Title: A Measure of Respect
Author: AstroKender
Anime: Lupin the Third
Pairings: None
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Spoilers: None.
Notes: In order to combat the months' worth of writer's block I seem to be experiencing, this is an effort to get something, anything, out of my head and onto the computer screen. Not long and definitely not my greatest work, but I celebrate the accomplishment of actually finishing even the smallest of stories.
Feedback: Hell, pick one and hopefully it'll work.
Disclaimers: I don't own Lupin the Third. I'm not that cool. The characters used are manipulated for entertainment purposes only and are in no way used for profit.
A Measure of Respect
He stands there calmly, not saying a word. Just looking out to the horizon where his life's obsession has disappeared once more. He doesn't shout; he doesn't curse. He doesn't cuff us upside the head, even though it was probably due to some error of ours that allowed for the infamous Lupin the Third to escape yet again.
Instead he turns to us and nods, as he fumbles in his coat for the expensive imported cigarettes he has recently been seen smoking; by some coincidence the same brand that is known to be smoked by the criminal Jiggen Daisuke. Some of the boys and I have a suspicion of where he got them, though we would never speak of it within our Commander's range of hearing.
"Good job, men." His gruff voice coughs out the words in a cloud of smoke. "Why don't you head back to town and relax for the night. We'll return to headquarters tomorrow."
As he turns once more to the horizon, where the sun is just beginning to set, most of the other officers disperse. They make their way to their vehicles, stretching and laughing and joking about how close they, personally, had come to apprehending their slippery target. The roar of engines breaks through the still country air as the others depart, mostly likely heading to the nearest bar to celebrate their imaginary victories.
A few of us remain though, the loyal ones, who have been on the Lupin case for almost as long as our Commander. It's been over ten years since Police Inspector Zenigata had been assigned to catch the notorious Lupin the Third. Ten years of elusive escapes and near misses that would turn any other man bitter with incompetence.
But not our Inspector. We stand behind Mr. Zenigata, respectfully silent as he goes over in his mind the day's events. Of what could have been done differently and what had been just crazy enough to work. For the Commander, what backed him was not ten years of failure, but ten years of experience fueled with the knowledge that no other man knew our quarry better than he himself.
As he stands there, puffing miserly at that small stick of tobacco, he gives no verbal acknowledgment of our presence. Not a smile or even a nod at our faithfulness. But the glint in his eyes as he off-handily regards us makes us straighten our shoulders and I can't help the pride that swells in my heart. I watch as my comrades' faces express the same sentiment, each silently vowing to try even harder when we next resume the chase.
It's a strange relationship those two have, the Inspector and the thief he has been ordered to catch. You wouldn't think that the greatest of enemies could almost seem like the closest of friends at times. Lord knows our Commander would never admit to it, would any of us be bold enough to ask.
But those few of us who have been with Mr. Zenigata the longest know that, though unspoken, that camaraderie is there. Though it's not something you could tell so noticeably. Their actions and words certainly don't give it away, that's for certain.
It's their eyes, I think. During a confrontation their eyes always hold that measure of respect that goes beyond the cop and robber stereotype.
The Lupin gang isn't even all that bad, really. So none of us would object should their non-professional association ever come out in the open. Thieves or no, they've helped us out on occasion, revealing the truly crooked and dangerous criminals hiding under the surface of society. The Commander's office is strewn with awards and certificates of valor for apprehending scum that even the most powerful government officials couldn't capture; most of whom were caught only with the under-the-table assistance of Lupin the Third and his gang.
They're not such a bad sort, Lupin and the rest. Hell, we've even shared a few drinks with them on the rare occasion when events of the world seemed particularly slow. But the nights of good-natured companionship end with the morning, as we don our roles with our uniforms. With the badges pinned to our chests comes the sworn vow to capture Lupin the Third and his companions, regardless of our personal views. Each day we try our very hardest to fulfill that vow.
But thankfully, our hardest never seems to be quiet enough.
The sun sets, the horizon disappearing as craftily as the thief that had vanished into it. By some unspoken agreement my remaining fellows head toward their cars, ready to join their comrades. They each salute the Commander's back before departing and somehow Mr. Zenigata knows this, for his head inclines in acknowledgment as each hand falls back to its owner's side.
The Inspector stubs out his cigarette on the bottom of his shoe, storing the butt in a random pocket to be properly disposed of later. A slightly bow-legged gait brings him to the passenger side of my cruiser, signaling he was ready to go. As his gnarled hand opens the door I give him my best salute and the most faithful words I can offer.
"We'll definitely get him next time, Sir."
His eyes meet my own and he nods, a small smile flitting across his the narrow line of his lips.
"We'll get him next time." He confirms, his eyes flashing with a small hint of the same respect that he shows his lifelong nemesis and I smile in return, pride once more blooming in my chest.
Because I am an officer of Police Inspector Zenigata, and I will follow him wherever he goes.