impishly.
“Don’t you frigging dare, you nutcase!” Jigen shouted, laughing through his indignation, “We have one good haul and you turn on me, who are you? Fujiko?”
Lupin gasped in offense, and shoved Jigen’s shoulder. Then he sidled right up to Jigen’s side and offered him the last of his cigarette, he wasn’t really a fan of Lucky Strikes, anyway. At least they weren’t Pall Malls or Malboros, how Jigen manages to smoke those things was a mystery Lupin was happy to never know the answer to. After a moment Jigen’s answer finally registered with Lupin, the sunset and petrichor on the breeze reminded him of how they met? Lupin pursed his lips and furrowed his brow in thought, he leaned his torso away from Jigen and took another look at him.
Lupin thought back as far as he could. Sure being in a big city at sunset was hardly a rarity with them; most prizes worth taking weren’t out in the countryside, nor single day ventures… But Lupin distinctly recalled seeing Jigen for the first time proper when it was sunny, in the middle of the day. But maybe that’s not what Jigen was talking about.
“Hey, Jigen-chan~” Lupin cooed, his pensive expression smoothing into a saccharine smile, “Jigen dear, tell me, what else d’you remember about the day we met?”
Jigen answered with a confused grunt. He straightened his back and turned toward Lupin, at that angle Lupin could just barely see Jigen’s eyes, hiding behind his loose bangs underneath the brim of his fedora. The gunman’s mouth was pulled tight and low, and if Lupin’s memory of that specific version of Jigen’s confused expression is correct, his eyebrows were raised comically high. “Uh… most of it? Why?”
Keeping his gaze focused on Jigen’s face, Lupin rested his chin on his newly interlaced fingers and kicked one foot behind him to cross his ankles. The picture of innocent curiosity, “Tell me about it, I’m feeling nostalgic.”
“Whatever you say, Boss.” Jigen pulled his hat back over his face and settled back against the railing. “It was when I was working for… uh-” Jigen’s words stalled as he made a show of wracking his memories- “Was it Cabo? Capo? Whatever, some mob-type guy with a stupid name and too much money who liked hiring cliche looking henchmen in New York.”
The story Jigen told was one Lupin was familiar with, he had stolen a legendary treasure map from some mafia don and had almost made it out scott free! He had made it into an alleyway, about a block away from his beloved Benz SSK, but he’d been stopped by the barrel of a revolver pointed right between his eyes. The memory had giggles bubbling up in Lupin’s throat.
“And then they just opened fi- hey what are you laughing at?” Jigen pushed the brim of his hat up with his thumb, there was no smile on his face but there was one hiding in his voice. Lupin couldn’t contain the giggles anymore and they spilled past his lips before growing into proper peals of laughter. “Seriously!” Jigen nudged Lupin’s shoulder with his own, “What’s so friggin’ funny, man?”
Lupin wiped a phantom tear from the corner of his eye, “Sorry, sorry! I just remember that those guys called you ‘Shaggy.’”
Jigen huffed a half laugh, “Yeah they did, huh?” He took his hat off to push his bangs back, then plopped the fedora back into its place, “You made me spaghetti, and we ran off to follow that map.”
“You never did tell me why they called you that,” Lupin said with a grin, he leaned into Jigen’s space, “Was it the beard? Or was it because you’re good in bed because I’d say-”
“I was the only guy on that don’s payroll with hair past my ears,” Jigen rebuffed. He pushed Lupin’s face away with the flat of one palm and used the other hand to pull his hat lower on his head. Lupin’s grin only widened, even with the barrier of the hat brim and one of Jigen’s fingers covering his eye, he could see Jigen’s tan face go ruddy from cheekbone to collar.
Before he got too caught up in how cute Jigen could be when he was embarrassed, Lupin peeled Jigen’s hand off his face by the wrist, “As nice as the story about when we started working together officially is -definitely something to share at our wedding-” Lupin fixed himself to be leaning on the railing in Jigen’s space again, his head propped up by his fist and weight resting on one leg and Jigen shoved his newly freed hand into his pocket, “But Jigen dear, I meant when we met.”
“I did.”
Lupin shook his head with wide eyes, “No, don’t you remember? First year of junior high, I watched you shoot at a gang of thugs that called for you during lunch break! I stole a pair of golden engraved pistols from you at that pub.”
Jigen blinked, his hat tipped back almost as if to accentuate his shock. “What?”
“You should remember!” Lupin tried frivolously, searching for any sign of recognition in the dark brown of Jigen’s eyes.
“What!?”
Lupin deflated, he pulled away from Jigen, untangling his fists from Jigen’s shirt, unsure of when he grabbed him. “Uh, Jigen?”
Jigen pulled out his own pack of cigarettes -Malboros, of course- and stuck one between his teeth. “Mm?” Jigen hummed as he turned his head to let Lupin light it. Lupin had the lighter lit and at the cherry in an instant.
“What… do you remember from back then?” Lupin asked, pocketing his lighter and drumming his fingers on the balcony railing.
Jigen puffed a billow of smoke out his mouth, his crumpled and dented cigarette held between his index finger and thumb, pinky extended. The way he’s held smokes since he was a kid. “You mean, from when I was a kid?” Lupin nodded. “Not much, honestly,” Jigen answered with a shrug, “My old man had me doing all kinds of shit, weapons deals, hits, bodyguarding gigs, eventually it all just blends together… I do remember we were in Tokyo for a couple of years.”
“Oh?” Lupin perked up, “That wouldn’t have happened to have been while you were about… thirteen? Within the twelve to fifteen range, even?”
“Huh,” Jigen said, “I was around fourteen, yeah. Small for my age and held back a year because I was rarely ever in school, in part thanks to the family biz.”
Lupin snickered, “And the other part was because you’d hide out on the roof to smoke and nap.”
Jigen’s shoulders tensed, he extinguished his barely smoked cigarette and flicked it toward the street below. “Did you have any friends in school, Jigen dear?” Lupin’s tone had a prodding lilt to it, his fingers tapped to a faster and heavier rhythm on the black metal top rail.
“Y’know now that you mention it…” Jigen began,
“Yes?” Lupin said, drawing the vowel out and up in pitch.
“Tch, nosy,” Jigen said, “I had a friend, we got into a lot of shit. Rescuing a lounge singer from a sinking ship, stealing whiskey from the US military… I’m pretty sure he tailed me on jobs a few times, I don’t know, it was like seventh grade that was ages ago.”
Lupin was practically ready to start dancing on the spot, Jigen did remember! Everything except him specifically. What kind of laser guided amnesia bullshit was that? Oh well, Lupin could work with that. “That’s such a shame, man. Anyways!” Lupin snapped his fingers and turned on his heel to go back inside, “It’s getting cold, let’s go raid the suite’s minibar before Fujicakes and Goemon clean it out on us.”
Jigen hesitated a moment before following, “Uh… okay.” Lupin heard him muttering something about weird questions and fickleness. Lupin could deal with some confusion and irritation on Jigen’s part, he had a plan! Not just any plan, a plan that would get him the sweetest prize he could ever get from his gunman: short circuiting him with second hand embarrassment in front of people. Because he was just adorable when he blushed, and as selfish as a man in Lupin’s career path was, he just couldn’t keep that to himself.
As expected, Fujiko and Goemon were sitting on the loveseat, each with nearly empty glasses of a crisp, pricey, pinot grigio. What must have been Jigen’s glass sat empty on the coffee table. Lupin bound over to the room’s minibar and grabbed another bottle of wine -a malbec this time- in one hand with a glass, and awkwardly threads his fingers around the necks of a pair of bottles of double malt scotch. Like a polite host, Lupin topped off the white wines with the last of the pinot grigio and cracked open the malbec for himself and Jigen to start.
After pouring the wine, Lupin settled himself at the end of the couch adjacent to the loveseat, Jigen dropped himself onto the other end, kicking his feet into Lupin’s lap. “So, Lupin, do you have any idea what our next hit will be?” Goemon asked. He sipped his wine slowly, likely wishing it was sake. Lupin shook his head with a smile.
“I’ve got my eye on a very nice antique tea set,” Fujiko said, “You guys wouldn’t want to help a girl out here, would you?” her currently bubblegum pink lips puckered into a puppy dog pout as she batted her lashes at Lupin and rested her head against Goemon’s shoulder. Lupin wanted to agree immediately, and how! But he also knew exactly what tea set Fujiko wanted and Lupin didn’t want to go to Greece for at least another month, so instead he focused on the funny way Goemon bristled like a startled cat at the sudden contact from the world’s most beautiful woman.
Fujiko sighed, “Nobody?” She was good at putting on a show, she almost looked genuinely hurt.
“Not until the summer ends, Fujicakes,” Lupin said, “Running from Pops isn’t fun when half of us have heat stroke.”
Goemon nodded, “I have training I need to get to in Japan soon anyways.” He spoke a little too fast, and he couldn’t seem to make eye contact with anyone, Lupin noted absently, “Fasting… Frigid waterfalls… Those sorts of things,”
“Of course,” Fujiko responded, she chugged back the rest of her wine and turned her attention to Jigen without moving her head from Goemon’s shoulder, “What about you, Jigen? Will you do a tiny favour for your best girl?”
Jigen scoffed, “Best girl my friggin’ ass. Last I checked you weren’t my gun.”
Fujiko rolled her eyes but dropped the subject. The wine bottle went empty after Fujiko and Goemon took their share, with Lupin taking the very last of it, then the scotch started making the rounds. It was hardly the stuff they could get from the top shelf from a decent whiskey bar but considering it came with the suite it wasn’t half bad. As they drank the gang talked about work, about what they wanted to do with their current earnings. Eventually, after the light from outside had long since disappeared and had been replaced with the artificial glow of a floor lamp and the firelight of some tealight candles, they got around to past jobs.
Fujiko detailed in great lengths the money she made trouncing among the Japanese high society, Goemon shared stories of his samurai training, even Jigen talked about a few of the more interesting high rollers he bodyguarded for. Lupin knocked back about a double shot’s worth of scotch straight from the bottle, he stood abruptly and very cheerfully asked, “Have I ever told you guys about my first heist as ‘Lupin The Third?’” The answer came in a small chorus of ‘No’s and judging by the interested glimmer in Fujiko’s eyes, Goemon’s curious head tilt, and Jigen’s barely visible cocked brow, everyone wanted to hear the story. Good, because he was going to tell it anyway.
Lupin cleared his throat dramatically, “I’ll start by saying I was a bit late to the game, compared to Ol’ Gramps and my dad. But they both started under ten, and my dad had wanted me to grow up on the ‘straight and narrow.’” Lupin paused as Fujiko giggled, “Now, picture this, I’m thirteen, it’s almost Christmas and-” he gestured wildly as he spoke, he’d step up on the coffee table as he told his gang about the backstory of the warhead and the ransom to the government -which he admitted he learned about after the heist, but it was important set up.
When he gets to the part that actually details when he became an active player, he pulled Jigen to stand, “So there we were, on the roof, and - Hey Jigen, point your gun at me-” Jigen did as he was asked slowly. Hesitantly. His hand was steady despite the flush of alcohol visible on his skin, but he kept his finger off the trigger. Lupin stepped a few feet away and continued his story, “And he’s telling me to go back to being a normal rich kid, and I’m all ‘fuck that!’ but then Shinobou showed up and pointed a gun at him!”
He couldn’t help but bask in the ‘ooh’s and ‘ah’s from his captive audience. When he looked at Jigen, there still wasn’t any trace of what Lupin wanted to see in his body language yet, however, but he figured if he played his cards right he could get a huge pay off. “I get between ‘em, words are exchanged, and he mentions that going against a challenge is what really makes him feel alive. Up to that point, I had been questioning what I wanted to do with my life, follow in Gramps’ footsteps and become a thief, or do what Dad and Shinobou wanted and live a normal, by the book life, but… Right then, I realized I could do neither, instead of stealing for the sake of fame and money, or being bored to death just coasting on my inheritance, I could chase what I want.”
Goemon and Fujiko seemed to be on the edge of their seats, waiting to hear what the big reveal would be. But Jigen… Jigen. Lupin’s chest swelled with excitement and he flexed his fingers to burn a little bit of that energy. Jigen’s gun was still trained unshakingly on Lupin’s head, the rest of his stance poised and ready to absorb the recoil of the heavy handgun, one hand held palm down not far away from the hammer, something he hasn’t had to do in years now that his gun wasn’t too big for him. His face was awash with recollection, and Lupin realized he needed to wrap this story up if he’s going to get to the good part before he gets either yelled at or pistol whipped.
“So, I declared to the world then, that I would commit my first theft as Lupin The Third,” Lupin grinned. He took one step toward Jigen, “While Gramps started at six with a jewel, and Dad started around ten with a gun…” Another step, Jigen’s fingers were twitching on the grip of his Magnum, his jaw was clenched in the way that looked like he was biting the inside of his cheek. “I started at thirteen,” Lupin placed his hand on Jigen’s chest, right over his rapidly beating heart, “With the heart of Daisuke Jigen.”
He pulled his hand away and clenched it into a fist, Lupin couldn’t help the dopey smile that took over his face, “Was I able to steal it?” He asked, echoing his younger self.
Jigen’s arm dropped, he stuffed his gun back into his waistband and pulled his fedora down over his face and turned his head in a futile attempt to hide his wide eyes and slack jaw. “Yeah…” He answered with a sharp exhale, his lips curled into a small smile, “Yeah I, I’d say so.”
Fujiko wolf whistled and Goemon applauded politely, which seemed to snap Jigen back to the present and he grabbed Lupin by his lapels and shook him, “You asshole! That was you wasn’t it!”
All Lupin could do was laugh, “It’s not my fault your memory sucks! I told you we met at school!”
“Did you have to reveal it like that? In front of people!? Did you only find me in New York because of that!?” Jigen was still shouting and shaking Lupin, neither noticed as Fujiko slowly led Goemon off to one of the suite’s bedrooms. They figured they could at least try to get some sleep while those two worked out whatever they needed to get out of their system.
After Lupin had been, according to Jigen’s ever changing standards, adequately chewed out for daring to have a better memory of their childhood, he took Jigen’s hat off his head and dropped it on his own. Lupin only grinned as Jigen’s grip tightened on his jacket.
“Arsène Lupin,” Jigen all but growled, the curve of a smile was still visible on his face, Lupin hummed inquisitively back, “You will be the death of me.” And then he kissed him.