Lupin III Fan Fiction ❯ Smoke Trail ❯ Prelude - Guilty by Association ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Lupin III. I'd most likely be a lot richer if I did.

 

Author's Notes: I started this story a year ago but it somehow got left behind on the road of life. I'm currently resurrecting it for the time being, whether or not I continue it is up to how much inspiration I get seeing as I don't watch Lupin III anymore. If I do continue this story, the updates will most like be slow in coming seeing as how I'm gonna have to come up with a plot for this thing. I've a vague idea how I want this to go but I'll take awhile to work out the details. If anyone knows Lupin, Jigen, Goemon, Zenigata, and Fugica's full names (and the correct spellings of them ^^;) then please send them in via a review. Thanks! ^^

 

Summery: Aithne has always been marked by the stigma her name carried. Now one man's greed destroyed her only chance to break from her family's mold. Watch as she finally finds her place at her brother's side and a love that she would never have expected.

 

Prelude - Guilty by Association

 

The courtroom was stiflingly hot on its own but add to that the multitude of people who came to this particular trial made it unbearable. The jury's foreman had told their decision and the judge had brought his gravel down like a lead weight making the decision so.

 

People were on their feet now, all yelling, trying to be heard over everyone else while the gravel sounded like gun shots through the crowd as the judge called for order. Many of them, she realized, were, or rather, had been her colleagues. They were angry and delusional, wanting to believe this was all a dream they could wake up from.

 

A sad smile pulled at her lips for a moment before she allowed her eyes to drift back down to her clasped hands resting on her lap. She accepted the truth for what it was. She had no choice, really, not with who she was. Her lips twitched again, whether it was a self mocking smile or something else entirely she wasn't sure. All she really know was that his was her fears come to life. It needn't have been this particular scenario since many could have brought about this same outcome. She was now without a job. A single tear slipped down her cheek as she pulled herself away from where her thoughts were headed and onto the safer territory of the trial's effects.

 

Guilty. The one word that could condemn so many. The one word that could, and did, shatter her own world and many more like it had been spoken.

 

So this was American justice. Didn't they know how many innocence they pulled down along with the guilty with just that one word? How many? How many would be deprived of jobs because of this? For many, they jobs they had held were a new beginning. Now that beginning had been destroyed just because they had been used as pawns for another man's greed.

 

Tired brown eyes closed and burdened shoulders slumped another fraction. What of her now? The question forced it's way to the forefront despite her attempt to keep her thoughts away from herself. It had been a miracle that she had gotten her job at all because of her surname. Now that there was this against her as well, finding another job would be impossible for her.

 

A soft sigh drifted passed dry, cracked lips. She stood no chance now. She had battled life with all that she could but life still won. It was over. Eyes that were once so full of life seemed to dull at this realization and seemed to gain a calmness one who has accepted death gained as acceptance of it's truth settled in. Yes, it was over.

 

A rustle of clothing and a soft chuckled drew her attention from her thoughts to the man across the aisle between the two sections of pews. Inspector Zenigata. An ironic smile twisted her lips. She wondered if he know of the small victory he just won. No, he wouldn't. It was doubtful that he would ever know that he, in a small way at least, was connected to this tragedy.

 

A tragedy? Yes, that's what this was. The guilty had caused a train wreck and she, and so many others along with her, had been pulled unwillingly along for the ride. A cold smile stretched across her lips this time. She wondered what the “death count” would be for this particular train wreck. So far the count was one.

 

--End--