|| Lupin The Third || Oneshots

TRASH: Yes I'm Lupin (L x J)

(Welcome to the trash series: stories I wrote but never revised so the story structure may be trash:
Short/choppy ending)

(Green vs. Red references/influence, Lupin Zero reference)

"Guh...." Jigen pants, his hands on his knees though his fingers grasping his gun. The smell of iron in the windowless room is sickening.

Yet the silence is what's deafening.

I am done. I gotta get outta here.

Jigen surpasses blood soaked red and turquoise jackets, and heads up the stairs. He shuts the cellar doors that led to the basement of the abandoned house.

The gunman lets out a hefty sigh. He stares at his shadowed silhouette, flashbacks flickering in his eyes.

This is hard.

Jigen let's out another, shaky breath. Patting his pant pockets, a pack of cigarettes missing. No means to calm himself down.

Shit.
This is fucking hard.

His hands balled into fists, which quiver as his face boils up.

No, no. Breathe.

Jigen breath has quickened, his heart not resting quite yet. Some adrenaline is still steady with no where to go other than his head. His memories. His heart. His eyes prickle with tears.

Fuck.

"Oi—Jigen!"

Huh?

The gunman flinches and twists around towards the open doorway. The double doors of the abandoned casino were wide open, a gust of wind with dead leaves and the clouded sunlight inviting themselves in.

There stood Lupin with crossed arms and a fancy grin.

Another one.
Jigen quickly drew his weapon, turning around to stand his ground. His Italian suit painted red, his face stained and the smell of iron being his cologne.

"Haven't seen you in a while."
Lupin greets.

"I wouldn't say it was too long." Jigen says cooly.
"That is.. if you are Lupin."

No reaction in return. Jigen raises a brow. Lupin is intrigued by the cold demeanor and paranoia, only smiling in return without budging back. In fact, Lupin slowly puts his hands back into his pockets and takes a step forward.

"What? You don't recognize an old friend?"
Lupin taunts.

"Tch." Jigen held his ground as Lupin's shoes clacked forward. As much as he could anyway.

The footsteps echoed in the empty space, making everything outside quiet. The close Lupin became, the more uneasy Jigen felt. Every clack of those shows was a shiver down Jigens spine. Second guessing. Hesitation. Resentment. Paranoia.
Fear.

Is it really him?
They all looked... so much alike....
I can't shoot another one.
I just can't.

Jigen could hear his heart beating in his ears.

I want this to be over.

Lupin halts awfully close, with the guns tip poking at his chest, pinning down his golden tie. The thief grins with a daring stare that hinders Jigen's hidden gaze.

"What's the matter, Jigen dearest?" Lupin asks with a low, androgynously intimidating voice.
"Cat's got your tongue?"

"S-Say something only I know!"
Jigen yells in demand.