(One shot, Jiglup, cw: mentions of death, major character death.) lupin reflects in his old age
Lupin liked the idea of dying a dramatic, explosive way as a young man, rather than aging. To be remembered at his peak, at his glory days, to be triumphant to the end and never forgotten.
So he still surprised how content he is now, when he was the one of the last of the gang that remained.
Fujiko had gone first, because of course the thing she would steal from him last would be the idolized way he expected to go. A beautiful tragedy until the very end, where she left the world with no trace of the mystery beneath, shot out of the sky during a heist. Sitting on the porch, he looked up at the clouds and sighed. Many an ex of hers mourned, and several movie producers went to start making movies about the events. Dramatized, of course. Inaccurate, of course. Everything Fujiko would have loved. Lupin smiled to himself, and waved to the clouds with an old cane. “I can only hope you’re happy up there.”
“Lupin? Who are you talking to?” Came a voice from inside.
“Fujicakes, dear.” He smiled at the gruff voice. “I know not even the devil could keep her from scamming her way into heaven. I’m just hoping she saved me a ticket!”
Jigen gave an audible groan, stepping out onto the porch, scraping along a walker. Thirty years, needed oxygen to get around the house, and a walker, but he was still a sharp enough shot to give Lupin a glare beneath his hat. “Broad’s been dead for about 30 years and you’re still on about her? And what’s this about heaven? You’re not going anywhere yet, and even if you do the only place you are going aint up.”
Lupin laughed, the same laugh they’d been hearing for years, before he felt a kink in his back and had to stop with a wheeze. He felt a hand rub over his back, as Jigen lowered himself into a chair besides him. “Believe me, I know. But hey, if she gets there, with her, Goemon, and pops? We got a solid chance of breaking in.”
He heard Jigen snort a wheezing laugh, before leaning back in the chair. He reached a calloused hand out, and Lupin didn’t even need to think. He reached over and took it in his own, holding the aged fingers in his own.