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Chapter Text

Klavier Gavin is 24 years old.

He passed the Bar two years ago and earned his badge, but due to unforeseen circumstances, he has yet to have his first trial.

His coworkers at the Justice Law Offices have offered to let him co-counsel in their trials, but he's refused repeatedly, saying he's content with dealing with the paperwork and filing the cases at the office, though he'd occasionally join them in trips to the detention center or to crime scenes. 

He's only ever taken a step in the courtroom perhaps once or twice in his life, the last time being the catalyst of his fear of returning. 

Despite this, he admires his coworkers for the work they do, more so his employer, Thalassa Gramarye Justice, the so-called "Coolest Defense in the West", her ability to stay calm and collected in trials admired throughout the legal world. When he files her cases, he always takes a moment to read through it carefully, learning second-hand from the trial transcripts. 

He was content with this.

Sure, it isn't exactly the most ambitious, as he did have his own ambitions before, when he was much younger, but for now, he was content.

All of that was about to change, however, when Mrs. Justice came by his desk and asked him to accompany her to the detention center to meet a new client.

Klavier packed a few of his belongings, bringing along a notebook and a pen before accompanying the older woman to the detention center, where he would meet the legendary Miles Edgeworth for the first time ever.

Chapter Text

He’s been pacing the lobby for a few minutes.

The files were clutched in his hands as he paced back and forth, occasionally letting go of the manila folder to quickly wipe his hands of sweat before reading over them for the nth time. His eyebrows were furrowed as his eyes scanned over the words printed on the legal sized paper repeatedly, muttering them under his breath in hopes that they would be etched into his mind somehow.

If it weren’t obvious enough, Klavier Gavin was nervous.

At 24 years old, he’s about to have his very first trial as a defense attorney. Most would find this odd, as usually, he would’ve had his first trial a little earlier. Two years earlier, to be exact. And he really would have, if it weren’t for certain things happening.

He tugged at his burgundy suit jacket, almost tempted to undo a few buttons on his black dress shirt to loosen him up at least a little.

The thought of stepping foot into a courtroom sent a shiver down his spine, cold sweat already forming as he frowned at the files in his hand like they wronged him in some way.

“Good morning!” A cheerful greeting snapped him out of his reverie, causing him to flinch before quickly turning around to face Thalassa Justice, his boss and co-counsel for today. The artificial light caught on the diamond shaped buttons of her pastel blue suit jacket, shining off of the gold bangle that clung to her right wrist, and the attorney’s badge pinned carefully on her lapel. 

She gave him a curt smile, and he returned with one of his own. “G-good morning, Frau Justice.” He cringed as his voice betrayed his pseudo-calm demeanor, bringing a hand to his throat.

The older woman chuckled, adjusting the yellow shawl that hung loosely on her forearms. “You seem tense, Gavin. Wound up tight,” she said, raising an eyebrow. The young defense attorney adjusted his grip on the case files he held, “Ach. I’ll be fine, Frau Justice. I just…” A nervous chuckle left him as he shook his head, readjusting the braid that rested over his shoulder. “I suppose I’m just not sure I can do this…” 

Thalassa’s smile morphed into something more genuine, approaching Klavier and placing a hand on his arm, patting it. “You’ll do just fine, Gavin. If you need help, I’ll be right beside you, alright?” she reassured him, her motherly aura calming the younger defense attorney. “Danke schön.” He nodded his head in appreciation.

Seeing that he was loosened up a little, Thalassa withdrew, nodding as well. “I suppose I understand why you’d be so nervous… your first trial, and it’s a homicide.” She hummed, clasping her hands together.

Klavier gave another chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “I guess I’m just a little ambitious.” He attempted to jest, then realizing he just made himself just a little more nervous. He should’ve declined in taking this case, but his client asked for him specifically . 

He couldn’t exactly say no to him.

“Well, I suppose so… Ah, but I came to give you a few reminders, if you don’t mind?” The curt smile returned to her features as she looked at him. “I’m sure any reminders would help me a great bit.” He nodded, finally putting the files in his hand down. 

The senior defense attorney nodded as well, now crossing her arms. 

“As you know, your client today is a good friend of mine. He’s helped me quite a lot, so I wouldn’t want to let him down.” Her eyes drifted momentarily to the golden band on her left ring finger before she continued. “As it happens, I dined with him the night of the murder.” She looked back to him, “We can’t let this case fall through.”

Klavier gulped.

“I… I understand. I’ll try my best!” He flinched as his voice cracked again, clearing his throat afterwards. “One more thing,” she continued, an amused smile forming on her face. “Perhaps you should try doing some vocal exercises. My son does it quite a lot in the morning, he says it helps with nerves as well,” she says, looking up thoughtfully. “I see… I’ll try to remember.” He smiled sheepishly.

Thalassa gave him another nod. “I’ll be preparing our case. You should try talking to your client, see if there’s anything he’d like to say to you.” She turned and left the defendant lobby shortly afterwards.

Klavier watched her leave before turning around as well, eyes landing on the man in the faded magenta blazer, seated calmly on the couch, hair pulled into a bun and secured by what looked like a red ribbon, and his arms crossed over a pressed dress shirt . He turned away again, the nervousness returning.

He didn’t get to talk to him much when they first met in the detention center, as most of the conversation was between Thalassa and the client, while he just sat beside her to take some notes down. He supposed that perhaps now would be a good time to talk, while they were waiting for the trial to begin.

Though, instead of walking over and sitting next to him, the client walked up to him instead, startling Klavier when he turned around again. “Ah! Good morning…” He began, moving his hands behind him in an attempt to look less tense. 

There was a beat before the grey-haired man nodded. “Good morning.”

Another beat. And then silence.

Was he supposed to say something? He racked his brain for something, anything to break the sudden awkward silence that drifted between them--

“Gavin, yes?” The baritone voice saved him from thinking any further, and he let out an internal sigh of relief. “Ah, yes sir,” he replied. “Hm.” He nodded, crossing his arms.

Silence.

“Sir...if I may…?” Klavier began. The man raised an eyebrow, immediately intimidating the defense attorney. Taking this as a sign to continue, he took a deep breath. “Why did you choose me to represent you?” he asked, his thumb rubbing the material of the folder he was holding. “Frau Justice is a top-notch defense attorney. And you are friends, yes? So why…” He trailed off when he noticed his client looking off in the distance. 

He frowned, raising an eyebrow. “Sir..?” “You’ll see.” He cuts him off, looking back at him. “You’ll be fine, right? Be confident.” Klavier pursed his lips, confused at the man’s confidence in his abilities. 

Sensing that his question would most likely never be answered, he dropped the topic. 

Another bout of silence before he spoke up again, “I’m sorry this all happened to you… I mean--” “It’s time.” The man cut him off again, adjusting the glasses that rested on his nose. “Shall we?” he looked to Klavier, but did not wait for him before leaving the defendant lobby. 

He left the defense attorney to stare at the doors as they swung closed. 

This is it. Klavier thought, looking down at the folder he held. It was now or never, he’d actually be stepping into court again for the first time in years. If anything goes wrong… he gulped. No, nothing will go wrong. I’ll be fine. He’ll be fine.

After all, Frau Justice had his back, didn’t she?

“Court is now in session.”

Klavier took deep breaths from behind the defense’s bench, not looking up from the files that were on the table before him. He could feel Thalassa’s gaze on him, but whether she was looking at him in judgement or concern, he couldn’t tell.

When all he could hear was silence, he felt his employer nudge him lightly, and he looked up, seeing the courtroom’s eyes on him. He took a moment before he realized they were waiting for him to say something. “Ah! The... the defense is ready, Your Honor!” Klavier said, straightening up.

He could see the prosecutor smirk from the corner of his eye, and he gulped when he heard Thalassa sigh softly. 

Maybe he should’ve been paying attention.

“Your name was… Mr. Gavin? And this is your first trial?” The judge turned his head to look at him, and he nodded in response. “Yes, Your Honor. But, I’ll be fine!” He gave the judge a nervous grin, twiddling his thumbs behind his back.

“You received your badge two years ago, right? Why have your first trial now?” The older man continued to ask, leaning forward on his podium. Ah. There’s the question. Klavier thought to himself, hand reaching to touch the badge secured on the lapel of his jacket. “...Personal reasons, Your Honor,” he said, holding back the urge to sigh.

The judge nodded slowly, before turning his head slightly towards Thalassa. “Right then... Ms. Justice?” He addressed the older attorney, who gave him a curt smile. “Yes, Your Honor?” she replied. “I was under the impression that you would be heading up this case…?” He raised one bushy eyebrow, Klavier could see him glancing his way. He bowed his head slightly to avoid his gaze.

“That was my intention, yes. However… a defense attorney must always cede to their client’s wishes.” Klavier turned his head to see his mentor nod, readjusting her shawl once again. “It just so happened that my client specifically requested Mr. Gavin.” She then motioned to Klavier, who looked to the judge once again.

The judge looked taken aback, and more confused than he already was. “But… to entrust his case to this greenhorn…” He gestured to the younger attorney, “...Why? I do not exaggerate when I say that you’re the best defense attorney in town, Ms. Justice.”

Klavier watched a small flush reach Thalassa’s face as she chuckled. Flattered, he supposed. 

The judge, who seemed satisfied with the brief chit-chat, pounded his gavel on the block. “Then, let’s begin. The defendant may enter the courtroom.”

The doors behind the witness podium opened, the bailiff leading the magenta-clad man onto the stand. The oath was given, and the bailiff let him be, taking their place at the door.

Klavier heard the judge sigh. “This is truly an unfortunate turn of events… I’m sorry we had to meet again under these circumstances,” he said, shaking his head.

“Long time no see, Mr. Edgeworth.”

Miles Edgeworth, former Ace Attorney, and Klavier’s legal idol, merely pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “The past is the past, Your Honor. Let us put it behind us,” he told the judge, glasses glinting in the artificial lighting.

Klavier frowned as he watched his idol cross his arms, internally questioning the chain of events that led them to this very moment.

The judge nodded solemnly. “I won’t speak of it further then.” He turned to the prosecutor on the other side of the room. “If the prosecution would be so kind as to explain the charges… Mr. Payne?”

Payne chuckled, shaking his head. “To think, I saw you enter this room a fresh attorney, and now I’ll see you leave in chains,” he said, sneering at the former attorney. The latter merely tilted his nose upwards. “Gaspen Payne. Subtle as ever,” he replied. Klavier watched Edgeworth clutch the fabric of his jacket tightly.

Payne’s opening statements passed like a blur to Klavier. 

The crime occured at the Borscht Bowl Club, where Edgeworth worked as a pianist (“Miles Edgeworth… A pianist?” The judge had muttered, but Klavier could hear him clearly from where he was). The murder weapon was a bottle of grape juice that was bashed against the victim’s forehead. The bottle was then accepted into evidence.

When asked about a motive, Prosecutor Payne produced a black and white photo of the crime scene, showing a game of poker, as well as the victim, Jane Enigmar. When it was presented, the judge’s eyes widened in surprise, adding that poker was a gambling game, and gambling was a crime in and of itself.

Klavier began sweating bullets at this, opening and closing his mouth as he tried to think of a way to excuse this, but thankfully, Thalassa stepped in, objecting and stating that the game did not involve money, and was merely competition (“A test of wits, a silent clash of passions… Only the cards, their backs wreathed in blue flame, know its final outcome.” “...Er, come again…?” “The cards on the table had blue blacks, Your Honor. I believe the defense was waxing poetic in an attempt to mystify those present....” Thalassa muttered something under her breath at this comment from the prosecution).

After hearing the opening statement, the judge nodded. “That will be our first order of business here then: To find out more about this fatal game of cards.”  He stated, raising his gavel. Klavier watched as Edgeworth rolled his head around his shoulders, sighing. His attention returned to the judge when the gavel hit the block, however.

“Very well, Defendant. You will testify to the court about the poker competition held the night of the crime,” the judge ordered, looking at the man on the witness stand. 

A small smile snuck its way into Edgeworth’s features. “Of course, Your Honor.”

Thalassa placed a hand on Klavier’s arm again, nodding when he turned to face her. He nodded as well, taking a deep breath and exhaling it. “This is it…”  he muttered to himself, before looking back to the former Ace Attorney for his testimony.

Chapter Text

“...Ergo! Fraulein Orly conspired to cheat, not with my client… but with the victim, Jane Enigmar!” 

Klavier snapped his fingers before pointing to the witness on the stand, watching her gasp, the bowl in her hand shaking as her arm quivered. Orly sunk further down the witness stand, her face only barely seen underneath the Russian hat on her head.

He seemed to have hit the nail on the head, letting out a breath he never knew he was holding. 

Don’t drop the ball don’t drop the ball don’t drop the ball- “Not only did she cheat, she cheated poorly!” He continued on, slamming a hand onto the desk in front of him. “Therefore! It’s not difficult to imagine an altercation between her and the victim…” 

The gallery let out a gasp, the prosecution shrieking in confusion, and even the judge seemed bewildered. “Wait, you don’t mean…” He began, before leaning forward, towards Klavier, “...The defense isn’t accusing the witness, Ms. Olga Orly… are you?”

The courtroom’s eyes were on him now, his mentor looking at him expectantly. He drew in a breath before nodding. “I am! The defense accuses the witness, Ms. Olga Orly…” He once again pointed to the witness, just for extra flair, “...of murder!”

The gallery burst into energy at the accusation, Orly letting out a shriek of her own before fainting, the bowl of borscht she was holding miraculously balancing itself on the witness stand.

The judge called for order, banging his gavel against the block as the bailiff carefully carried the witness outside the courtroom. Klavier watched Prosecutor Payne looking through his files in panic. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder squeeze it, his head turning to see his mentor nod in approval. 

Within the last two or so hours (time lost its meaning the longer the trial continued), he managed to disprove the prosecution’s motive of Edgeworth losing the poker game and lashing out in anger (turns out, he was winning the entire time, they were just counting the chips wrong!), disproved the witness’ accusation of the defendant strangling the victim (he was just removing the ribbon from her neck, which looked oddly similar to the one that was keeping his hair in a bun), and might have even uncovered Orly’s true identity as a professional cheater (Thalassa did, but a win for the defense, nonetheless), and as an accomplice to Enigmar.

All in all, he thought he did a pretty good job.

Once the courtroom finally calmed down, the judge let out a breath. “Mr. Payne, where is your witness, Ms. Olga Orly?” he asked, head turning to the prosecutor. Said prosecutor gulped, sweating bullets before answering, “It appears she lost, eh.... Consciousness, Your Honor.” Klavier watched him swallow with a triumphant grin.

“Hmm… Mr. Gavin?” “Your Honor!” His head snapped towards the judge, hands on the desk once again. “It seems you’ve presented a new possibility to the court.” The judge picked up his gavel once again, “One suggesting a connection between the witness and the victim, Ms. Enigmar.”

At those words, he perked up, his grin widening. “And that means…?” He prodded, leaning forward. “The court cannot pronounce a verdict for the defendant at this time!”

He let out a sigh of relief as the prosecution gave yet another ear-piercing screech. Thalassa gave him a pat on the back. “You did well, Gavin,” she said quietly, and he gave a smile in return. “Thank you, Frau Justice.”

“I see no point in prolonging the trial this day. The prosecution will need to make further inquiries-”

“Objection!”

His blood ran cold. He could recognize that objection anywhere, he just never thought he’d hear it now of all times. He turned to his client, who was standing from his seat, hands firmly gripping the wooden partition in front of him. “Herr Edgeworth…” he began, looking at the former Ace Attorney in bewilderment.

There was a moment of silence as the courtroom stared at the defendant, waiting for him to speak. 

“...You cannot end the trial here, Your Honor. Not yet,” he said, looking up to the judge.The prosecutor sputtered, slamming his hands onto the table. “What nonsense is the defendant spewing now!?” He shrieked, eyebrows furrowed. Edgeworth looked towards Payne, one hand gesturing to the table where the evidence was laid out. “Use your head for once, would you? One of the cards had a different colored back. Does that not raise questions?” He argued, pushing his glasses up with a finger.

The prosecutor raised an objection, Klavier flinching at the pitch. “Wh-what are you doing, Mr. Edgeworth!? Raising objections when you’re about to get off the hook!? Ridiculous!” 

“Mr. Payne, you of all people should know… Mr. Edgeworth has a talent… for the ridiculous!” The judge sighed, shaking his head. Klavier wished he didn’t agree with him, after all, he followed Edgeworth’s trials closely back when he was still a student.

He admired Edgeworth’s stubborn drive in finding the truth, and his strong belief in his clients. 

He just wished he wasn’t so goddamn stubborn right now as he brought a hand to rub his face, sighing. Even Thalassa looked done with Edgeworth’s antics as she shook her head.

The gavel banged against the block once again. “Perhaps we should get to the bottom of things, let’s clear up the facts about the game that fateful night.” Klavier sighed, running a hand through his hair before reaching to rearrange the files on the table.

How much he wanted to not to stand another minute in this courtroom, already feeling exhausted from the few hours he was standing. He adjusted his stance, juggling his weight between his left and right foot, feeling exactly how sore they were for standing for so long in dress shoes.

“Just a little longer, Gavin,” the elder attorney said to him, readjusting the shawl she wore. “We’ll be fine.” she reassured him. Klavier nodded, repeating the phrase under his breath.

The bailiff led Edgeworth to the witness stand, taking the borscht bowl off of it as well before returning to their post at the door. The former attorney crossed his arms. 

“As was said before, we alternated between two decks of cards that night...” Edgeworth began, Klavier heard the prosecution protest, but decided alongside the rest of the courtroom to ignore him. 

Edgeworth went on to explain that both decks had different colored backs, blue and red, to avoid the decks from getting mixed (which seemed off to Klavier, since the colors got mixed up in the victim’s hand anyway). He explained that the red deck was in use for the game. Both he and the judge thought they were using the blue deck (after all, didn’t someone mention they were blue…? He heard Thalassa hum from beside him).

Nevertheless, a blue card slipped into the deck, and clearly indicated that someone was cheating. 

Edgeworth then looked to the youngest attorney in the room, asking… “When was the card swapped?”. Klavier raised an eyebrow, raising a hand to his chin. “There are three broad possibilities: Before, during...or after the murder,” he continued, raising three fingers. A silver band on his ring finger shone in the light.

The prosecution scoffed, but Edgeworth snarked right back before facing Klavier once again. “Klavier.” The attorney jumped at being addressed by his first name. “When do you think the cards were swapped?”

He thought about it carefully. It’d be impossible to switch the cards during the murder, as during was pretty general in and of itself (during the reveal of the cards? The moment the bottle came crashing down?), and it’d be impossible to not catch the act if it was slipped before the murder, as the blue would contrast the red clear as day.

So if it wasn’t before, or during the murder, then that would leave…

“Perhaps it happened… after the murder…?” He proposed, looking back to the former attorney, who smiled. 

“Objection!” Prosecutor Payne yelled out. “That’s ridiculous! What’s the point of cheating after the hands have been shown? That’s silly-!”

“Objection!” Klavier slammed a fist onto the wall behind him. “But tell me, how do you propose you can swap the cards during the game!?” He crossed his arms, shaking his head. “I’ll take ‘silly’ over ‘impossible’!”

“Objection!” The prosecutor looked beyond finished at this point. “Take it from me, son-” Please don’t call me that. Klavier grimaced “-There’s a lot of silly in this world, but very little impossible.”

“Is that so?” Klavier raised an eyebrow, leaning forward from his position to see eye to eye with the prosecutor. “Even when the backs of the cards are a different color?? If you pulled that during the game-” He pointed a finger to the prosecution, “-You’d be caught in no time at all!” 

He heard the judge make a sound of realization as he raised a hand to his beard thoughtfully. Edgeworth gave his signature pose, complete with smirk, arms open, palms upwards as he shook his head. “Quite true. That would mean that the blue card in question… was swapped after the hands were shown, after the murder!”

The prosecution continued to argue his point, that switching the cards after the game was over was insane , and who in their right mind would do that?!

And so the next question was raised, indeed who in their right mind would switch the cards once the deed was done?

It couldn’t have been Edgeworth, it couldn’t have been Orly either, since she was the one dealing the cards.

So Klavier proposed that it would’ve been an unseen fourth party. Edgeworth seemed to agree, but his mentor on the other hand…

“But that can’t be right…” she began, catching Klavier’s attention. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to name Ms. Orly, Gavin?” she asked, furrowing her eyebrows. Klavier frowned, shaking his head. “It would, but she was the one dealing the cards,” he explained, “I don’t believe she’d make such an amateur mistake of using the wrong color.” “And if the card was swapped during the game, it’d be obvious…” The judge voiced his thought, stroking his beard once again.

So they began to question who swapped the cards. 

Whoever did made two mistakes, according to Edgeworth;

“First, of course, would be swapping the wrong color card. This mystery person didn’t know that two colors of cards were being used. The other mistake… was the number on the card,” he explained, the whole courtroom listened in the edges of their seats, or toes in Klavier’s case. 

“This mystery person replaced the fifth ace with a king, they weren’t expecting it after all,” he continued, stepping off the witness stand towards the evidence table. “All they knew was that the game had been won with a full house. So they picked up a king from the table…” He picked up the bag that held the victim’s hand, presenting it to the court, “...And swapped it in.”

Prosecutor Payne gave yet another ear-splitting objection, Klavier frowned and brought a hand to his right ear, just to make sure he could still hear. “B-but! There’s one problem…” The prosecutor began, leaning so far forward that the young attorney thought he would tip over the edge, “...According to our case record, this person doesn’t exist!!”

Edgeworth looked at Payne before putting the bag back down. “That is true. But the possibility of a fourth party still exists.” He made his way back to the witness stand before the bailiff could come forward to do it themselves. “Though… it’s more than a possibility, as there was a fourth party that night.”

The courtroom began to chat amongst themselves, though Thalassa’s tired sigh could be clearly heard nonetheless. “It seems the judge spoke truthfully earlier. You do make trials ridiculous , Mr. Edgeworth,” she said, looking at the defendant with knitted eyebrows.

The judge brought his gavel down, silencing the gallery. “This trial has proceeded on one central assumption: namely, that, at the time of the incident, there were only three people in that room,” he began, closing his eyes as he recounted the events.

“I believe this new evidence, shall we say… overturns that assumption?” Edgeworth gave a smirk, looking up towards the judge. The older man frowned, glaring at Edgeworth. “The problem is that you chose to conceal this information from the court!” he scolded him, frowning.

The former attorney hummed, crossing his arms once again. “...I suppose that is a problem, yes…” 

The judge clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Court is adjourned for a brief recess!” Klavier gave a sigh of relief, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket. “Ms. Justice,” the judge looked to the defense, the addressed looking back towards him, “I’ll see you in my chambers during this recess.” Thalassa pursed her lips, but nodded. “Of course, Your Honor.”

“Very well! This trial will resume in twenty minutes!”

By the time they returned to the defendant lobby, Klavier was mentally exhausted , rubbing his shoulder once they got inside. He could hear his client and his mentor speaking briefly, just out of earshot as he sat down on the couch.

“Gavin.” Klavier jumped straight to attention when he was called, straightening up immediately. “Yes?” He moved to stand back up, but she raised a hand to stop him. “The judge has summoned me to his chambers, so please carry on without me.” And with that, she was gone.

Klavier took this moment to recollect his thoughts and rearrange his files, when he felt the couch shift to accommodate some extra weight. “You did well, Klavier.” Edgeworth tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder, and withdrew it just as quickly as he put it there. Klavier nodded in gratitude, when the close-up picture of the victim caught his eye.

He pulled the photo from the files, thumbing the spot where her neck was bare. “Herr Edgeworth… can I ask you something?” he began. The older of the two, raised an eyebrow. “The ribbon in your hair… is it truly yours?” 

Edgeworth reached over to touch said ribbon, pursing his lips. “My niece gave it to me. She has a similar one herself, though she doesn’t wear it all the time.”

“Your niece, huh…” The attorney nodded slowly, slipping the photo back into his files. “Perhaps you’ll meet her one of these days.” The other man continued, tightening the ribbon.

Silence drifted between the two before Klavier turned to face him. “Were you… were you the one who cheated that night?” he asked, eyebrows knitting in concern. The former attorney seemed unfazed as he raised an eyebrow. 

“Full of questions now, are we?” he said, crossing his arms. Klavier flushed, realizing he probably crossed a line. “It’s alright.” The older man seemed to have sense when he was about to apologize, turning away from him.

“It isn’t unreasonable for you to believe that I did. I’m sure you know what happened seven years ago,” he said, one hand fingering one of the lapels of his blazer. Where his attorney’s badge would be. Klavier realized.

Of course he knew of the events seven years ago. Everyone in the LA legal world knew what happened. It was hard to ignore news about the local so-called Ace Attorney getting disbarred for using forged evidence.

Many found it ironic that the lawyer that worked so hard for the truth turned out to be a liar himself, though Klavier always found the news hard to swallow.

Even now, he still can’t believe it, even when whatever was left of his idol was sitting right beside him.

“Did you notice?” He snapped out of his thoughts to look at the man, who suddenly spoke up. “Notice...what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Thalassa,” was all he said, now looking at him.

This only confused the young attorney more. “What about Frau Justice?” he pressed, eyes glancing over to the door leading out of the defendant lobby. “She flinches during certain parts of Orly’s testimony. Her eyes narrow as well,” Edgeworth explained, “Did you notice?” he repeated.

Klavier frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. “N-no… I wasn’t looking at her…” Edgeworth was beginning to cross the line between cryptic and creepy. He observed the man intently, but his body language didn’t betray anything. He was dead serious.

The former attorney hummed, looking away once again. “That’s fair. Just know that if she tells you someone is lying… believe her,” he said, standing up.

“What..?” “It’s time.” Edgeworth turned to face him properly, arms crossed. 

“The real trial begins now. Do your best.”

Chapter Text

Klavier was on the verge of a migraine.

“Did you, or did you not see the defendant swing the bottle at Enigmar, Fraulein?” He continued to press, narrowing his eyes at the woman on the witness stand. “Yes, I did, how many times do I have to repeat myself!?” Orly was getting frustrated, frowning at the defense attorney. 

He slammed his hands on the desk, looking at the witness. “But don’t you find that odd?” he pressed, raising an eyebrow. “Wh-what’s odd!?” She began glaring at him. “You searched the defendant, and yet you found nothing?” He glared right back, shaking his head. “That means he didn’t cheat, and therefore had no reason to strike the victim!”

Orly looked taken aback, “W-well…” she began. 

In just a few minutes, directly after court resumed, Orly had revealed herself to in fact, not be a meek and shy Russian, rather, she was a professional cheat, serving in LA casinos, helping different people win their jackpot in games of cards. Of course, her sudden change in personality, paired with the fact that she hasn't changed her testimony in one bit, only served to annoy Klavier even more. The change in demeanor only proved her to be more suspicious, yet she wouldn't budge at all.

He heard his mentor breathe sharply from beside him, and he turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow in concern. “Frau Justice..-” “Press her harder, Gavin.” She ordered, one hand clutching the wrist that held the golden bangle, which looked a little tighter than usual. 

Klavier was confused, his eyebrows knitting together when he caught Edgeworth’s gaze towards him. The older man nodded, raising a finger to tap his temple.

“Just know that if she tells you someone is lying…” Ah.. Klavier recalled his short conversation with his client in the lobby. Was this what he meant?

He looked towards the witness once again, who was looking at anywhere but him. “Fraulein,” he called, catching her attention. “You’re hiding something, aren’t you?” He pressed, leaning forward towards her. 

The witness let out a “Ha!”, though it sounded more nervous than taunting. “M-Me?? ‘Quick-Fingers’ Orly, hi-hide something?” She stuttered out, looking away from him again.

He didn’t need some kind of superhuman intuition to know she was lying.

The prosecution screamed out an objection, though he looked just as worried as the witness. “The defense will refrain from baseless accusations!” He huffed. Klavier frowned, looking back to Thalassa, who seemed to have recovered. 

“Perhaps you are unaware of it, Ms. Orly, but when you mention the moment of the crime, you touch the back of your neck, like you’re remembering something,” the older woman spoke up, stepping out from the defense’s bench towards the evidence table. The courtroom watched in bated breath as she picked up the murder weapon with a gloved hand. “Perhaps this is the memory you recall when pressed?” She presented the bottle towards the witness, who flinched at the sight of the bottle.

Everyone in the courtroom but Klavier and the witness seemed to understand what was going on, or how Thalassa seemed to know all this. Perhaps he should attend her trials after this to understand. “Wh-what’s this got to do with me seeing Wright braining Enigmar!? I swear I never took my eyes off him until the cops got there!” She argued, holding the witness stand tightly.

Klavier perked up at this, quickly raising an objection. “It would be impossible for you to have kept your eyes on the defendant, Fraulein. After all…” He scooted over, allowing Thalassa to step back behind the bench as he presented a file to Orly, “...He left the room to call the police from the first floor of the restaurant!”

Orly’s eyes widened at the file, gasping loudly. “So explain to the court how you can keep your eyes on the defendant, when he left the room entirely!” Klavier hammered the nail on the coffin, glaring at the witness.

The gallery began to chat amongst themselves, bursting with energy while the judge called for order. 

Klavier seized the opportunity to recollect himself while the judge tried to wrangle the courtroom back into order, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He still didn’t quite understand his mentor’s supposed ability, but he was glad that she could help when he was backed into a corner.

Once the courtroom settled down, Orly took a deep breath, her eyes fixed on the floor. “...The man who picked up a bottle and swung it that night…” she began, her eyebrows furrowed before she looked up, staring forward. “...wasn’t the defendant.”

The gallery once again gasped at this revelation, Klavier himself was surprised, even when his mentor and his client seemed unfazed. 

Orly explained that when Enigmar ordered to check Edgeworth’s pockets for the card she slipped in, and when the card was nowhere to be found, Enigmar was furious. In the fury, she picked up the bottle that was next to Edgeworth and threw it towards the dealer, who blacked out when the bottle struck her square in the head.

When she awoke, Enigmar was already dead.

“I couldn’t reveal who I really was,” she explained, crossing her arms. “If it came out that I was in league with Enigmar, I’d be a suspect for sure!”

The courtroom was silent as they processed this new information, which effectively eliminated Orly as a secondary suspect.

Edgeworth then cleared his throat, uncrossing his legs as he caught the court’s attention. “Well. Would this not be the time to consider the other possibility proposed?” He suggested, raising an eyebrow. Klavier looked at his client, remembering his previous theory before the recess was called.

“In case the court has already forgotten, the possibility of a fourth party still exists--” “This theory again!" The prosecution cut him off with a shriek, "Your ‘fourth party’ doesn’t exist!” he argued, glaring at the defendant from behind the rims of his glasses.

The other spectacled man hmphed, crossing his arms. “Is this not why I brought this case to court? To catch the true criminal, here, where there’s no escape, and no chance for deception?” He stood from his seat. “And it seems luck is on our side, for the clue we were so desperately searching for was given to us in the beginning of this trial.” 

Whispers were heard from the gallery. Defense, prosecution, and judge were confused, Klavier desperately replaying the trial in his head. “Perhaps you know who I am referring to, Klavier?” The aforementioned flinched, looking at the defendant with wide eyes. “I…” he began, but could not give an answer. 

Who… who told him the cards were blue?

Klavier frowned as he tried to remember every assumption that was thrown in the duration of the trial, biting the insides of his cheek. 

Who…?

“It seems the defense cannot provide an answer. If that is the case…” Edgeworth swung the opening of the partition and stepped out, the bailiff jumping in surprise. “...Then I shall provide it.” 

The courtroom buzzed with energy as Edgeworth stepped towards the defense bench.

A finger was pointed.

“Thalassa Justice. You were the fourth person that night.”

Gasps and sounds of surprise were thrown around the courtroom, Klavier looked to his mentor in a mixture of horror and confusion. His mentor did not flinch when Edgeworth stood right in front of her, pointing his finger, but she certainly did seem surprised.

Then Klavier remembered.

“... only the cards, their backs wreathed in blue flame, know its final outcome…”

“B-But of course Frau Justice knows the color of the cards!” Klavier slammed his hands on the table, arguing against his own client. “How would she?” Edgeworth raised an eyebrow, turning his head towards him. “The photo of the crime scene is in black and white. It would be impossible to determine the color of the cards on the floor or on the table.”

He began looking frantically at the files on the table, pulling out the picture of the cards, showing it to the older man. “But look! The colors are clear in this photo-!” “But when she said the cards were blue, it was well before this photo was presented!”

Klavier opened his mouth to argue again, but found that he couldn’t find the words to aid him. Instead he looked to his mentor again, whose lips were pulled into a tight line. “What say you, Thalassa?” Edgeworth goaded on, head tilted downwards.

“Miles... are you really accusing me? ” She replied, both her hands now clutching her chest, her right hand over the left, fiddling with the golden band on her finger. “Do I look the type to jest, Thalassa?” Edgeworth narrowed his eyes, pursing his lips.

The defense snapped their heads around towards the prosecution when he shrieked once again. “This has gone beyond ridiculous, beyond dumb… This is insanity!” He yelled out, clutching the table so tight, Klavier could see the white in his knuckles from where he was. “The defendant accusing his own defense attorney of murder!?” “I assure you, I’m quite sane.” Edgeworth turned around to face the prosecutor.

“What possible connection could Mrs. Justice have to the victim!?” Prosecutor Payne argued, furrowing his eyebrows. “And I suppose I had a connection to Enigmar?” Klavier could practically hear the smugness in his voice, even if he couldn’t see his face.

Klavier couldn’t, however, look at his mentor, who seemed stunned to silence. The young attorney didn’t know who was telling the truth anymore. 

There was no way kind, soft-spoken, and calm Thalassa Justice would be a murderer.... Right?

The argument between the prosecution and the defendant went into one ear and out the other, and the voices fading to a blur in his head as he pondered, denied, doubted, reassured, and thought to himself.

He had to do something. He had to get the truth out somehow.

Klavier slammed his hands on the desk. “Herr Edgeworth! The defense would like to request that you testify to the court about the victim and Frau Justice’s connection!”

“Objection.”

His hair flew from his shoulder as he turned towards his mentor, who was still clutching her chest, her eyes closed tightly. “The… the defense… would like to request...no such thing…” She said, the sentence coming out between shaky breaths.

Klavier furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to feel pity or frustration for his mentor. It was uncomfortable to watch the defense attorney lose her cool. “Frau Justice..--” “Testimonies must relate to the case. Anything happening before that game of poker is unrelated!” she argued, opening her eyes wide.

“...Am I to assume you speak for Mr. Gavin in this?” The judge narrowed his eyes at the older woman, who gasped. “He is the defense, not you.”

“Mr. Gavin. The matter of Mr. Edgeworth’s testimony is up to you-” “Klavier!” The younger attorney jumped when his sleeves were suddenly clutched by the older woman, who looked up at him with wide eyes. “Klavier, please!  You know me, I would never...!” Klavier gulped as he looked into those wide blue eyes, and he swore he could see tears beginning to form. 

The sound of the gavel tore her away from her student as the judge glared at the older attorney. “Ms. Justice, behave yourself!” he scolded, the woman looking down as she was reprimanded, sorrow written all over her face.

After a moment of silence, Klavier gulped, worrying his bottom lip as he thought about his options.

“...The defense would like to request that Herr Edgeworth testify to the court,” he said, looking up to the judge. He flinched as he heard Thalassa take a sharp breath. “Very well. The defendant will take the stand, please.” The judge made this official by banging the gavel once again, and Edgeworth walked towards the witness stand.

He testified that he and Thalassa dined the night of the murder, and Enigmar walked in five minutes after Thalassa had left. After that, the events of the poker game conspired, and the rest was history. He called her when he discovered the body.

Klavier pursed his lips. He remembered his mentor mentioning that she and dinner that night before they entered the courtroom, though that last statement…

“Herr Edgeworth, Frau Justice talked to you directly after the murder?” He asked, just to make sure. “Quite against my will, I had become involved in a murder.” Edgeworth crossed his arms, “I thought I might be in need of a lawyer, so I called her.” 

“Miles…” Klavier looked to his mentor, who was clutching her bangled wrist once again. “I only speak the truth, Thalassa.” Edgeworth turned his head away from the defense, clutching the sleeve of his blazer. “...Very well.” The judge punctuated his sentence with another hit of his gavel. “The defense may cross-examine the witness.”

Klavier gulped, getting his files in order once again, when his attention was called by the call of his name from beside him. “Frau Justice…?” He knitted his eyebrows in concern as the woman’s hands shook. “He’s lying, Klavier...You have to expose him…” she turned her head towards him, an expression of pain visible on her face.

He took in a breath, nodding slowly, though he couldn’t quite believe his mentor fully anymore.

He took a moment to review Edgeworth’s testimony. “Herr Edgeworth, this ‘trap’, can you please elaborate it to the court?” He pressed, looking to the older man on the stand. “Certainly. As Orly mentioned before, she slipped a card into my pocket… and I just so happened to slip my hand into my pocket, finding the card.” Klavier pursed his lips, drawing backwards. “That’s quite lucky,” he said, Edgeworth nodded. “I peeked at the card and found the Five of Hearts. Intuition had me dispose the card by rolling it up and putting it into the murder weapon. Quite forcefully might I add.”

He examined the murder weapon once the judge had him add the last statement to his testimony. “Herr Edgeworth, I see no card in the bottle as you claim…” he frowned, presenting the bottle to him. The older man raised an eyebrow, leaning forward and squinting as he examined the bottle from Klavier’s hand.

“...Hm. That’s odd,” he said, straightening his posture and pushing his glasses up. “Surely that’s not all you have to say for yourself, Mr. Edgeworth!?” The judge said, exasperated. “I cannot say I know what happened to the card. I did put it in a bottle, however,” he argued, shrugging.

Klavier pursed his lips before moving onto the next contradiction, returning the bottle and taking the first photo of the crime scene. “You also mentioned seeing the cut on the victim’s forehead, yet in this photo, a hat is covering her wound.” He showed the photo to the court, then to Edgeworth, who pursed his lips.

The gallery murmured at this while Edgeworth hummed. “... Ah. I seemed to have forgotten to mention something,” he said, Klavier raised an eyebrow. “Please share it to the court,” he requested, putting the photo down.

“I was the one who put the hat on her head.”

“...Eh?”

“You…?”

“You put the hat on the deceased’s head?” The judge asked, looking more and more concerned as the seconds ticked by. Edgeworth nodded. “She wore it throughout the game. After calling the police and returning to the scene, her forehead was in full view, and her hair was cascading down from behind her, just like in the second photo,” he explained, hand gesturing towards the close-up photo of the victim, where the wound from the bottle could be seen alongside a second scar on her forehead.

“And…?” The judge frowned, looking back to him after putting down the photo. “I picked up her hat off the floor and put it on her head.” Edgeworth shrugged, seemingly nonchalant about altering the crime scene.

“Wh-Wh-Why’d you do a thing like that!?” The prosecution seemed faster in voicing Klavier’s concern as he pursed his lips, looking at his client in confusion. “I apologize. But I swear that that is the only thing I touched at the crime scene.”

The cross-examination soon came to a close as Klavier returned to his position from behind the bench, scratching his head.

“I’m sure the court is still curious as to why I placed the hat back onto Enigmar’s head. I assure you, I had a reason.” Edgeworth began reaching into his pockets. “A...reason?” The judge asked, raising an eyebrow. The defendant nodded, pulling out his cellphone. “That night… Recall that I spoke with Defense Attorney Justice after calling the police. Just in case, I recorded our conversation,” he explained, looking down at his phone as his fingers navigated through the keys.

Thalassa looked stunned, finally looking back up towards her client. “You...what?” she began, eyebrows knitting together. 

“Allow me to play it back for the court.” Edgeworth pressed a button on his phone.

“...Thalassa. I seem to be in a bit of trouble.”

“What’s the matter? Game not going well?”

“...You can say that.”

“Have you been defeated by that woman who challenged you?”

“Not quite. She’s dead. Someone seemed to have hit her on the head.”

“Ah. A mountain to accompany the river? That’s a shame… Wait. You didn’t… did you?”

“Of course not. Law enforcement should be here soon. I’m in your hands… should it come to that.”

A beep sounded as the playback ended. Edgeworth placing his phone back into his pocket

“Mountain…?” Klavier furrowed his eyebrows, the analogy lost on him. “The victim already had a scar on her forehead. I believe she was referring to the wound given by the more recent blow,” Edgeworth elaborated, looking at Thalassa, who was clutching her chest once again.

Klavier frowned. Something wasn’t right about that phone call. “After Frau Justice had dinner with you… she left the Borscht Bowl Club?” He asked, glancing momentarily at his mentor. “Most certainly,” Edgeworth affirmed, nodding his head. “Then.. how could she know about the victim’s previous scar…?” Klavier continued to ask, looking down at his hands.

Edgeworth smiled. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”

The courtroom burst into energy once again, and the judge once again called for order. “Order!” he yelled, “I will have order! Mr. Payne!” His head snapped towards the prosecution, who jumped in surprise. “Y-Yes, Your Honor!” he began sweating. “I believe this court has been left with no other choice… Are you prepared to hear Defense Attorney Justice’s testimony?” The prosecutor looked taken aback, beginning to stutter, but he wasn’t given a chance to speak before the judge banged his gavel against the block.

“Very well! We’ll break for ten minutes, after which, Ms. Justice will take the stand for a cross-examination!” He looked towards the defense, “Are we all clear on that?” he asked. Thalassa gulped, before nodding, “...Yes, Your Honor…” she managed to speak, carefully gathering the files laid out on the table, though Klavier could see her hands shaking. 

“Then, this will be the final recess for the day. Ms. Justice, Mr. Edgeworth, I will see you both in my chambers.”

Klavier, once again, started pacing in the defendant lobby, deliberating the trial’s recent events, when suddenly, he bumped into something.

“Ow!” He heard this something cry out, before he snapped out of his thoughts and looked down to see a girl rubbing her head, a pair of glasses with pink lenses crooked on her head. She looked like a student, wearing a uniform and an oversized lab coat whose sleeves were rolled repeatedly to accommodate her thin arms. “O-oh, sorry-” “Watch where you’re going, you fop!” She frowned, glaring up at Klavier. 

“F-fop…??” Klavier raised an eyebrow, surprised to be suddenly insulted by this...little...girl? How old was she, anyway? “Wait, what are you doing here in the defendant lobby?” he asked, baffled that the bailiff let the teenager(?) in. 

“I came to talk to my Uncle, but he isn’t here, so…” she frowned, pulling a bag of what looked like snacks out of her overflowing shoulder bag, reaching in and chomping on them. “Your...uncle…?” he frowned as crumbs fell from her mouth, though she didn’t seem to care.

Before Klavier could make the connection, one of those snacks was pointed at him. “Hey! You listen here, fop. My uncle is innocent, alright!? You...you can’t…” she faltered, the snack threatening to fall from between her fingers, but she took a breath, looking even angrier, “...You can’t let him get a guilty verdict! Got it, fop!?” she yelled out, stepping forward and nearly crushing Klavier’s foot underneath her red slip-ons if it weren’t for him stepping backwards.

He was about to respond before she suddenly stormed out of the lobby, mumbling to herself, still munching on her snack.

That’s when he noticed the red ribbon tying her hair into a ponytail.

“Court will now reconvene. Defense Attorney Thalassa Justice, will you please take the stand,” the judge spoke out, banging his gavel to signify the continuation of the trial. 

As his mentor passed by the bench, Klavier heard her mumble something as she fiddled with the ring on her finger, taking her place on the stand. “Now then, if you would, Mr. Payne.” The judge looked to the prosecution, who adjusted his glasses with shaking hands. “Y-Y-Yes, Your Honor! Erm… Will the witness-”

“That...will not be necessary, Prosecutor Payne.” 

Everyone looked to the woman as she spoke clearly, one hand clutching her chest. She looked to Edgeworth, who nodded when their eyes met, an unspoken conversation going on between the two. Klavier furrowed his eyebrows at this. What did they discuss while they were out?

“Erm… could you explain yourself, Ms. Justice?” The judge looked stunned, looking down at the woman on the stand, who simply drew in a deep breath.

“...I confess to the crime.”

The courtroom gasped. Loudly.

Klavier’s eyes widened in surprise, looking at his mentor, looking for any signs that she could be lying, but only found cold determination on her expression. “F-Frau Justice…?” he began, his eyes pleading that she was lying, that his teacher for the past two years wasn’t a killer.

She couldn’t. She just can’t-

“I’m sorry, Klavier,” she said, avoiding her student’s gaze. “M-Ms. Justice, are you serious..?” The judge furrowed his eyebrows, concerned. “This is all so sudden…You killed Jane Enigmar?” he continued. Thalassa simply nodded, drawing her shawl over her shoulders, flattening the creases from the cloth resting on her forearms for hours on end. 

“B-But you don’t have a motive!” Klavier found himself crying out, slamming his hands on the table, disturbing the files that were once carefully laid out. “You couldn’t possibly have a motive…!” he repeated, softer this time, more desperate.

Thalassa didn’t answer, shaking her head. “I will state it again for the record. Please take this as my official confession,” she told the court, looking up towards the judge, who was holding his gavel, uncertain. “I killed Jane Enigmar. I came to the Hydeout while Miles was upstairs, and used the bottle to hit her on the head. I will say nothing further.”

“Mrs. Justice, did the defendant put you up to this!?” Prosecutor Payne yelled out, glancing over at Edgeworth. Thalassa, once again, shook her head. “Miles did no such thing. I don’t say this as his defense attorney, but as the true perpetrator of this crime, but he is innocent.”

Klavier could only watch as the bailiff cuffed his mentor’s hands behind her back, watch as she looked back at him with sorrow in her eyes, watch as she was led out of the courtroom for further interrogation. The prosecutor hesitantly followed after her.

Klavier leaned against the wall behind him, placing a hand on his forehead. Surely he was dreaming? He closed his eyes and pinched his cheek, opening them when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked to the owner of the hand, the magenta-clad man with the ribbon in his hair, pity in his steely eyes. 

Pity.

He didn’t need his pity.

Yet, at that moment, Klavier Gavin felt helpless, burying his face in his hands as he tried to keep his composure, taking deep breaths. 

Moments later, the prosecutor returned, and the judge cleared his throat. “I...believe this time we’ve come to quite the abrupt end of our trial,” he said, palming the gavel in his hand. “Mr. Payne, do you have a report for us on Thalassa Justice?” he asked, facing the prosecution, who frowned before speaking hesitantly. “She’s admitted everything. We’re processing her arrest now.”

The judge nodded solemnly. “I see… Still, one has to wonder why he would do such a thing- Mr. Gavin?” He seemed to notice Klavier’s current state, the young attorney flinching before looking up to him. “Are… Are you alright, Mr. Gavin?” he asked, pity in his voice.

There it was again, the pity.

“...Yes, Your Honor.”

He thought back to his mentor, what she used to say. “...I’ll be fine.”

“...Alright. Please, do feel free to take a moment outside if need be.” The judge nodded, his gaze lingering on the young attorney before looking to the files on his own table. 

Klavier couldn’t hear whatever conversation was going on in front of him, too focused on these new revelations to pay attention. He couldn’t swallow it, the pill that told him his mentor was a killer, just like how he couldn’t swallow Edgeworth being a forger.

Perhaps it was sheer bad luck that both his idols turned out to be quite terrible people.

Miles Edgeworth was declared not guilty, and court was officially adjourned.

The two men sat in silence in the defendant lobby while Klavier absentmindedly rearranged the case files for filing, a tense atmosphere suffocating the attorney alongside the so-called “truth”.

“...You no longer have a job, do you, Klavier?” Edgeworth asked, catching Klavier’s attention. The younger man frowned. Right. There was that too. Frau Justice’s arrest would surely dissolve Justice Law Offices, and he, along with his other coworkers, would lose their jobs. He only nodded in response, sighing.

“...Then come work for me.”

His eyes widened, head turning to look at Edgeworth in the eye. “Y-You’re serious…!?” He asked, exasperated. The former attorney nodded. “You do know of my office...right?” He raised an eyebrow. 

Klavier opened his mouth, but no words came out before he ran a hand through his hair. “O-Of course I’ve heard of Edgeworth & Co…. Not a single attorney in my generation hasn’t…!” Edgeworth seemed flattered, fighting a smile. “Somehow I don’t believe you, but… hm.” he hummed, looking away.

At first he was thrilled , but then he realized… “...But… didn’t you…?” He began, pointing to Edgeworth’s empty lapel. “Yes, I turned in my badge, I’m afraid I’m no longer an attorney,” he confirmed, nodding. Klavier bit the inside of his cheek, looking down at his own badge.

“Have you considered returning to the courts?” he asked, closing the folder he held. Edgeworth paused, his lips thinning into a line. “...I’m afraid I’m no longer qualified to stand in a court of law,” He said, staring forward. Klavier raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” he continued to ask, his head tilting.

Edgeworth thought to himself before standing up. “...Are you aware of terms in Statistics and Probability, Klavier?” he asked, his back still facing the younger man. Klavier frowned, confused. “I… can’t say I am, Herr Edgeworth,” he replied, standing up as well. “Hm.” Edgeworth hummed, before taking a card from his pocket and turning to give it to him.

It was the address to Edgeworth & Co. Law Offices, written in Edgeworth’s neat handwriting. “Let’s say I’ve committed a Type II error, or rather, I helped you commit the error. Search it up, and tell me what it means if you ever consider my offer,” he said, turning and exiting the lobby, leaving Klavier confused as he stared at the address on the card.

Just like that, Klavier’s first ever trial ended. His mentor  was thrown into jail, and the path his life was going suddenly unclear to him. 

Whatever the future held for him, perhaps the small 3.5 by 2 card in his hand had the answers.

“Polly, Polly!”

‘Polly’ looked away from his computer, where an article that was just posted mere minutes ago was open. 

The girl who was calling him, walked up to his desk, panting, holding her phone tightly. “Did… did you hear the news…?” she asked, showing the same article on her phone.

Polly glanced over the headlines and nodded, looking back to the copy on his computer. “I did. Just a few minutes ago, actually,” he said, frowning. 

“I’m gonna go visit her at the detention center, could you come with me…?” 

“...Yeah, I’ll go, just gotta ask Chief Prosecutor Wright if we could. Let’s ask her about this… ‘Klavier Gavin’...”

Chapter Text

The second thing Klavier Gavin did when he got home to his studio apartment was collapse on the bed, exhausted.

He didn’t feel like he had the capacity to do much else, his trip from the courthouse to the soon-to-be-former Justice Law Offices on his Hog was done with his head full of thoughts and worries for the future, only worsening as he watched his coworkers look at him with a mixture of pity and contempt as he packed the belongings on his desk, seeing as he wouldn’t be using it anymore.

Once the items were secured in the compartment attached to the back of his bike, he began the ride home, almost absentmindedly.

When he opened the door to his apartment, he practically threw the briefcase to the side as Vongole barked and padded up to him, leaning into his touch when he crouched down to pet her. “I bet you’ve had a better day then I did, girl,” he told her, scratching the golden retriever behind her ears before closing and locking the door behind him.

Once his shoes were kicked off, he walked over to his bed with heavy steps before falling on top of the mattress face down with a huff. His legs hung over the side, but he couldn’t be bothered to feel anything other than sorrow and despair.

Vongole must’ve sensed this, since she let out a whimper as she nosed his legs. He raised his head to look at her before chuckling, reaching over to pat her on the head.

The retriever jumped onto the bed licking at his face, much to his disdain. “Ach! Vongole, where’s all the manners Kris taught you?” he laughed, gently holding her muzzle and rubbing it with his thumbs. She barked in response, sitting down as he slipped off the bed to sit properly. 

Once his face was wiped with a sleeve, he sighed, shrugging off his jacket and discarding it to God knows where before he whistled to catch the dog’s attention, who happily snuck into his arm to receive more pets, sticking her nose into his chest.

After an undisclosed amount of time,  he somehow ended up leaning against the wall, legs fully extended forward, his feet hanging off the edge. Vongole was resting her head on his thighs, her tail swishing back and forth and disturbing the bedsheet as it did. His hand idly petted her furry head as he scrolled through the seemingly endless amounts of texts and emails that continued to flood in.

The texts came from nearly everyone he knew, from his now former coworkers, friends and family, even Daryan somehow found the time to send him a message. 

His emails were a whole different story. News outlet after news outlet asking for some exclusive information, or an interview, some offering sums of money in exchange. 

Money, huh? He hummed, putting his phone down for a moment. Vongole lifted her head up when his petting suddenly stopped as well, curious as to what her roommate was thinking. He took a moment to pause before closing his email app. He could check the rest later.

He opened up his bank account, humming. The golden retriever jumped onto his lap and sniffed at the screen, like she was trying to take a look at how much was left too. “You think this’ll last us for a while, schatz ?” he chuckled, pulling the phone away to avoid getting her slobber on the screen. 

Once his phone was out of the splash zone, he stared long and hard at the number on the screen, not even noticing the loss of warmth beside him. He did the maths in his head, and sighed. 

Whatever was left in his account should be good for maybe another month or two. He’ll have to start looking for a new workplace soon.

Another sigh left him as he shoved his hand in his pocket, jumping when his fingers brushed over paper. “Oh, right,” he mumbled, pulling out the card and looking at the address that was neatly scrawled onto its surface. Edgeworth & Co. Law Offices it read, right underneath.

He was unsure if he should even consider working under Edgeworth, since, well… Could he even pay me? He thought to himself, pursing his lips. As much as he loves helping people, he still needed to make a living somehow.

Though before he could start weighing the pros and cons of working at Edgeworth & Co., he felt something bump his feet, and when he looked over, he saw Vongole with her red dish in her mouth, wagging her tail.

“... Scheisse !” He jumped to his feet, dropping his phone on the bed before making his way to the kitchen, Vongole close at his heels. “Why didn’t you tell me you haven’t eaten earlier, girl?” He chuckled, looking through the drawers before pulling out a small red leather-bound notebook. 

Vongole put her dish down and padded over to Klavier as he sat on the floor, holding the notebook by the spine. “Tell me when to stop,” he told her, before running his thumb through the pages of the notebook. She eyed the notebook as he riffled through the pages before barking, Klavier stopping as she did.

“Beef stew, huh? You have good taste, schatz .” He gave her head a good rub before standing up, walking over to the fridge. He took a look at its contents, glancing back to the notebook in hand before humming, closing it.

“Doesn’t look like we have some of these ingredients…” He shook his head, lowering his face to level with hers. “I’m going to go buy them at the grocery, I might as well get myself lunch too,” he tells her, and she barks in response.

After a quick change of clothes, consisting of a hoodie, a pair of jeans, and a baseball cap, he gave Vongole a quick round of pats, and his own pat around to make sure he had his three essentials. 

Once the door was locked, he went on his way.

He spent a good minute looking through carrots before putting one into his basket, humming as he did.

He managed to pick up quite a bit, somehow still within his budget. He took a look into the red notebook in his hand. Now, all he needed was some beef.

Seeing as how the grocery store he was in was fairly new, he didn’t really know where everything was, and the shelves were pretty high with other products, so he couldn’t just use his height to his advantage. 

He huffed and shoved the notebook into his hoodie pocket, approaching the first person he saw, who happened to be a guy around his height, his own hood pulled over his head. 

“ Entschuldigung… ” Klavier gave his shoulder a tap, and the guy turned around, his fluffy black hair peeking out from underneath the hood, and the visor he wore. “Do you happen to know where the frozen meats are?” he asked, putting on his best smile. Not too overbearing, but noticeable enough.

Except the other man gave a wide grin that rivaled his own smile, placing his hands on his hips. “Sure do, bud!” He replied, before turning around, one hand extending forward. “Just go straight, then keep going left.” His arm followed his words, moving to the left. “Then when you get to the crackers, ya take a right.” His arm then went towards the right, before he turned back around.

“I see… thank you,” he said, nodding. “Why, whatcha need?” Herr Grin asked, his hands staying on his hips. “Ah… just some beef,” he replied, raising his basket. Herr Grin took a look at the contents of his basket, and his grin got impossibly wider. 

He pointed a finger at Klavier’s basket. “You makin’ bibimbap ?” he asked, pulling his phone out of his pocket. The attorney raised an eyebrow. “Sorry?” His head tilted slightly in question. “Here, I got this great recipe from my sister, you can take a pic if ya want!” A phone was shoved into his face, and sure enough, there was a recipe for said dish.

Klavier stared at the screen for a moment. ...Ah, to hell with it he thought, taking his own phone out to snap a picture of the recipe. He might as well take the nice man’s offer, why not? “Thank you,” he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

Herr Grin looked like he was about to respond, before a hand clasped his shoulder, and he swung his body around to reveal another man, much shorter than the both of them, his face hidden by the hood pulled over his head. 

But what really stood out to Klavier, was the very familiar bangle on his left arm. 

His eyes locked to it once he saw it, squinting. Herr Bangle must’ve noticed, quickly shoving his hand into his pocket, concealing the bangle. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I look away for a minute, and suddenly, you’re on the other side of the place,” he told Herr Grin, whose hand went to the back of his head as he grinned sheepishly.

“Sorry, ‘Pollo--” Herr “Pollo” quickly shushed him, placing a hand over his mouth. “Trying to keep a low profile, Terran… Come on, let’s hurry up. Truce’s waiting for us,” he said quietly, though Klavier could still hear him. He then turned around and shuffled away. 

Herr Terran scratched his head before he turned around to face Klavier. “Try it out, alright? Hope you like it!” He waved farewell as he jogged to catch up with the shorter man’s wide strides.

What an odd couple. Klavier thought to himself as he decided to go behind him instead, seeing as how the shorter of the two didn’t seem to want to be seen.

“You’re spoiled, you know that?” Klavier told the dog behind him, who was eating up her beef stew happily while he was still cooking his egg. “We should probably change your name from Vongole to Prinzessin. ” He chuckled, moving the egg from his pan to the bowl on the counter.

He grabbed a spoon and the bowl of bibimbap before sitting down next to Vongole, who was still happily feasting into her lunch. “Time to see if Herr Terran’s recipe is any good, hm? ...Ah, wait, did he say it was his sister’s…?” He hummed before shrugging, mixing the contents of the bowl together.

The two roommates ate in relative silence, Klavier humming as he ate up his lunch. 

Eventually, when they were both full and satisfied, he took both their dishes to wash. Once those were put on the dish rack to dry, and his hands were wiped dry as well, he slipped the notebook back into its previous resting place, a frame caught his eye from beside the notebook.

The frame held a picture of a family of four, the mother had auburn hair and blue eyes, while the father and both his sons had a platinum blonde, though the older son had a much lighter color, compared to his father’s and brother’s richer blonde. The father had his hands on the older son’s shoulders, who looked around 16, while the mother, who was sitting, had her arms around the younger son, who looked no older than 8, and was giving the camera a toothy grin, compared to his brother’s curt smile.

Klavier took the picture frame, his thumb brushing over the old wood, when he heard Vongole whine behind him. He looked back to see her pawing his leg. He chuckled, putting the frame back and crouching down to plant a smooch on her head, as well as some scratched to her neck.

“You miss him too, don’t you?” he mumbled, pressing his forehead to hers, his hand idle on her back. Vongole gave a huff in response, and a lick to his face. Another chuckle left him before he patted her back. “I do too, don’t worry.” He smiled, a hint of sorrow on his expression before he stood up and stretched, making his way to the bed and flopping down onto it.

He felt a fluffy presence join him, curling up in front of him, and his arms slung over her, holding her close. “ Gute nacht, schatzi …” he mumbled into her fur, before falling asleep, thinking of what the future may hold for him.

Chapter Text

Two months passed ever since Klavier was officially unemployed, and over those two months, he took to doing a few odd jobs for his apartment building for extra cash. Things like walking their dogs (he usually took this as an opportunity to walk Vongole too), house-sitting for neighbors who would be out for a while, and fixing sweet Mrs. Jenkins’ sink for her (she baked him an apple pie as a bonus, bless her soul).

When a month came and went, he finally decided to get off his ass and look for a job in other law offices, the card Edgeworth gave him sitting idle on his kitchen counter. 

Much to his surprise, practically all of the offices he applied for rejected him, excuses like being overstaffed, or that he was underqualified, or that they simply couldn’t bring him into the office, flooded his emails, alongside those news outlets that wouldn’t stop bugging him.

He knew better though. Those offices were probably just scared of him possibly finding out their dark secrets or whatever. Dark age of the law, and all.

Though, if it weren’t for Vongole, he probably would have stayed in bed for the entire month.

One day, while he was vacuuming the apartment clean, he felt a certain snout bump his calf, and when he looked back, the dog was holding the card in her mouth, wagging her tail. He switched the vacuum off and took the card from her, and she promptly padded off to have a nap on his bed, despite the fact that she had her own bed nearby.

That was when he decided to finally consider Herr Edgeworth’s offer, telling himself to wake up early the next morning, since the older man didn’t really seem the type you’d want to be late for.

Well, that was what he told himself.

And now here he was, practically running into the shower after waking up later than he intended, waking Vongole in the process.

The golden retriever perked up even more when she heard her roommate yelp, presumably from the cold water that blasted out of the showerhead, and she took this moment to stretch slowly on his bed before hopping off and making her way to her water bowl.

Meanwhile, Klavier was now out of the shower, despite having just got in just a few minutes ago, drying himself off with a towel and putting on his boxers, plugging in the hair straightener. 

He padded out of the bathroom, passing his canine roommate as she scratched behind her ears with the help of her hind legs.

He threw open his closet, digging inside for his suit, which was protected by the plastic that usually came with putting it through dry cleaning. 

He was buttoning up his black dress shirt when he made his way back to the bathroom, taking the hair straightener and using it to help braid his hair. He held the finished braid with one hand, the other hand reaching into the hanging cabinet next to him, taking the can of hairspray and giving it a shake. 

He looked down at the can in horror when it gave a hollow sound, uncapping it with the help of his chin and pointing the nozzle to the air, pressing down the button. When nothing but pressurized air came out, he gave a groan, dropping the cap into the sink and tossing the empty can into the trash can.

“Du musst mich veräppeln…” He muttered under his breath, power walking out the bathroom with one hand still holding the finished braid. He unplugged his phone from the charging port, dialing a number and putting it on speaker.

A bark sounded from behind him, and he made his way to the kitchen, taking Vongole’s bowl from her mouth and placing it on the ground, opening his cupboards. “I’m sorry, schatzi, I don’t have the time to cook today…” he told her, pulling out the kibble and pouring her a bowl. Vongole didn’t seem to mind though, happily feasting into her breakfast, nonetheless.

“Hello?” He heard a voice call out from his phone. “Daryan! Could you do me a favor?” He yelled from his kitchen, taking his tumbler from the cupboard and prepping the coffee machine. “Klav? What are you, five feet away!?” There was a pause, then a sigh, before Daryan spoke again. “Whaddya want?” He asked.

Klavier placed his tumbler underneath the nozzle, and coffee poured into it before he made his way to his phone, taking it back with him to the kitchen. “Listen, could you send over another can? I ran out this morning,” he spoke into the phone’s microphone before placing it on the counter, next to the card.

“Another-!? Fuckin’ ‘ell, Klavier, that last can shoulda lasted you another month!” Daryan told him, exasperated. “I know, I know! Some shit came up, alright?” He replied, frowning. Vongole barked again, looking at him. “Ach, sorry, language, I know.” He crouched down, giving her a good pat. 

The machine gave a shudder as it finished dispensing the coffee. He stood back up to take his tumbler out. He heard another sigh from the phone. “Daryan, you have like, three boxes of the stuff, don’t get dramatic with me,” he huffed, giving up on holding the braid and swinging his hair over his shoulder, using both his hands to secure the cap on his tumbler.

“Alright, alright, I get it. When can you pick it up?” He could hear his best friend straighten up in his seat. “Can’t pick it up, I’m gonna be out today. Just drop it off at my place, you still have the spare key, don’t you?” He left the kitchen area to pick up his briefcase bag, as well as a harness for Vongole. 

“Seriously, Klav? First you make me give you free hairspray, and now you’re making me deliver it to you?” Daryan snorted, Klavier could practically hear the smirk on his face. He sighed, putting the harness on Vongole when she finished eating. “I’ll take you out for drinks if you do this for me,” he offered.

“That’s more like it. Alright, I’ll drop it off. Any other free shit you wanna take from me?”  Klavier shrugged on his leather jacket, taking his phone from the counter. “I’ll take that attitude from you, if you don’t mind,” he replied, taking the call off speaker. “Fuck you, Gavin,” Daryan cackled from the other line, before Klavier chuckled, hanging up and shoving his phone into his pocket. 

“You ready to go, schatz?” He looked down at Vongole, who gave a bark and a quick circle around in reply. He grabbed his keys and his wallet from the counter, putting them in the pockets inside his bag.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his coffee, his suit jacket, and the card with the address before shutting off the lights in his apartment and making his way out, locking the door behind Vongole.

They both made their way down the building’s residential garage through the elevator, Vongole running towards his motorcycle once it was in sight. He eventually caught up with her, placing his coffee in a cup holder attached to the handlebar.

He opened the compartment that was attached at the back, carefully folding up his suit jacket and placing it inside, next to Vongole’s various toys and supplies. The dog’s bark echoed in the garage, practically telling her roommate to hurry up as she tippy tapped around the bike. 

He chuckled, shaking his head and taking out her safety gear. Once she saw them, she ran up to him, letting him put on her goggles and booties. “You really are spoiled, you know that?” He whispered, only receiving a lick to the face in response. 

Grabbing his own helmet, he signalled for her to come over. He helped her up and into her carrier on the back of the bike. He swung his leg over the bike and put on his gloves, glancing back at his passenger. “Comfortable?” he asked, receiving another bark in reply. 

He gave her another pat on the head, tying his hair into a careful bun before slipping his helmet on. Once that was secured, he started the bike, revving up the engine. He gave it a minute or two before kicking the stand and starting off slow, exiting the garage.

Vongole was dropped off at her usual dogsitter’s, who was surprised to see Klavier again after two months. Once her toys and supplies were given, he said farewell to his roommate before making his way to Edgeworth & Co. with the help of his phone’s GPS.

He was led to a two storey complex that looked like another apartment building, though it looked worn, compared to the hotel that was directly next to it. He took his helmet off, double checking the card to make sure he was in the right place before parking in front of the building.

Looking up at the building while he shrugged off his jacket and removed his gloves, wondering whether or not this was a mistake. Maybe he should look for employment with other law offices. Though, the more he thought about it, the more he felt that this was his only choice.

He took his suit jacket from the back compartment and replaced it with his leather jacket, locking it once it was shut. He removed his helmet with practice, slipping on his suit jacket and buttoning it up. He also took his attorney’s badge from the jacket’s pocket, pinning it onto his lapel. He then took his phone from its place, as well as his coffee, before making his way up the stairs to the second floor.

Uncertainty filled him as he walked towards the office’s door, standing right outside with one arm raised to knock. His fist uncurled as he hesitated. Maybe he shouldn’t be here after all, surely there are other law offices that could accept him anyway, right?

Though before he could change his mind and turn around, the wooden door swung open, and a girl stood behind it, looking annoyed. “You were taking too long and I was getting bored watching you through the gaps,” she said, rolling her eyes. He took a step back, surprised, before raising an eyebrow. "Wait, how did you even know I was out here?" he asked. She sighed, rolling her eyes, "I was listening to the outside through the door, for scientific reasons of course, and I could hear your loud ass motorcycle, and your loud ass footsteps from the other side."

Creepy? Definitely. Familiar? Somewhat… He squinted down at the brunette girl in front of him, who was currently pulling out a bag of snacks from a very familiar overflowing bag, the sleeves of her oversized lab coat sliding over her elbows as she reaches inside- 

OH- “You’re the girl from the courthouse!” He exclaimed as he realized it, though, her hair wasn’t tied up like it was two months ago. Fraulein Lab Coat squinted up at Klavier, before she had a realization of her own. “Oh God, you’re the fop from the courthouse.” She gritted her teeth, her eyebrows knitting together.

A frown pulled down at his lips. “I do have a name, you know,” he said, crossing his arms. She rolled her eyes again, reaching into the bag of snacks and munching on one. “Yeah, yeah, I know, Konrad Gavin or whatever. Couldn’t recognize you without that rat tail hairstyle you had.” She leaned against the doorframe, throwing more of the food into her mouth.

“First of all- Klavier, where on Earth did you even get Konrad?? Secondly, it’s a braid , and I couldn’t recognize you without your ponytail.” His frown deepened as he corrected her. “Whoooo caaaaaarrreessss?!” She threw her head back and practically yelled, pulling her sleeves above her elbows. 

Her head returned to its original position concerningly fast. “Listen, fop, are you coming inside or not!? Scientifically speaking, it’s hot as shit outside and I really don’t want to waste any power.” She glared at him with the power of a thousand suns, clutching her bag of snacks tightly.

Klavier sighed. “Yes, I’m coming inside. If you could just…” He motioned for her to move over, and she begrudgingly did, stepping out the doorway in one long stride. 

Stepping inside felt like entering an entirely new dimension as Fraulein Cranky closed the door behind him, the cold air from the air conditioner rushing to fill the room. His eyes scanned over several tools and machines that scattered across what was supposed to be a law office.

Instead, he felt like he just entered a laboratory costumed badly to be a law office.

“Don’t touch anything. Especially not the Snackoos,” she said as she passed him, removing her bag and placing it on the faded leather couch. The pink sunglasses that rested on her head was lowered as she made her way to what looked like a very small fridge that was perched atop what he assumed to be a piano, he could just make the shape out from the cloth that was draped over it.

She opened the little fridge for a moment before shutting it quickly, turning to him and crossing her arms. “You’re here for Uncle Edgeworth, right?” she asked, lifting the glasses from her nose. 

Ah that’s right. She was his niece, wasn’t she?

“Ja.” He nodded, looking around the office, slipping a thumb into the belt loops of his pants. When his eyes landed on the girl, he immediately noticed her expression, which clearly expressed disgust.

He raised an eyebrow, leaning backwards slightly, “What?”. “You can’t say it like a normal person?” she scoffed, crossing her arms again and leaning against the piano. “Like a normal-??” “Nevermind.” She pushed herself off the piano quickly, taking a seat on the couch instead. 

“Uncle Edgeworth’s not here,” she spoke as a matter-of-factly, grabbing that bag of snacks (Snackoos, he learned) again, munching on them. “I’m looking after the lab while he’s gone,” she continued, a few crumbs falling from her mouth.

Hesitantly, the attorney took a seat on the couch across from hers, placing his tumbler of coffee on the table and clasping his hands in front of him as he leaned forward. 

He gave the office another once over, mostly focusing on the various laboratory instruments and other machines that were scattered about it, spotting the bookshelf of old law books behind him, though, some science school books were crammed in there too. 

It smelled vaguely of isopropyl alcohol, and he scrunched up his nose immediately after he noticed. He guessed that the other door in the room led to Edgeworth’s office. He only hoped that his office wasn’t a victim of what he could assume to be this girl’s definition of a makeover.

Might as well confirm.

“So...what’s… all this?” He gestured around the space, raising an eyebrow. The girl followed his hand before shoveling another handful of snackoos into her mouth. “It’s my lab. Uncle Edgeworth helped me get all this equipment through his husband or something,” she said, swallowing the food down.

Somehow, imagining Edgeworth getting all this equipment for one teenager didn’t seem too far fetched.

“Right, speaking of… Where is he?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

It took her a moment to respond, in fact, he was beginning to think she was eating slower on purpose. Once she was finished munching on the food, she gave a sniff. “In the hospital.”

He immediately straightened up. “The hospital??" he repeated, his eyebrows rising in surprise. Fraulein Snackoos stayed true to her name, pelting him with one of the snacks, hitting him right in the forehead with a ka-tonk! . “Ow--!” He yelped, rubbing the spot where he was hit. “What are you, deaf? Yeah, he’s in the hospital, don’t be so loud, the neighbors’ll complain again.” She pouted, munching on her food again.

He decided not to ask what she meant by ‘again’.

A sigh left him before he stood up, pulling on the sleeves of his jacket. “Well, which hospital is he in?” he asked. She hummed, closing her eyes. “Hickfield Clinic, not too far from here,” she answered, before popping another piece into her mouth.

He nodded, making his way back to the door. “Wait, where are you going?” He heard the girl ask as he wrapped his hand around the knob. The attorney raised an eyebrow as he looked back towards her. “I’m going to visit him.... Why?” He gave a smirk as the opportunity to be snarky right back at her presented itself on a silver platter, “Are you going to miss me already?”.

At this, a scowl formed on the girl’s face, making her look much older than she already is before she made a fake retching noise, making the attorney chuckle, shaking his head. 

When she was done pretending to vomit out all the snacks she managed to digest within that short time, she took a deep breath and stood up quickly. She stomped her way to the door, grabbing her bag on the way there. 

Her hand shot out as she swatted his hand out of the way, yanking the door open. “I’m coming with you,” she said quickly, stomping past him. 

He stood there, a little stunned, but snapped out of it when she stopped in her tracks, glaring back at him. “Are you coming or not??” she placed her hands on her hips as she tapped her foot impatiently. 

He took a moment before nodding once, closing the door behind him and following the girl to Hickfield Clinic.

When they arrived at the (relatively small) hospital, they made their way to the receptionist, Klavier letting the teenager do all the talking for the both of them.

They were given visitor’s passes to clip onto the lapels of their clothing, and they made their way to Herr Edgeworth’s room.

Though, when they arrived, no silver-haired former attorney could be found. Instead, stacks and stacks of...Steel Samurai(??) DVDs and comic books replaced him. A child-sized piano and bottles of grape juice could also be found, and at the sight of the latter, the girl huffed, picking them up and tucking them underneath the empty hospital bed.

“Eh? Visitors are ya? Hrmm?” A voice Klavier could only describe as ‘sleazy’ piped up from behind him, his description only solidifying as he turned around, looking down at the grinning pink-haired man. “Ah… ja. Are you the doctor?” he asked, noticing the stethoscope that hung on the man’s shoulders.

Herr Sleazy picked up the tail end of the medical instrument, his grin somehow widening. “Ayup. Dr. Hickfield’s the name,” he said, a creepy chuckle leaving the doctor afterwards. “Oh God , it’s you,” The girl spoke up from behind the attorney, the scowl he saw earlier making a return.

The doctor perked up as he noticed her presence, his head somehow sinking down. “Hiya there, Ema-” So that was her name. He wondered why she never told him. “-Cute as ever. Ehehe…” 

Fraulein Ema frowned, and he felt her clutching the back of his suit jacket. And then he felt himself moving towards the doctor.

“Ah. Fraulein--??” He looked back at her as she pushed him forward. “Shh-! Just… just annoy him away for me--” she hissed at him, looking to the side and trying to avoid the doctor’s sight. “What’s wrong, Miss Ema? Got any places you’d like... “ The doctor waggled his eyebrows, “... Examined? Eh...ehehe…”

At this, Klavier stepped backwards, alarms in his head were ringing as he raised an arm protectively in front of Ema, who for once in their short time together, did not swat him away.

Thankfully, before anything could escalate, the bespectacled man they were here for finally appeared, shadowing over the much shorter doctor as he approached. He cleared his throat loud enough for the shorter man to turn around and look up.

“Doctor, the nurse was looking for you,” he said curtly, an icy cold stare looking down at the doctor. The latter didn’t seem fazed, turning around as the other man spoke and grinning up at him. “Why, if it isn’t the Daddy o’ the cutest lil’ thing in town!” He said, clasping his hands together.

Edgeworth raised an eyebrow. “I’m not her father--” “Guess I’ll be off then, eh? Later, Ema.” Hickfield waved towards the girl, who only scowled even more. 

When the doctor was gone, Ema immediately shoved Klavier aside, causing the attorney to stumble from the teen’s surprising strength as she went over to embrace her uncle. Edgeworth gently patted her head before looking to Klavier, who was regaining his footing after being violently cast aside.

“A little later than I hoped, but you’re here all the same,” The older man said, gently prying the teenager off of him as he addressed the younger attorney. Klavier breathed in deeply and nodded, fixing his suit jacket. 

Edgeworth made his way to the hospital bed, visibly limping, Ema joining him as she yoinked a comic book from the stack nearby. “Herr Edgeworth… what happened?” Klavier asked, standing in front of the pair. The other hummed, peeking over Ema’s shoulder as she opened up the comic book.

“I was a victim of a hit and run.”

“A hit and--!?” Klavier was more surprised about how nonchalant the older man seemed to be about getting hit by a car rather than how he survived getting hit by a car.

He nodded, eyes following the page as Ema flipped it. “Oh yes. To his defense, he tried to swerve, but alas…” he motioned to himself. “The only thing that stopped me after flying thirty feet off the ground… was a telephone pole.”

Ema snorted out a laugh, whether she was laughing at the comic or at her uncle’s unfortunate accident, he couldn’t tell.

Klavier still couldn’t wrap his head around how cool Edgeworth was about being slammed into by a metal machine, he could only think of two other people who could keep their cool at times like these; Thalassa Justice and…

Well, it almost seemed like fate that all three were defense attorneys.

“Are you...alright?” He looked at the man up and down, looking for any injuries that stood out to him, but he looked practically flawless, save for the deep bags around his eyes.

Edgeworth must’ve noticed his worried disposition, as he raised a palm in an attempt to calm him down. “Mir geht’s gut . I escaped with only a sprained ankle,” he reassured, gesturing to his right foot.

Klavier failed to comprehend this man's luck.

Both men turned their heads as Ema groaned, giving her uncle a pout. “Don’t encourage him!” she scolded him, shutting the comic book. Edgeworth looked just a little disappointed as she did.

“It’s only polite to speak with someone in their mother tongue, don’t you think so, Ema?” He reasoned, carefully raising his leg to cross with the other. The teenager huffed, giving the attorney a glare. “Scientifically speaking, he’s definitely not German.” She stuck her tongue out at the younger man.

Carefully ignoring the girl’s confusing insistence that he wasn’t from Deutschland (and she was at least half right), he instead jammed his hands into his pockets, processing what he’s been told while uncle and niece fight over a comic book.

Speaking of…

“Are you and the fraulein blood-related, Herr Edgeworth?” He asked, glancing over at the girl in question. The two ceased bickering, then looked at each other, almost like they were communicating telepathically.

Edgeworth was the first to break the ice, shaking his head. “Ema and I are not blood relatives. I’m only her legal guardian until she’s grown--” “--Or until Lana comes back!” Ema cuts in, her hands curled into fists, scrunching up the comic book. At the mention of this ‘Lana’, Edgeworth breathed in sharply, nodding. “Or until her sister comes back,” he repeated, almost solemnly.

Perhaps something he should note down in his mind.

“Wait- Until I’m grown? But Uncle Edgeworth, I’m already grown!” She argued, looking back to her uncle, who chuckled and raised a hand to pat her head. “You’re still a little girl to me, but you’re almost a young lady, I’ll concede to that.”

Ema seemed pleased at his answer, handing over the comic book as a prize. The older man seemed pleased as well as he was given the comic book, flattening it of its previous abuse.

“One thing to note about Ema, by the by,” he said, opening the comic to where Ema stopped, the aforementioned now leaning over to read with him. “She’s more than just a simple teenager,” he continued, flipping the page.

“Ja, I… kinda came to that conclusion on my own.” Klavier responded, remembering how the office was decorated and described as her laboratory. “Some sort of young scientist?” He scratched the back of his head, unsure.

Ema cleared her throat, raising her chin. “Scientifically speaking, I’m a forensic investigator .” She enunciated each syllable, even using both her hands to further her point, her palms open as if the words were to appear right in front of her.

The former attorney nodded once she put her hands down. “And an excellent one at that,” he added, raising his head momentarily to look at her. She beamed, and Klavier swore he could see a dusting of pink on her cheeks as she pushed both her hands onto the mattress of the hospital bed.  “D’aww… Now you’re just flattering me, Uncle Edgeworth.” She giggled.

It was getting harder and harder to believe that this was the same girl that constantly scowled at him during their short time together.

“I’m sure you’ll soon come to appreciate her ‘talent’,” he said, emphasizing ‘talent’. Klavier frowned, his shoulders dropping. “You could just tell me things instead of insinuating them.”

Edgeworth shrugged, it seemed his attention was more focused on the comic than on the attorney himself, and he sighed.

Might as well do what he came to do in the first place.

“Herr Edgeworth, I came to the office earlier-” “Laboratory.” Ema corrected, raising a finger. “Office.” Her uncle corrected, causing the younger girl to frown. “Well, whatever it is now. I came by to take up your offer for a job-” “WHAT!?” She exclaimed, standing up from the bed, and startling Klavier as she did.

The other man didn’t seem fazed at her outburst though, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “That’s good to hear, Klavier.” He nodded, before finally looking up from the comic to look at the younger attorney. “Wait! WAIT! Uncle Edgeworth you can’t be serious!” Ema placed her hands on her hips, glaring at her uncle, who turned his head to face her.

“Ema, you have to understand. If we don’t have Klavier working in the office, then we’ll have to transfer you to a new school.” He paused, pursing his lips. “Again.”

The girl only frowned more, though her anger gave way to sadness instead, before shifting into determination. “But Mr. Wright’s taking care of us, isn’t he?” She tried to reason, gesturing vaguely to the window of the room. “There’s only so much Phoenix can do for us, Ema, and I am no parasite.” The former attorney took on a more authoritative tone, staring her down.

Klavier shifted uncomfortably amidst the two’s squabbling, pursing his own lips.

“Regardless,” Edgeworth continued, carefully closing the comic book and placing it back onto the stack, “Klavier already has a client.”

Now that got his attention.

“I...I do?” He raised his eyebrows, surprised how quickly he supposedly got the job, and especially how quickly he gets to start.

Well, a grace period of maybe three days was preferable, but he was getting paid, right?

“Yes,” was all Edgeworth said, reaching into the drawer next to the bed to pull out a map. “I’ll explain. Come look here.” He motioned for Klavier to come forward as he laid the map out on his lap. The attorney obeyed, stepping forward, Ema begrudgingly stepping aside.

“Last night, I left the office just before nine o’clock. I was on my way to Alden Tae’s, I play piano there as well, and that’s when it happened.” He supplemented his words with pointing on the map, tapping one spot, just outside People Park, at the last phrase.

“The car and I collided, I hit the telephone pole, and then it zoomed away. Quite unsettling, isn’t it?” He glanced over to Klavier, who was listening with rapt attention, raising an eyebrow. “Almost as unsettling as how casual you are about this,” he replied, furrowing his eyebrows together. 

The older man then traced a line on the map with a finger. “The car sped off in this direction… Good luck.” He folded the map neatly and handed it to the younger. Klavier blinked, processing his words before he straightened up from his bent posture. “...Was?” “I’m your client. Find the dunce who hit me with his car.” He waved the map up and down, waiting for the other man to take it.

Klavier stepped backwards, raising two hands in surrender, “W-warte kurz bitte--” He slipped into his mother tongue in his confusion, one hand raising to comb through his fringe. “I’m a defense attorney, not a detective!” He motioned to the badge pinned to his lapel for extra effect. 

“I’m aware, Gavin. Once you find him, I intend to sue him, then you’ll be back in court.” “...I’m not a prosecutor either! I’m sorry Herr Edgeworth, but you’ll have to find someone more qualified.” He shook his head, turning to leave.

“Ah… I jest, Klavier, don’t leave yet,” He heard Edgeworth say, and he hesitantly turned back around, eyebrows furrowed. 

Edgeworth didn’t exactly look like the joking type. Perhaps he mellowed out with age?

All three heads turned as Edgeworth’s phone buzzed on the bed, the man picking it up for a moment. “...Looks like your real client is already at the office,” he said, typing into his phone before putting it back down. Klavier sighed, whether from relief or exhaustion, he couldn’t exactly tell. “Then I suppose I’ll go greet them, ja?” He pointed to the door, the other man nodding in response.

“Ah, one more thing. Do look into my accident too, would you? I marked it on the map, not easy to miss.” Edgeworth once again reached the map out to him, and he finally took it, peeking inside before slipping it into his pocket. “And take Ema with you. I’m sure she’ll be able to help you.” The former attorney gently pushed the teenager forward, who let out a yelp in protest.

She huffed and turned around, stomping her foot down. “Why do I have to help this fop!?” she protested, crossing her arms and gesturing to Klavier with a jerk of her head. “Because I’m injured. Now shoo, or I’m taking your fingerprint powder back to the precinct.” Edgeworth waved his hand towards the door, dismissing them both.

Ema gasped at the threat, presumably thinking things over before she huffed and stomped towards the door, grabbing Klavier by the arm on the way, the attorney losing his balance at the force. “Come on, fop! You want a job, don’t you!?” 

This was going to be a long day.

Chapter Text

The two unwilling partners made their way back to the office ( “LABORATORY.” Ema would correct) in relative silence, with Klavier politely greeting the people they pass, much to Ema’s dismay.

“Do you flirt with everything that breathes?” She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms. He also raises an eyebrow, returning her look. “I’m just being polite,” he reasoned, looking forward again. 

The girl let out a ‘Ha!’ before pulling out a notepad from her bag, flipping it open. She cleared her throat “ 9:53 AM, June 15; ‘You look lovely today, Fraulein.’  Not only a fop, but a flirt too? Investigate further,” She reads out loud, even going as far as imitating his voice (poorly) before shutting the pad, giving him A Look. “My notes are never wrong,” she says with an air of smugness.

Klavier rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Is it a crime to be nice? I just wanted to make her day a little better with a compliment,” he replied, one hand poised on his chest . 

“Oh please. You only said it because she was checking you and your pretty face out.” Ema huffed, shoving the notepad into the pocket of her lab coat.  He grinned, looking back at her. “You think I’m pretty?” He teased, even batting his eyelashes for extra effect.

She gives him a look of disgust that basically answered his question. “I’ll give you ten bucks to never do that again,” she tells him, pulling a tenner from her pocket. “Keep your money, fraulein, I’m not the type to be bribed,” he replies, pushing the bill away. Ema looked relieved to have saved ten bucks, shoving it back into her pocket. “Fine, but the next time I see you do that again, you won’t have any eyelashes left to bat,” she warns him before walking ahead.

The attorney chuckled, scratching the top of his head with a finger before following after her.

They finally arrive at the office, opening the door to find a man sitting on one of the couches, sipping on...

Hey, wait a minute--

“My coffee!” Klavier exclaimed, pointing to the tumbler the older gentleman (who was....wearing a bowl on his head....?)  was drinking from. “Oh finally, you’re here. How long you planning on making me wait, eh!?” Herr Bowl put down the tumbler, unfazed and muttering something about it being cold.

Ema didn’t seem to be fazed by Klavier’s outburst either, instead squeezing between him and the doorway to greet the other man. “Good morning,” she said, taking Klavier’s tumbler from the table.

“Hey there, Ema-doll. Sounds like your uncle had a bit of a rough spot, eh?” Herr Bowl turned his head to look over at the girl, who was placing the tumbler on the piano. She sighed, giving a shrug to the older man. “All’s well that ends well, I guess…” she replied.

Klavier closed the door behind him as he entered the office, making a beeline towards his tumbler, grumbling. “Hey! So this is that Konrad fellow, eh?” He heard the other man say behind him, and he turned around, raising an eyebrow. “Klavier, sir. Klavier Gavin, a pleasure to meet you.” He shook Herr Bowl’s hand, his other hand holding his tumbler.

The older man shrugged. “Same thing, right? Sorry ‘bout your coffee, by the way, it was cold anyway,” he said, crossing his arms. Klavier opened his mouth to speak but decided against it, closing it again. 

If you have nothing good to say, better not say anything.  A familiar voice told him.

Herr Bowl placed a firm hand on his shoulder, Klavier having to lean slightly for his hand to reach. “The boss told you what I need, right?” He then raised a fist, clenching it tightly, “Don’t let me down now, Konrad!” 

The younger man pursed his lips, patting the elder’s hand with his free one. “Klavier, sir. And don’t worry about your defense, I’m on it.” He returned the other’s determined look, nodding.

Though something seemed to have been lost in translation, as the man’s lips pursed as well as he squinted.

“Defense…? Your noodle half-cooked?” He moved back, now placing both his hands on the attorney’s head. “It’s too late for defense!” He exclaimed, shaking the younger man’s head slightly before stepping backwards, hands moving up towards the air. “My castle’s been stormed! My keep’s been kept! My noodle stand’s been stolen!”

“Ah…?” Klavier’s head tilted in confusion. He felt another hand on his back, and turned his head to look at Ema. “You know Mr. Eldoon from the noodle stand, right, Klav-Gav?” She smirked, patting the attorney’s back as he straightened up. “Don’t call me that. And no, I’m afraid I don’t.” He frowned, retying his once careful bun after the attack it was victim to.

That seemed to catch (who he assumed to be) Herr Eldoon’s attention, his hands promptly going down as he raised one thick eyebrow. “You new in these parts?” He asked, crossing his arms. 

The attorney finished his bun with a flick of his hand, the band snapping against his hair, “Not...exactly….?” He replied, unsure. “Then you know the best noodles in town: Eldoon’s Noodles!” The other exclaimed, giving him a thumbs up and a toothy grin.

When all he got was a blank stare in response, Herr Eldoon turned to Ema, still striking a pose. “Help me out here, Ema-doll…” He mumbled behind gritted teeth. Ema snorted, walking over to the older man, who finally let go of his pose.

“This is Mr. Guy Eldoon, our client. Tell us what’s up, Mr. Eldoon,” she explained, gesturing to Eldoon. “Anything for you, Ema-doll!” He said, now crossing his arms.

Klavier began to ponder what life decisions led him to this very moment.

After listening to Eldoon’s problem (his noodle stand was stolen, go figure), the two began to make their way to People Park, the scene where Edgeworth was hit in his accident.

“Isn’t it too hot for what you’re wearing?” Klavier heard Ema speak up from beside him, causing him to turn his head. He looked down at his current attire of a simple black dress shirt buttoned all the way up to his neck and purple suit before shrugging.

“I am technically on the job, so it’d only be right to wear the appropriate wear, ja?” He reasoned, though he couldn’t exactly argue about the current LA weather, especially during the beginning of summer. It was hot .  

He was thankful he never really learned how to tie a necktie.

“Plus, you’re one to talk,” he continued, pointing to her lab coat. “I’d say the weather’s a little hot for that many layers, fraulein.” He argued, then gesturing to her vest. 

Ema looked down at her outfit as well before huffing. “My layers are thin enough for the current weather. Compared to your decision to wear black.” She frowned, pointing to his dress shirt with a Snackoo. “Dark colors absorb heat, you’re gonna roast in that outfit....scientifically speaking.”

Klavier chuckled, looking back forward and inserting his thumbs into the loops of his pants. “Careful, Fraulein. I might start to think you actually care about me,” he teased, giving her a little wiggle of the eyebrows. 

She immediately flushed before promptly throwing the Snackoo she was holding, hitting him square in the forehead. “I don’t! I’m just trying to prevent you from dying of a heat stroke!” She practically yelled, grabbing another piece from her bag. “Uncle Edgeworth will never let me hear the end of it if it happens again.”

At this point, Klavier learned not to ask questions he didn’t quite want the answers to.

Eventually though, he relented and removed his suit jacket, rolling his sleeves up to his forearm, and he had to admit; it was relieving to be rid of a layer. He slung the jacket over his shoulder, holding it with a finger, and Ema rolled her eyes, mumbling something about his foppish behavior.

They finally made it to People Park, the aforementioned park closed up by yellow police tape that yelled “DO NOT ENTER” in bold text.

They also encountered a woman dressed in traditional Japanese garb who was mopping up a large amount of paint (and was probably strong enough to stab that mop into Klavier, no matter how dull it may be), and the two bickered quietly between themselves as to who would have to confront her for a few questions.

After being threatened to be the subject of Ema’s many “scientific” experiments, Klavier eventually gave in and volunteered as tribute, approaching the woman, and trying his best to keep his cool.

Though that seemed to be an easy feat, as by the time he was within her sights, the woman perked up, a dusting of pink visible on her face as he approached. He flashed her a nice smile, and she gave one back.

Well. This was gonna be easy.

“Hallo, Fraulein,” he greeted, leaning slightly to be eye-to-eye with the woman. He heard Ema mutter under her breath and flip her notepad open from behind him. “Hello,” the woman replied, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear.

He could practically hear Ema retching behind him.

“Klavier Gavin, attorney-at-law, a pleasure to meet you Fraulein…?” He held his hand out, which the woman promptly shook. “Plum. Plum Kitaki. Wife of the fourth head of the Kitaki Family business, though…” She let out a giggle, looking away, “Friends call me Little Plum.”

Klavier’s eye twitched at the mention of Kitaki , being familiar with the organized crime syndicate, and he inhaled deeply in an attempt to maintain his composure. 

“Well, Fraulein Plum--” He cleared his throat as his voice gave out from the pure fear he felt for the crime syndicate’s wife, gulping afterwards. Little Plum let out a hearty laugh, holding her stomach as she did. Klavier awkwardly chuckled along with her.

He could now hear Ema snickering behind him.

“What’s wrong, boy? You’re man enough to talk to little ol’ me, aren’t ya?” She chuckled, giving Klavier’s shoulder a strong push, the man coughing as she did, raising a hand to hold where he was pushed. “I will warn you though, I am happily married, so don’t you try no flirting with me, boy.” She waggled a finger, clicking her tongue. He managed to let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “Rest assured, Frau Kitaki, it is not my intention to get in what I’m sure is a very happy marriage.”

“Alright, this is getting painful- Move it!” An arm shot out in front of him, pushing him backward as Ema took his place, the outstretched arm moving to shake Plum’s hand. “Ema Skye, ma’am, future forensic investigator, we’re here to ask you some questions” she introduced herself with a confident smile.

Klavier wondered where that sudden burst of confidence came from.

“Ooh… I like your style, little girl.” Plum nodded in approval as she shook the teen’s hand. “A few questions, eh? Ask away.” 

Ema nodded as the two broke contact, raising her notepad and taking a pen from her bag, pressing the tip on the paper. “So the Kitakis… you guys are the bad guys, aren’t you?” She asked, rather straightforwardly. Her eyes were too focused on the ruled paper to see Klavier sputtering from behind her, giving her a silent plea with his wide eyes.

Though, Plum seemed to find this entertaining, letting out another hearty laugh. “The bad guys… I like the sound of that!” She exclaimed, placing a hand on her hip as she shook her head, her shoulders shaking. 

“Guess you could say that, though, it takes a lot of hard work to protect a family fortune,” She said once she calmed down, looking up thoughtfully. “Things aren’t as easy as they used to be for us ‘bad guys’.” She hummed.

The teenager jotted all this down religiously on her notepad, nodding along to her words. “So, you’re saying that business is in a slump--” “There was a car accident here last night, ja?” Klavier quickly interjected, stepping forward, his suit jacket instead resting on his forearm, neatly folded.

Ema frowned as she was interrupted, glaring daggers at the older man, the latter giving her a pleading look in response.

“Last night…” Plum began, closing her eyes in thought. “Ahh..! If you don’t know about it, it’s alright--” He blurted out, giving a nervous smile. He really did not want to get on this woman’s bad side.

Her eyes opened afterwards, squinting. “Wait,” she said, and the two seemed to freeze in time. She took a moment to think again before she placed a hand on her hip, leaning slightly on her mop, “You’re talking about that man, aren’t you?” She asked, nodding along with her words. “The one who flew thirty feet and just… walked away?”

“That’s my uncle.” Ema nodded, smiling. Plum seemed pleased that she was right, raising her index finger and waggling it around as she laughed. “I should’ve known! One of our Capos thought he’d make a great point man.”

The girl raised an eyebrow, her head tilting slightly before her pen pressed even more onto her notepad. “Capo? Point man…? Could you explain those please? Scientifically, that is,” she prodded, looking at the woman expectantly. Klavier laughed nervously, waving a hand dismissively. “She doesn’t need to know all the industry lingo, let's not,” he said quickly, shooting Ema a glance.

Plum shrugged, resuming her mopping. “In any case, it’s been nothing but trouble,” She huffed, her eyebrows furrowing. “I’ve been cleaning up this mess since morning! Bah!” She gestured to the paint on the concrete, frowning.

Klavier stepped backwards when he looked down, realizing one foot was standing on the dried paint, the girl doing the same as she looked down.

“Was this paint spilled at the time of the accident?” He asked, pointing to the yellows, reds, and blacks splattering the ground.

“It was around 9 last night,” Plum began, stopping her mopping and placing a hand on her cheek as she recalled the events of last night. “I heard a crashing noise… and found your uncle drowning in a sea of paint,” she recounted, humming afterwards. 

Klavier could only imagine Edgeworth muttering as his clothes were ruined with paint.

And Ema called him the fop.

“So you came to his rescue?” The aforementioned asked, jotting Plum’s statements down on her notepad. Plum smiled, placing her hand on her hip once again. “You’ve my husband...the Boss, to thank for that,” she corrected, and Ema was crossing something out and writing something else down. He looked over her shoulder to sneak a peek at her notes, but found that her handwriting was practically incomprehensive.

“The car hit your uncle over this paint…” Plum gestured to a paint cans that were sitting in front of the wall that barred Kitaki Mansion from the common folk. “...then turned the corner, and sped away,” She continued, pointing to the said corner. “We’re in the middle of repainting our wall, you see.” She then gestured to the dragon painted on the wall, only halfway finished.

Klavier swore he could feel the dragon glaring at him.

“But...  why are you the one cleaning up?” Ema continued asking, finally looking up from her notepad as she mimicked Plum’s pose of one hand’s knuckles on her hip. The latter raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” she countered the question, shifting her weight to her other leg. 

Ema shifted her weight as well, and at this point, Klavier could guess that she’s mirroring the woman. She probably has some kind of scientific explanation for it. He guessed, placing his hands in his pockets. 

The girl hummed, tapping the rings of her notepad on her bottom lip. “I mean, aren’t you a gangster?” She reasoned, and Klavier’s head whipped around to look at her, sweat beginning to form on his temples. “Don’t you have any… goons to do your dirty work for you?... Scientifically speaking, anyway.” She shrugged, ignoring Klavier as he mouthed for her to please don’t ask.

Luckily, Plum seemed like an easygoing person, and she gave yet another hearty laugh. “Don’t be such a stiff, lawyer-boy! I suppose we gangsters do have a certain image.” She gave Klavier’s arm a pat, presumably noticing his silent pleas. He only gave a nervous chuckle, but his eyes still displayed his fear.

She shook her head, chuckling still. “But we’re community-oriented gangsters, you see… the Boss likes to give back to the people, see?” She explained, humming. “How noble of Herr Kitaki,” He commented, more in an attempt to calm himself down.

Plum nodded in agreement. “I availed myself of the public facilities to get rid of all the garbage… Now there’s just the paint on the street to deal with.” She gestured to something behind them, and they turned around.

Behind them was People Park, with two officers standing at the entrance in front of the police tape, one of which was prying an old lady who seemed quite determined to get into the park, and a pretty lady who was looking at the park with blank eyes. The lady seemed to be in a rush though, so Klavier decided not to bother her.

Plum went back to cleaning up, and the pair approached the officer stationed at the entrance. “Based on my observation…” Ema began as they walked towards the officer, “...The park looks to be a scene of sorts… Scientifically speaking,” she concluded, looking pleased with herself, even though Klavier could easily deduce that himself.

The officer noticed them as Ema drew nearer, before outstretching a hand, palm facing forward, to stop them. “Hey, Miss! Stay out of the park!” He ordered, and the girl stopped in her tracks. She frowned at the officer, sticking her tongue out at him before she trudged over to somewhere else.

Klavier watched Ema go before he approached as well. “You too, sir, no unauthorized folks can enter the park!” The officer told him, his hand returning to its place at his back. “Did something happen here, offizier?” He asked, trying to peek over his shoulder with the help of his taller stature.

“Huh? Uh, no, move along, there’s nothing to see.” A hand shot up into his vision, and he looked down to see the officer raise his hand in an attempt to block his sight. He raised an eyebrow, shifting his weight. “Really? Then I suppose the police tape is also for nothing?” He pointed to the tape in question.

Before the officer could answer though, a woman stepped forward from behind the police tape, looking rather down, almost dramatically so. She wore a pastel blue dress shirt and a black vest with yellow, diamond shaped buttons over it, as well as a pair of white silk gloves, a red ribbon around her collar, which was raised to cover a part of her neck, two black sleeve holders and brunette hair tied into quite a familiar hairstyle…

“Is everything alright here?” She asked, looking towards the officer as she crossed her arms. “Ah, Detective Justice! We’re fine ma’am, nothing to report!” The officer gave the fraulein a salute as she spoke up.

Wait, what did he say her last name was--?

“...Nothing on Polly, either?” She frowned even more, giving the officer a pleading look. She didn’t seem to notice the other man standing agape in front of them. The officer shook his head in response. “Nothing on Prosecutor Justice either, ma’am,” He responded with another salute.

...Justice!?

“Darn… Ah. Who’s this?” The detective finally seemed to notice Klavier, who promptly closed his mouth and straightened up. “Curiosity seeker, ma’am,” the officer replied to the woman, who looked at Klavier with a tilted head. “Hmm… what’re you doing here?” She asked him, lifting the police tape to walk under.

It took a moment for Klavier to realize he was being spoken to, and he gave his hand for her to shake. “Klavier Gavin, fraulein, attorney at law,” he introduced himself as she shook his hand. She seemed to perk up at this, “Attorney, huh?” she nodded slowly, crossing her arms again once they broke contact. “Say, Mr. Gavin, where’d you come from?” she asked, a small smile on her face. “Ah… just east of here, fraulein,” he answered, shoving his hand into a pocket again.

Fraulein Detective nodded slowly again, seemingly in thought. “You didn’t just happen to pass by a much…” She raised a hand around the height of her eyes, “...shorter guy in red, did you?” Klavier hummed before shaking his head. “I’m afraid I haven’t, fraulein… friend of yours?” he inquired, crossing his arms as well.

The small smile quickly morphed back into a frown. “You can say that…” She sighed before making her way back behind the police tape with a “Dagnabbit, Polly, why’d you have to be so punctual??” before she turned to look at him again. “Anyway, sorry, Mr. Gavin, but nobody except law enforcement’s allowed in the park. Maybe if you had a letter of request as an attorney but… doesn’t seem like you got one.” She shrugged, then looked to the officer. “Try to keep the public out, mmkay?” She gave the officer a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the park.

Klavier sighed, and was about to turn back around to ask Plum a couple more questions when a Snackoo hit the side of his head. He turned around to see Ema violently motioning for him to come over as she was leaning over a trash can.

He frowned and walked over after picking up the Snackoo from the ground, rubbing his head. “You know you could’ve just called me by my name,” he hissed, throwing the piece into the trash can while watching as the girl scrambled for something inside. “What...what are you doing? ” His eyebrows furrowed, and she stood straight, her feet touching the ground once again.

She held a pair of slippers in one hand, and what looked like a car’s side-view mirror in the other. “Hold this,” she said, thrusting the items into his hands. He raised an eyebrow, hesitantly holding them. “What am I supposed to do with these?” he asked, pursing his lips.

The girl rolled her eyes, flipping the side mirror and using two fingers to separate the two slippers, exposing paint on both the objects. “Look!” She pointed at both paint marks, then crossing her arms.

It took Klavier a moment before he finally realized what he was supposed to infer from paint, glancing over at the paint that Plum was cleaning up. “Ah…” he nodded slowly, the girl taking them and fitting them both into her bag. Somehow.

They made their way back to Plum, who seemed to perk up when they returned. “Excuse me, Frau Kitaki, but do you know what happened in the park across the street?” Klavier asked, stopping just short of the dried paint. Ema stood beside him, rearranging the items in her bag before grabbing her notepad, once again flipping it open.

The woman hummed thoughtfully, looking over at the park. “Oh yes, quite the commotion.” She shook her head, placing a hand on her hip. “‘Chicago Lightning’, as the Boss would say,” she continued.

With a poised pen, Ema raised her eyebrow. “Chicago… what?” She then furrowed her eyebrows, looking over to Klavier, who shrugged.

“Gunfire. Someone was killed,” Plum explained, now continuing her cleaning.

The other two gaped, Klavier looking back towards the park. “S-seriously??” Ema stepped forward, clutching her notepad tightly, though she seemed more exhilarated than horrified. “Mhm. Strange circumstances, too.” She clicked her tongue as she spoke. 

“Wow.” Was all Klavier could manage as he looked back towards the two ladies. It seems like he wasn’t the only one having an unusual morning.

“What a morning!” Plum seemed to have read his mind as she exclaimed, shaking her head. “Trouble everywhere… The park, the gate, even our house…” She sighed, frowning.

At the mention of the Kitaki Mansion, the pair looked at each other, then back to the woman. “Did something happen at your house, too?” Ema asked, flipping to a new page in her notepad.

Plum gave a loud huff, suddenly unsheathing a knife from her mop, startling the other two as they simultaneously gave a yelp and stepped backwards. “A crime without honor! Without remorse!” The woman said, waving her knife around. “It’s a private matter…” she harrumphed, sheathing the knife again and pausing, before looking back to the other two with a smirk, “Wanna hear about it?”.

“I...Ah… What happened?” Klavier took the bait, giving a nervous smile. Ema gulped from beside him.

Huh. So that girl can feel fear.

Plum narrowed her eyes, looking at the attorney straight in the eyes. “Bloomers,” she said, “Last night.”

“...Eh?”

“Me! Little Plum Kitaki, the victim of a panty-snatcher!” She yelled out, face turning red. From anger, Klavier guessed, not from embarrassment.

“WhaaaaAAAAT??” They heard from the park, and they all looked over to see Fraulein Detective vaulting over the police tape, running towards them, stopping in front of Plum. 

Klavier wondered how she was able to do that with heels, gaping at the detective.

“S-So it wasn’t just my panties that were stolen!?” She exclaimed, her fists rolled into fists in front of her.

Klavier also wondered how she heard that from inside the park.

Plum gave a gasp, pointing to the detective with her mop. “Got you too, did they? Poor thing.” She cooed, and for a moment, the two women probably felt a special connection to each other.

“Like I said, whoever did this is a hardened criminal…” She shook her head, before suddenly turning to Klavier, pointing an accusatory finger. “It wasn’t you, was it!?” She exclaimed, and the two other girls looked to Klavier for an answer, though Ema looked more amused than the older woman next to her.

The attorney, meanwhile, jumped back when he was accused, raising both his hands in surrender. “W-was!? Nein! I would never-!” He quickly stuttered out, beginning to sweat a lot more profusely under the Californian sun.

That seemed to satisfy the women, though Ema was still snickering behind her notepad, and Plum retreated from Klavier’s personal space. He took this moment to take a breather, wiping sweat off his brow.

“I’ve heard word that panties have been disappearing lately… And the missing panties all have something in common.” Plum sighed, shaking her head. Fraulein Detective nodded along, an exaggerated frown on her face.

Ema, not to be outdone, also came forward. “We’ll also go look for it!” She proposed, raising her notepad. Klavier’s head snapped towards the girl as he was practically volunteered to look for a woman’s bloomers. “Great! Show me what you’re made of.” The woman nodded to the other two.

Fraulein Detective sighed, crossing her arms. "Well, I guess I gotta get back to work. Good luck, you guys!" She waved to the two before speeding back into the park.

“Fraulein…” he began, looking at the girl with a pinched brow. He wasn’t about to be accused of panty snatching and being told to look for the lost underwear on the same day. But Ema merely shushed him, closing her notepad and placing it in her bag. “Is it a crime to be nice?” She gave him a smug smirk as she echoed her words to him, crossing her arms.

Klavier sighed, pursing his lips. What did he do to deserve this?

Just then, the pretty lady from before approached the three, Plum smiled sweetly as she approached. “Welcome home, sweetie,” she greeted. “Ah, uh… hello, m-mother…” the lady responded, and Klavier raised his eyebrows in surprise. She didn’t strike him as a Kitaki as well, and by the looks of Ema’s squinting, she didn’t either.

The girl stepped forward and raised her hand for the lady to shake. “I’m Ema Skye, miss, forensic investigator,” she introduced herself, and the lady raised an eyebrow, hesitantly taking her hand to shake as the girl suddenly greeted her. 

She then gestured to Klavier. “And this is Klavier Gavin, defense attorney,” she introduced him, and he gave a small smile, though he was just as confused as the lady. “Attorney…?” She repeated, and jumped when the girl thrust a card in her direction. “This is the address to our lab, drop by sometime.” She flashed a quick smile before turning around and pulling Klavier by the sleeve, away from mother and daughter.

Once they were out of earshot, Ema let go of his sleeve. Klavier glanced backwards before looking at the girl walking beside him. “If I knew you were just trying to set me up, I would’ve appreciated it if we stayed a little longer,” he teased, a smirk on his expression. 

That seemed to flip something inside the teen as she frowned and promptly gave his arm a slap, the attorney chuckling as she did. “I was just trying to help her. She looked like she needed it,” she explained, pouting.

He hummed, one hand rubbing the spot here he was hit. “Why the sudden change of heart, fraulein?” he asked, genuinely curious. She huffed and shot him a glare, “What’s it to ya, fop?? Come on, we gotta help Mr. Eldoon too.” And with that, she stomped away, the attorney tailing behind her.

The two ventured into what Klavier could only assume to be where Herr Eldoon lived, though he wouldn’t exactly call the situation ‘living’ at all. They talked to the man for a few minutes, Ema jotted down some notes before they looked over to the sparkling gold that was the clinic next door.

Compared to the practical dump the older gentleman lived in, the Meraktis Clinic looked like a palace, or a resort, though there was a police car parked up front, and an officer at the entrance to the clinic. They tried to enter the clinic, but were refused, the officer refusing to give them a reason as to why.

When they confronted Eldoon about it, the man just scoffed and crossed his arms, glaring at the clinic with an animosity Klavier could only guess would be hatred. He decided not to push it, just to make sure he wouldn’t enrage the man any more.

Instead, Ema decided they would investigate the garage, convinced she would find something. Although Klavier argued that they were basically trespassing into private property, the young girl just smirked and slunk beneath the barely open garage door.

Not wanting to leave the girl to her own devices, more out of fear of what she’d do than concern, he opened the door slightly more, as softly as he could, glancing at the officer quickly before crawling underneath as well.

“Wow,” Ema said, watching him stand back up and huff, dusting off his clothes, “I didn’t think you had the guts to actually follow me.” She snorted, crossing her arms. Klavier huffed, raising a  hand to make sure his bun was still in place. “I’d rather I haven’t, but I think your uncle basically hired me to be your babysitter, fraulein,” he replied, pursing his lips.

Ema frowned, stomping a foot down on the concrete ground. “I don’t need a babysitter! If anything, I’m the one babysitting you, you fop!” Klavier shushed her, looking over his shoulder quickly. “Listen, if you insist on making noise, perhaps it can wait until we’re done here, ja?”

Having made a compromise, the two began their investigation. 

Of course, the first thing that caught both their eyes was the bright green car they were standing next to, and the fact that it was missing its side mirror. Alongside catching this fact at the same time, they also came to a realization at the same time.

“The mirror!” They both whisper-shouted, Ema quickly taking the item out of her bag while chanting “I told you so!” under her breath. “Careful, the wires are exposed…” Klavier murmured as he took the mirror from the girl, who didn’t really seem to hear him, and if she did, she pretended not to hear.

He brought the mirror to the car, glancing at the colors and comparing the wires. Ema flipped her pink glasses down from her head and took a closer look before nodding, raising it with a grin. “It’s a match,” she told him, straightening up.

“That means this must be the car that hit Herr Edgeworth,” Klavier concluded, handing the mirror back to Ema as she made grabby hands for it. 

“I noticed something while I was trying to match the mirror and the car…” Ema said, kneeling down on the ground and looking underneath the car after placing the mirror into her bag. Klavier raised an eyebrow before she made a sound and reached for something.

She stood back up and presented to him, a cell phone, a pink one that is. He took the phone from her hand and gave it a look over before attempting to turn it on. When it gave no response, he hummed. “Seems like it’s dead. Perhaps Herr Doktor’s?” He gave it back to Ema, who slipped it into her bag. “If we found it here, where the car that hit Uncle Edgeworth is parked, then it must be important,” she reasoned, closing up her bag.

Klavier raised an eyebrow. “You don’t intend to give it back, do you?” He asked, crossing his arms. She gave a snort and a short laugh. “Nah. Who needs a flip phone nowadays anyway? It’s like… 2026, not…” Ema paused, furrowing her eyebrows. Klavier’s brow only raised a little higher. “...2007,” He answered for her, his hands going into his pockets again. She snapped her fingers and smiled, “Yeah! 2007! Damn, you must be pretty old to still remember flip phones,” she teased, giving him a smirk.

He frowned, exhaling sharply out of his nose. “I’m 24, I’m not that old,” he argued, but she dismissed him with a wave of her hand, “Whatever you say, old man,” she said, looking around the garage. He opened his mouth to retort, but instead, a sigh left him. There was no point arguing with a teenager.

“How did you even find that phone? I didn’t think you’d be able to see the bottom of the car without needing to bend down,” he said, moving to where Ema was previously standing and crouching down to match her height, trying to see if he could’ve spotted the phone.

He heard a giggle, and looked to see the girl giving a triumphant smile, tapping the glasses that rested on her nose. “With the help of this baby of course, Uncle Edgeworth asked if I could replicate something he saw beforehand, and so,” She snapped her fingers before pointing to herself with a thumb, “I did. Impressed?” An air of pride surrounded the girl as she placed her hands on her hips.

“If I had to be honest...ja, very impressed. You’re smarter than I thought.” He chuckled, standing back up. “Hoho! That must mean I’m a genius.” She stuck her tongue out at him before continuing to look around.

Klavier chuckled before circling around the car towards the back, crouching down behind it.

“What are you doing?” he heard Ema ask from above him. “I remember this one case your uncle worked on…” he began, looking up at her with a grin. “...Apparently, there was this car with a piece of cloth shoved into the tailpipe, and it turned out to be quite vital evidence to the case,” he explained, now looking back towards the car’s tailpipe. “I remember that case whenever I’m investigating a car with one of my colleagues, and I always check the tailpipe,” he continued, now reaching a few fingers into the tailpipe.

Ema huffed, and he could hear her lab coat rustle as she moved. “Yeah, as if there would scientifically be a chance that something is in… there…” she paused as Klavier rose with his own triumphant smirk, holding a ball of light blue cloth in his hand. “...You win this time,” she conceded, crossing her arms.

Klavier’s smirk widened. “Never underestimate my own investigative skills, fraulein. You may be the forensic investigator, but what you have in technical skill, you lack in experience,” he said, humming and placing his hands on his hips.

“Experience? Please. This is like… baby’s first investigation for you, don’t even with me.” She huffed. “Plus you’re really starting to sound like an old man, you’re sure you’re only 24?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Tease me all you like, fraulein, but one cannot deny the facts...scientifically, ja?” He hummed, raising the ball of cloth in triumph. “I don’t think you know how to use that word,” she mumbled loud enough for him to hear. “English is not my first language,” he answered back, looking down at the cloth like a new shiny prize. “As if!” She shot back, stomping a foot down.

Klavier nodded along, not exactly listening. “Well, it doesn’t matter. It’s time to reap the bounty of which I’ve sown, ja?” He hummed, carefully untying the knot that held the ball together. “Poetic. Ever considered quitting being a lawyer?” She sneered, lips still tied down into a frown. “Once, in law school.” He answered, not exactly detecting the venom beneath her words.

Once the knot was untied, he smiled. “Ah… here we are, now let’s see what we have here,” he said, glancing over to the girl before unfurling....

A pair of blue bloomers, with pink hearts sewn into its front.

The moods the two had switched quickly, Ema bursting into laughter and doubling over, while the older man stared blankly at the bloomers, a tight smile still on his face.

Once she calmed down enough to speak, she straightened up, her hands on her hips as she greedily took gulps of breath. “Scientifically vital evidence, huh, fop?” She snorted, grinning. He took one deep breath before neatly folding the bloomers and giving it to her. 

“Ah… the past is in the past, nein? Perhaps this is Frau Kitaki’s or Fraulein Detective’s, we best give it back.” He bounced back rather quickly, choosing to ignore his previous gloating. “Nothing else in here, ja? Sehr gut! Let’s leave,” he said quickly, crawling back out of the garage.

Once Ema was out of the garage as well, still snorting as they made their way back to Hickfield.

When they made their way back to the former attorney’s room, they found him watching the Steel Samurai on an old TV, sitting down on his bed. When they entered the room, he didn’t turn around to acknowledge them, in fact, he probably didn’t even notice them enter until Ema ran and jumped onto the bed, startling him.

Edgeworth smiled back when the girl gave him a smile, finally turning his head to look at Klavier as he approached the two. “How goes the investigation, Klavier?” He asked, softly ruffling Ema’s hair. “Ah, quite well, surprisingly, Herr Edgeworth,” he replied, placing his suit jacket down over the footboard (foot railing?) of the bed.

The older man motioned for him to come closer, and he followed, walking over to his bedside. “I certainly didn’t expect you back this early.” Edgeworth shifted upwards, moving off the head board. “The fop found a pair of panties.” Ema sat criss-cross applesauce on the center of the bed, once again rearranging the contents of her bag as she spoke, giving another snort.

“Ah… did you now?” Edgeworth raised an eyebrow, sounding mildly concerned. “Aha, ja, we did...” he replied, narrowing his eyes at the girl, who blew a raspberry in response. “...But we found it in the tailpipe of the car that might’ve hit you,” he continued, looking back to the other man. “The tailpipe, hm?” The older man sounded less concerned, looking to Ema and petting her head softly.  “And about the car?” he asked, turning back to Klavier.

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear before speaking. “Well, we found that its left side-mirror was missing. We found the mirror in a trash can where you were hit, and since we found the car in the Meraktis Clinic garage, I’d assume it were the doctor that hit you.”

Edgeworth nodded slowly as he spoke, crossing his arms. “Meraktis, hm…? I’ve heard many a thing about that man… nothing good, mind you.” He shook his head. “Things like what?” Ema asked, seemingly finished with rearranging her belongings.

“I’ve only heard rumours, but that clinic’s been making quite a fortune,” Edgeworth tells them, tapping a finger on his temple, “Though the methods… are not very lawful,” he says, clicking his tongue. “Not very lawful…?” Klavier prods, raising an eyebrow.

“Ties to organized crime… The Kitaki Family, I hear,” Edgeworth explains, turning to Klavier. “The Kitakis?” Ema raised an eyebrow, now also turning to Klavier, who seemed to understand what Edgeworth was implying. “There are some injuries you can’t take to a public hospital, so I assume they go to the Meraktis Clinic to… get patched up, let’s say,” The attorney explained to her, gesturing with one hand.

Ema hummed, looking through her notes. “Maybe that’s why there’s a police car outside the clinic? There were police at People Park too,” she mused, tapping a pen on her bottom lip. “I’m not very sure about Meraktis, but a body was found in unusual circumstances in People Park,” Edgeworth told them.

“What unusual circumstances?” Klavier pressed, raising an eyebrow. If there were something more unusual than being found deceased in a public park, he was dying to know. However, Edgeworth merely shook his head, facing away from him. 

After a few moments of some awkward silence, Klavier cleared his throat, sniffing. “Alright, nevermind.” He decided not to push any further, since the older man didn’t seem in the mood to answer the question.

“Well, thank you for the progress report, Klavier. Perhaps I’ll visit Meraktis Clinic when I’m all better and pursue some legal action. It never hurts to have some extra funds,” Edgeworth said, turning back once Klavier dropped his previous question. 

“Ah… Speaking of funds....” The attorney spoke up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Have you found the noodle stand?” Edgeworth cut in quickly, raising an eyebrow. “Eh? Ah...nein, not yet, I’m afraid,” Klavier answered, frowning. 

Edgeworth hummed, nodding slowly. “I see. Then we can discuss payment when you do. Off you go then.” He not-so-subtly gestured the two to go away with a wave of his hand, his other hand reaching for the TV remote.

Klavier quietly bid goodbye to the quid pro quo as Ema threw his jacket back at him, turned him around, and pushed him to the exit.

The two made their way back to the offices to plan their next move, Klavier fussing over the creases in his jacket while Ema continued to roll her eyes. He was beginning to wonder when they’ll eventually roll out of her head.

Once his jacket was placed in the compartment attached to his motorcycle, they made their way to the offices, opening the door to find a woman sitting on the couch.

In fact, it was the same lady they met back near Kitaki Mansion.

“Ah! Fraulein, what a surprise to see you again.” He flashed his friendliest smile as the lady looked up from her lap, noticing the two enter. “Hey, you’re the lady from the Kitaki place!” Ema interjected, closing the door behind her, “Ah..y-yes…” The lady stood up, brushing her dress off.

“I’m surprised, fraulein,” he said, turning to Ema, “It looks like your instincts were right,” he continued, before making his way to the lady. Ema gave a smug smile, crossing her arms. “Of course they were! Why wouldn’t they be? Science never fails me!”

Klavier failed to see how science helped her at all.

The two shook the lady’s hand as she spoke. “My name is Alita Tiala. I...have a request,” she said, before sitting back down on the couch. Klavier and Ema sat down on the opposite couch from her, the younger elbowing the older as they did. Klavier grumbled as he scooted away.

“What can we help you with?” Ema asked, pulling out her trusty notepad, pen poised and ready to go. “You said… you were an attorney… right?” Fraulein Tiala began, clasping her hands together.

Klavier perked up, his eyebrows rising as his career was mentioned. “Ah, ja, I am. Do you… need a defense?” He asked, a thrill of hope traveling up his spine. 

He gave himself an internal high-five as the lady nodded, his smile widening. Finally! He thought, I actually get to do my job!

“Maybe you can tell us what happened?” Ema asked for Klavier, as he was a little busy having a celebration in his head. “Ah… I-I’m not the client, actually. The client would be my…” She paused, pursing her lips as she thought to herself. “...well...my fiancé, I suppose you’d call him.”

“What happened to your fiancé?” Klavier, who finally snapped out of it, asked, leaning forward with his own hands clasped in front of him. 

Alita went into the details. Klavier’s new client was Wocky Kitaki, the heir to the Kitaki gangsters’ dynasty (he visibly paled at his fact), despite looking quite young… and a little cute, Klavier had to admit (Alita seemed to agree). He was arrested last night for murder. The victim was shot with a pistol but the circumstances of the shooting were unusual (Ema wrote this down, with a footnote saying Uncle Edgeworth and Little Plum said it was weird too, worth looking into , as if they weren’t going to look into it, regardless).

She then handed them an envelope, which Ema quickly slipped into her bag. “I… prepared a letter of request. I know you need those,” she said, before bowing. The two bowed as well before Ema abruptly stood. “Time to check out the scene of the crime!” She exclaimed, then moving to another part of the room to shove a couple more things into her bag.

Klavier shook Alita’s hand before she left the office, sighing.

His first client after that disaster of a trial. Perhaps things will go more smoothly from here on out. Though, judging by his new workplace, he suspected things are only getting wilder from now on.

Once Ema was done filling her bag, she nodded to Klavier, and the two made their way to People Park.

Chapter Text

He looked everywhere.

Turned their apartment upside-down, went all the way down to the Wonder Bar, then went all the way back up to the Prosecutor’s Office, and now he’s on his way back downtown, shouldering his backpack as he went through all the little detours to get to the Just Right BBQ (the Just Wright BBQ his boss would joke whenever he mentioned it, he hated it).

He found a lot of things, like that guitar pick he swore he lost years ago, and a new assignment from the Chief Prosecutor. But he couldn’t find what he was looking for.

Namely, his older sister’s Magic Panties.

Now usually, Apollo Justice, age 22, prodigy prosecutor and platinum selling music artist, would not spend his morning looking for his sister’s magic props, mostly because all her props were laid out in their shared apartment, and by laid out, he meant scattered everywhere.

The two siblings checked and double checked through a list of magic props that she kept, but it was just those accursed pair of pastel blue bloomers that were missing. Unfortunately, Trucy Justice, age 25, criminal investigator and world-renowned Gramarye Magician™, had other business to attend to, like her actual primary career as a homicide detective.

So he was tasked with finding the missing prop, since he didn’t exactly have a case to work on at the time. That was, of course, until he checked in at the Prosecutor’s Office.

“This was going to be Prosecutor Fey’s case,” Chief Prosecutor Wright had told him, “But she’s off busy in Khu’rain and she couldn’t make it back to California yesterday, and we’re a little shorthanded right now, so I figured that since you didn’t have a case yet, you’d be up for the job,” he had continued, with that stupid smile on his face.

“Mr. Wright-” Apollo had tried to reason as he hesitantly took the case file from his boss, “Ah yeah, I know, you’re busy with the upcoming concert you have, but you could get your partner to plan things out for you in your stead, right?” Wright tried to convince him, giving a sorry smile.

The younger prosecutor frowned, fingering the long bangs that hung low on his forehead. “Sir, Clay’s a little busy training back at the Space Center, he only ever has free time at night and next month for the concert,” he explained, now absentmindedly picking at the red dress shirt he wore.

Wright breathed in before leaning forward behind his desk, gesturing for him to come closer as well. Apollo raised an eyebrow before following suit and coming forward. 

“Listen, Apollo. I really really don’t want to hand another case to the Paynes,” The older prosecutor had whispered, his eyebrows knitted together in concern. “I am begging you, please take this case for the sake of my sanity- No, for everyone’s sanity,” he pleaded with the young prosecutor, complete with his gloved hands clasped together, his voice lowering to a hiss as he continued.

Apollo sighed. He could understand where Mr. Wright was coming from, the Paynes were insufferable to deal with, and he’s listened to Trucy complain about working with them countless times. 

“They think that just because they get to control my salary that they could treat me like trash!” She had told him, and that really grinded his gears that he almost decided to give them a piece of his mind, if it weren’t for his crippling anxiety.

“Alright...I’ll do it,” he eventually gave in, sighing. The Chief Prosecutor gave him a wide smile before straightening in his seat. “Thanks a bunch, Apollo! I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Mr. Wright gave him a toothy grin before he formally dismissed him from his office.

He was about to leave when he thought Ah, fuck it, might as well , and turned back around. “Say, Mr. Wright…” he began, smiling nervously. The older prosecutor raised an eyebrow, looking back up from his paperwork.

“You don’t just happen to know where Detective Justice’s Magic Panties are, do you?”

The answer was a hard no. Apollo felt an embarrassed flush return to his face, just like it did back in the office where he first asked. He accelerated faster on his skateboard in an attempt to have the wind cool down his face before he got to the Korean barbecue that his best friend’s family ran.

It was the lunch hour when he arrived through the back entrance to the crowded restaurant, being ushered in by one of the employees when they recognized him, even with a hat over his head and a pair of sunglasses propped on his nose.

He propped his custom-made skateboard on the wall next to the door, taking his hat and his sunglasses off and watching the kitchen staff in its usual flurry of action during lunch time.

Just Right BBQ was a pretty popular dining establishment in Downtown Los Angeles, situated between a lot of offices and workplaces, so a lot of workers came down to eat in their lunch break. The Korean barbecue joint boasted authentic Korean cuisine at a relatively good price, not to mention an unlimited meat deal if you were willing to pay a little extra.

So naturally, local penny pincher prosecutor Apollo Justice and his own family often got their lunches here, especially with their special discount for being close friends with the Terran family. Although Clay no longer worked here, off busy training to finally become an astronaut, his family still welcomed Apollo, Trucy, and Thalassa to dine with them, sometimes completely free of charge.

“On time as usual, huh, ‘Pollo?” He heard a girl speak from behind him, and he turned around to see who it was, even though he already knew who.

Behind him, clad in the restaurant’s apron and her casual clothes of a shirt and shorts, was Jewel Terran, age 17, master chef and boss bitch of the century.

Apollo smiled, making his way towards the girl to give her a hug. “I’d appreciate it if you came a little earlier, or a little later, somehow you keep catching us at our busiest,” Jewel told him when they pulled away, a teasing smirk on her expression. 

“Aha, sorry about that, I’ve been pretty busy all morning myself, so I kinda just came down here as soon as I could,” He replied, patting her head. 

Jewel chuckled, shaking her head. “When are you never busy?” She snorts, before gesturing for him to come follow her upstairs.

He waved to the kitchen staff, and when they waved back, he went ahead and followed her up to the Terrans’ living area.

The family’s apartment sat just on the second floor of their restaurant, the stairs leading straight to their personal dining area, where Sterling Terran, age 49, restaurant owner and second father to Apollo, sat, eating his own lunch.

He smiled when he noticed the younger man enter alongside his daughter, who gestured for Apollo to wait there before she jogged further into the apartment. “Apollo! On time as usual, eh?” He said, chuckling. 

Apollo returned the smile, taking the seat next to his best friend’s father. “That’s what Jewel said, too. I just came down as soon as I could,” he replied, crossing his arms over the table. 

A mannequin across the room caught his eye when he turned his head, a familiar blue coat hung over it. “Why’s that here?” He asked, pointing one gloved hand.

Sterling put his metal chopsticks down, readjusting the wired glasses on his nose before he turned his head as well. “Ah, Clay asked us to pick it up from the dry cleaners. I don’t know where the mannequin came from, though,” he answered, crossing his arms. “He told me to pass a message over to you, something about owing him 20 bucks for ruining it?” He chuckled, looking over to the younger man.

Apollo huffed, a smile spreading on his expression. “Wasn’t my fault, he’s the one who spilled the coke after bumping into me.” He shook his head.

“Trucy’s the one who sent over the mannequin,” Both men heard Jewel say as she reappeared, a leather vest draped over her arm as she made her way to the kitchen adjacent to the dining area. “It’s supposed to be for me, but I decided to let Clay borrow it for today.” She hummed, picking up a paper bag from the kitchen counter and heading towards the two.

“You? Being nice to Clay? Today’s just getting weirder and weirder,” Apollo teased, standing as she approached, taking the paper bag from her and placing it on the table. 

Jewel let out a “Ha!” as she dusted off the vest, handing that to Apollo as well. “In exchange for keeping his coat neat, he’ll have to be my new model for a week, so joke’s on him,” she told him, a smug smile on her face as she crossed her arms.

Sterling raised an eyebrow, giving his daughter a stern look. “Jewel… Why can’t you just do favors for your brother, just this once?” He shook his head, his lips pursed. The girl frowned, huffing. “He still owes me for using my eyeliner without my permission!”

“That’s Clay for you, takes more than he gives.” Apollo chuckled, carefully unfolding the vest and putting it on, the spikes on his shoulders a familiar weight. He ran a hand on the bejeweled front, the silver starting from the spikes, alternating its way down to the top of his chest. 

“How is it?” Jewel asked, the smugness of her smile shifting to something more akin to pride. “Good as new, you’re a miracle worker, Jewel.” He smiled back, reaching over to ruffle her short hair. 

Jewel snorted, gently swatting his hand away. “It’s no biggie, really. It was just a quick patch job, I still don’t know how all the stones popped out of there though.” She pressed a finger against one of the stones. “I can guess though. Trucy?” 

The prosecutor sighed, nodding slowly. “Kinda my fault too, but oh well.” He pulled his phone out of his pants’ back pocket, checking the time. “Right, uh, I gotta go, say hi to Clay for me when he gets home,” he says hurriedly, taking the paper bag from the table and putting it in his backpack.

Once that was zipped up, he and Jewel made their way back to the stairs, but not before he realized something, digging into his backpack once again as he came back to the dining area. “Almost forgot, do you mind putting this on his coat when you can?” He placed a badge of a star with a chain attached to it on the table, in front of Sterling, who took the badge to inspect it. 

“Sure thing. Have a good day, Apollo!” The older man waved goodbye as the younger made his way back to the stairs, where Jewel was waiting. “Thanks, you too, appa!” Apollo yelled over his shoulder, following the younger girl down. 

“I put in extra spice for Trucy, so don’t get it mixed up this time, ‘kay?” Jewel told him as they passed the kitchen staff, back outside, Apollo picking up his skateboard on the way. “I’ll get it right this time.” He gave a sheepish smile, earning him a chuckle from the girl.

The two exchanged one more hug before Apollo dropped his skateboard to board. He loosened his teal tie and put on his hat and sunglasses before making his way out of the alley. “Go kick criminal ass, oppa!” Jewel yelled from the doorway, giving a thumbs up when the prosecutor looked back at her. 

“I’ll try!” He yelled back before boarding his skateboard and removing his vest, accelerating out of the alley and back to the streets.

When he turned the corner towards People Park, he slowed down and got off his skateboard, removing his hat and glasses again in exchange for his vest. He put both accessories into his backpack before picking up his board and making his way to the park, before stopping in his tracks.

He stopped nearby as he watched a taller, blonde man in a dark dress shirt argue with the officer standing guard at the entrance of the park, a much shorter girl in a lab coat and a topknot standing beside him with her arms crossed, lips twisted in annoyance.

“We’re not playing, Herr Offizier,” the man huffed, his eyebrows furrowed, a few strands of his hair falling from his bun as his head moved. 

Apollo pursed his lips. He didn’t really like confrontation, especially with someone who was bigger than him, but he did need to get to the crime scene inside the park. He weighed his options before taking deep breaths and approaching the three.

“Excuse me,” he said, his voice quite louder than the man’s, effectively drawing attention to himself. When three pairs of eyes moved to him, he froze, gulping.

The blonde man’s eyes widened when he turned his head, but none of the four had the time to speak before a loud “POLLY!!” was heard from within the park.

Out ran Detective Trucy Justice, stopping just short of the police tape to quickly duck underneath and tackle her little brother, nearly knocking him over. 

Apollo let out a gasp as he was squeezed close, Trucy fake sobbing into his hair and mussing it up as she nuzzled him. Hesitantly, he raised a hand to pat her arm, flushing when he realized that the other three were still watching him as he was hugged by a grown woman like she hadn’t seen him just a few hours ago.

Finally, out of the mercy of her heart, Trucy pulled away, letting out a sniffle as she fixed his hair for him. “Oh, Polly, why didn’t you just come over earlier? I was getting antsy waiting for you!” She whined, a pout forming on her expression.

“Truce, when I say ‘I’ll see you at 12:30’, I mean it,” he told her, brushing his bangs away from his eyes. His sister took a quick look at her watch before a frown replaced her pout. “It’s 12:31, Polly! You’re a minute late!” She pointed at her watch as she spoke, leaning forward slightly to meet his eyes.

Apollo returned her frown, crossing his arms. “Yeah, cause you spent a minute hugging me,” he replied, huffing.

The two turned their heads when the blonde man nearby cleared his throat, with what looked like an amused smile on his face. “I hate to bother, but Fraulein Detective, could we have a word…?” he asked.

“Ah, yeah!” Trucy finally seemed to realize that there were other people present, turning Apollo around so that they’d both properly face the others. “Polly, meet Mr. Klavier Gavin, he and his assistant agreed to find my panties for me!” She chirped, placing her gloved hands on the spikes on his shoulders.

At the mention of the blonde’s name, Apollo perked up, immediately recognizing it. His bracelet twitched momentarily on his wrist, and he held a hand to it as he frowned. “Trucy…” He mumbled, and she squeezed his shoulders. “I know. We’ll talk about it later,” she whispered, squeezing his shoulders.

Thankfully, Gavin seemed to notice the slight discomfort and backed off a little, only focusing on Trucy. “A pleasure to meet you both. Fraulein, I have this for you…” he trailed off, handing a letter to the detective.

She stepped out from behind Apollo and took the letter, resting her arm on his shoulder and leaning her weight onto him. Apollo stumbled slightly at the sudden added weight, but somehow managed to keep her upright as she opened the letter. He angled his head slightly to take a peek at the letter himself.

“...Why does it say ‘Hit Request’?” He raised an eyebrow, looking at the attorney, who tensed up. “Ah… she... must have used the family stationary....” Gavin chuckled, Apollo’s bracelet tightening once again as he scratched the back of his neck.

He took one more look over the letter before Trucy folded it up again. Seems like he’ll be going against him tomorrow, which is honestly just the cherry on top of Apollo’s already bad day.

“Well, looks like everything’s good on your end,” His sister told the defense attorney, smiles and all. She gestured for the officer to scoot aside before passing the police tape once again, motioning for the others to follow.

Apollo followed right behind her, glancing behind him momentarily to watch Gavin and his assistant pass under the tape as well. He jogged to catch up to his taller sibling, and once he was by her side, she slung an arm around his shoulder as they walked.

“You know what this guy did, Trucy, how are you on friendly terms with him?” he spoke in a low whisper, his eyebrows furrowed. Remembering what this defense attorney did to his family made his blood boil, his hands curling into fists. 

Trucy squeezed his shoulder, a sad smile on her expression. “I know, but, you can’t help but think that he’s just doing his job, you know?” She replied, the hand on his shoulder reaching to pinch his cheek. 

At this, Apollo huffed, his head snapping to her direction. “ ‘Doing his job’!? Mom’s not a murderer, you should know that more than I do!” He hissed, his nails digging into his gloved palm. 

She shushed him, looking behind her quickly before turning back to him. “I know she isn’t, Apollo, but that’s what defense attorneys do, right? He had to get his client off the hook somehow.” She frowned, sighing. “Especially considering who the client was…”

Apollo mirrored her frown, sighing as well, loosening up his fists. “Mr. Wright seemed pretty conflicted when I went to his office after the case,” he told her, now crossing his arms instead. 

Trucy removed her arm from his shoulder, humming. “Can you blame him? He and Edgeworth seemed pretty close.”

The two decided to leave it at that, Trucy glancing behind her every now and then as they made their way to the crime scene.

“Listen, Polly, I don’t wanna alarm you, but that girl with Mr. Gavin keeps staring at you.” Trucy snorted, crossing her arms. “Wha-?” He frowned, turning around to try and catch this girl staring at him.

Lo and behold, the brunette teen in a lab coat froze momentarily when their eyes met, seemingly standing straighter. Gavin seemed to notice as well, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow and a silent question. 

Unknowingly, Apollo mirrored his expression, feeling his bracelet clamp around his wrist as the girl reached into her bag. 

Their little group stopped in its tracks to watch her pull something square shaped before she approached the two in front cautiously, the latter turning around fully.

With both her hands, she held out the CD case towards them, a white marker in one hand. Both siblings immediately recognized the hot pink cage on the cover, especially since Apollo was inside that cage, while a significantly larger version of Trucy and Clay were peeking into said hot pink cage with the word GALAPAGOS in bold letters right below it.

Of course they’d recognize it, it was their album after all, and it seems that this girl is a fan. 

“Well, why didn’t you just say something?” Trucy grinned, taking the album and the marker from the girl as she straightened up, her flustered expression more clearly seen as she brushed her hair away from her face. 

After signing it with a flourish, Trucy handed the album and the marker over to Apollo, who scoffed at the little top hat she drew on top of her signature. 

He could hear Trucy speaking beside him, presumably to the girl, but he was too distracted by the picture on the album, pursing his lips, the white marker poised above the plastic case.

He mumbled to himself as he signed right above his smaller self in the cage. He cringed internally, wishing they chose another picture for this particular album.

He was in the middle of remembering the album’s photoshoot, the secondhand embarrassment seeping in, before he was abruptly taken out of his funk, Trucy bumping him with an arm and a curt smile, clearing her throat. “I said, it’s always nice to run into a fan, right, Polly?”

Apollo looked up at her, then to the girl, who was looking at him expectantly. It took a moment for his brain to catch up before he handed the album back with a small smile, “Sorry, sorry… it’s always nice to run into a fan, yeah.”

Gavin burst into a snort, quickly hiding behind his hand, looking as if he were sustaining a laugh. Both the girl and Apollo flushed pink, unsure if he was snorting at the girl, or at the prosecutor. Either way, he wasn’t going to ask, nor was he all that willing to find out either, and he quickly turned on his heel and speed walked towards the crime scene, Trucy following behind with a snicker of her own.

They eventually arrived at the crime scene, Apollo raising an eyebrow at the familiar puppet that was tied to what looked like a noodle cart. He pointed a finger to it, looking to Trucy. “Oh, haha! We had to take the body in for forensics, so Mr. Hat is taking the corpse’s place!” She explained, walking over to the wooden puppet and giving it a pat on the back.

The two siblings quickly turned their heads at the sound of a gasp, the girl from earlier pointing to the noodle cart and tugging at Gavin’s sleeve, who looked just as surprised as she was. “It’s Mr. Eldoon’s cart!” she exclaimed, letting go of the defense attorney to do a quick one around the cart.

“Ja, I noticed… could be better circumstances though…” He furrowed his eyebrows, crossing his arms. “Well, it’s one off the checklist, so it’s still a win, scientifically speaking,” the girl said as she returned to the attorney’s side, pulling a notepad out of her overstuffed bag.

At that moment, Apollo’s phone decided to start ringing, and Trucy gave him a questioning look as it did. “Sorry, I’ll go take this.” He reached into his pocket for his phone, pulling it out as he left the crime scene, going further into the park.

Once he read the caller ID, which was DORK with a star emoji next to it, he quickly answered the call, pressing his phone to his ear. “Hey dork,” he answered, snorting.

“Hey, nerd! I got Jewel’s text about your gift! Not back home yet though, but I’m hyped to see it!” Clay responded, and he could practically hear his best friend’s infectious smile through the call. 

He chuckled, shoving a hand into his pocket. “I hope you like it then, it took a hot minute to get done, but you kept complaining about your coat being ‘unfashionable’ for shows, so I had to do something about it eventually.”

Clay let out a loud gasp, and Apollo could hear him jumping up and down. “ DUDE.” was all he could let out, and he gave a laugh at his reaction. “ Bro,” he responded, shaking his head. “DUDE!! Aw shit, now I’m REALLY hyped! Ahh, but I gotta get back to training, just finished my lunch break, I’ll talk to you later, man! We still got stuff to sort out!” 

“I know, I know, I’ll talk to you later, Clay, have fun with your training,” he said, chuckling as the other let out a whoop before hanging up. Right before he could shove his phone back into his pocket, though, he received a text from his boss asking him to come back to the office.

He frowned at the message, but quickly made his way back to the others, all three looking around the crime scene, Trucy knelt on the blue tarp with a hand on her chin. “Hey, Truce, I gotta get back to the office, but I’ll come back and take a look at your notes, alright?” He told his sister, pocketing his phone and unzipping his bag.

Trucy looked up at him blankly, blinking. He thinned his lips, his shoulders dropping. “You will take notes, right?” He furrowed his eyebrows. She quickly gave back a smile, patting herself before pulling a small notepad from seemingly out of nowhere.

“Yes! Notes! Definitely, definitely, mhm!” She nodded, flipping the notepad open. Apollo sighed, shaking his head as he reached into the paper bag and pulled out a red tupperware, Trucy taking it with a large grin. 

“Right.. I’ll see you later…” He looked to the blonde man and his assistant, who stopped their investigation to look at the other two, “...And I guess I’ll see you in court,” he said with more venom in his voice than he intended, but he couldn’t exactly help it, looking at the face of the man who threw his mother in jail.

He looked back to Trucy, mouthing NOTES before making his way back to the prosecutor’s office on his skateboard.

Chapter Text

“Oh, Mr. Justice doesn’t like you at all .” Ema snickered, watching as the prosecutor left the park. Klavier only sighed in response, rubbing the back of his neck.

He was already exhausted, and it was only midday, though the endless amounts of absolute insanity and effectively giving the worst possible first impression to his opponent in court tomorrow by doing absolutely nothing, was enough to justify the bags under his eyes that were deepening by the minute.

“Well, I suppose I can’t blame him, I did … kind of…” He trailed off, pursing his lips, wondering if he should even continue his sentence. He wasn’t going to, but the look of confusion and anticipation the girl gave him only made him feel guilty, guiltier than he already felt anyway. “...Send his mother to jail…”

Ema squinted, before gasping, “Wait, that was you?!” she took a step back, hands on her hips. “So you’re the reason the concert was pushed back a week! I bought those tickets in advance and now I don’t even know if my tickets are still good for the new date!” she exclaimed, Klavier raising his hands in surrender as she pointed an accusatory finger.

“Oh, don’t worry, your ticket will still be valid!” Fraulein Detective chimed in, approaching the two. “Polly just needed another week to calm himself down and all, even if calming down meant more work for the both of us…” She frowned at the sentiment of more work, crossing her arms. 

As the detective approached, the already broiling feeling of guilt in Klavier’s stomach rose further, and he looked away to avoid her eyes. “I’m… truly sorry, Fraulein Justice, I don’t have any excuses for what I’ve done,” he told her, giving a slight bow.

The detective gave a sad smile, clasping her hands behind her back. “I’ll be honest, Mr. Gavin. I don’t really know if I could fully forgive you, but it’s alright, I get it, you were just doing your job,” she remarked, shrugging. “Apollo… he needs more time to understand that, and yeah, he kinda does hate you… but I say we should put all that in the past and work together for now, okay? We still need to solve this case after all,” she continued, giving Klavier a brief pat on the shoulder as he straightened up.

“You’re very kind, Fraulein Justice,” he replied, giving a sad smile of his own. Fraulein Justice chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. “Naw… I’m just what Polly would call ‘soft’,” She said, shaking her head.

The two looked to the teenager, who cleared her throat. “So… Like, I don’t know if it’s just me, but we literally have a crime scene to investigate,” she said, pointing a thumb to the noodle cart. Klavier squinted at her, “Weren’t you the one that started this whole conversation by bringing up Prosecutor Justice?” he reasoned, raising his hands in question. “Was I the one who continued it?” she snarked back, mocking Klavier’s pose.

Detective Justice laughed, giving the two a pat on the back. “Aw, aren’t you guys supposed to be partners? You gotta work together!”. Both of them immediately straightened up, pointing at each other as they faced the detective. “We are NOT partners,” they said in unison.

This only made the detective crack up even more, but was able to restrain herself from having a laughing fit, looking away and shaking her head, a hand over her mouth. Once she composed herself, she cleared her throat, “Come on, let’s talk about the case!” she said, pulling out her notepad out of nowhere once again before gesturing for them to follow.

“...How does she keep doing that?” Klavier whispered to Ema, raising an eyebrow. Ema shrugged, “Magic, man, it's confusing science,” she whispered back, before following the detective, the attorney trailing behind her.

“So! The report actually came in just last night,” she began, writing things down on her notepad as she stopped right in front of the wooden puppet that was tied at the front of the cart. “The body was found pretty much exactly the way you see it here, except, ya know, it was real.” She shrugged, gesturing to the puppet.

Ema frowned, crossing her arms. “Poor Mr. Hat,” she remarked, presumably referring to the puppet. Detective Justice chuckled, giving the thing a pat, “Oh, don’t worry, he probably won’t be here for too long,” she replied, reassuring the younger girl.

Klavier crossed his arms as well, looking at the bizarre scene in front of him. “I’ve had this question ever since I’ve seen it, but, why was the body pulling the cart?” he asked, hoping that perhaps the detective at least had some kind of idea.

The detective hummed, tapping her pen on her chin before shaking her head. “Mm… If I knew, I don’t think I’d still be here, not gonna lie…”

Well that was extremely helpful.

“What about the victim? Do you have a cause of death? Or, well, anything about the victim really,” he decided to continue trying getting information from her, considering he knows next to nothing about this case he’s going to trial for the very next day .

That seemed to spin some cogs in her head as she snapped her fingers, her pen disappearing from her hand (Seriously, how does she keep doing that? Klavier looked around the woman to try and see where the pen went). 

“Now that you mention it, I actually just received the autopsy report from the precinct, right before you guys got here!” she quickly scurried to the side, where she picked up the manila folder, resting beside all the other equipment the police had brought for investigation.

She opened up the folder, the other two approaching to take a look as well. “Mm… Victim’s name is Pal Meraktis, and he was a doctor. Cause of death was… bullet to the temple, 9mm, a.k.a the pistol we found.” She read out loud, before abruptly shutting the folder, startling the two. She placed the folder back down as the other two hummed in thought.

“A pistol?” Ema raised an eyebrow, looking back at the puppet that posed as the victim’s corpse. “Yep! Not really the easiest thing to come by nowadays,” Justice explained, shrugging, putting the folder down before, well, the only way Klavier could describe it was before she summoned her pen once again to scribble a few things down in her notepad, just as Ema was doing.

He took a moment to process this new information, pursing his lips. 

The detective was right, a pistol was difficult to attain in this day and age, unless of course, you were an officer, or, well… a gangster, and unfortunately, that was exactly what Klavier’s client was.

“I could get a copy written for you real quick if you’d like, Mr. Gavin, save some time for you?” Justice proposed, presumably done jotting down notes for her brother. “I’d appreciate that a lot, danke, Fraulein.” Klavier smiled, being pulled out of his thoughts and ignoring Ema’s eyeroll.

Though, her expression would immediately change when something caught her eye, right next to the puppet. “Hey!” She called the two’s attention, quickly making her way over to the handle sticking out of the grass, its blade keeping it upright. “It’s a knife!” she pointed to it, crouching next to it.

“A shiv, actually,” Justice corrected, approaching the teenager, who was nodding slowly and writing the term down in her own notepad. “The police are assuming it's the defendant’s, he is the son of known gangsters after all,” she explained, crossing her arms.

Klavier furrowed his eyebrows, now facing the detective. “Wasn’t the murder weapon a pistol? Why would you guys assume the knife-” “-Shiv!” Ema corrected, “-was the defendant’s?” he asked. 

The detective threw her hands up, exasperated, “Well the forensics team is weirdly late today, so I can’t really say for sure it’s his!” she explained, sighing. 

At the mention of the word forensics , Ema immediately stood up, sparkles in her eyes. “I will be your forensics team,” she said to the detective, who only raised an eyebrow. “What?” she smiled in amusement, her head tilting while Klavier pursed his lips and threw his head back.

“Maybe we should leave this to professional forensic investigators, Fraulein-” “-Ema Skye, ma’am! I don’t think I actually introduced myself, but I’m a future forensic investigator.” The girl took the woman’s hand, shaking it. 

Justice’s smile of amusement widened, “Just a couple minutes ago you were pretty shy to talk to us, but now you’re just full of energy, aren’t ya?” she remarked, chuckling. Klavier sighed, shaking his head, “Yeah, she was like that a while ago too, I’m starting to think she actually thrives off my suffering,” he said, giving a playful glare to the girl, who only gave a hmph! in response.

“It’s weird to be talking to, shaking hands with, and working with someone I admire and watch a lot, but I’m putting my dignity on the line for the sake... of science!” she declared, raising a fist in the air in determination.

Even Klavier had to admit that her dedication to forensic science was at least a little cute.

“Well, show me what you got, miss forensic investigator!” the detective played into her antics, mimicking her pose. At this, a wide smile spread on Ema’s face after basically being given explicit permission to mess around the crime scene with her tools, and she immediately scurried back to the shiv, rummaging through her bag.

The two adults followed, crouching down nearby and watching Ema pull a small vial of powder from the bag. “Is it really wise to let a teenager handle these kinds of things, Fraulein Justice?” Klavier whispered to the detective, raising an eyebrow. “Listen, Mr. Gavin, I’ve been stuck here all morning, all by myself, with only a wooden puppet to talk to,” she started, before looking back at him, “I might not really be in my best state of mind.”

The two looked back at the girl as she let out an exclaim of victory, motioning for the two to look at the handle of the shiv, which now had a white fingerprint on it. “Oh! Very impressive, Miss Skye,” the detective remarked, sounding genuinely impressed. “Please, just call me Ema.” The girl giggled, waving a hand towards the detective.

Oh so now she was friendly? Klavier pursed his lips once again.

“I believe we have some samples of fingerprints sent over from the precinct, let’s see if we got a match.” Justice stood from her crouching position, walking over to where the autopsy report was put down, looking through the files before returning with a series of black films with different fingerprints.

She handed these to Ema, who immediately began comparing them to the fingerprint found on the shiv. “Aha!” She exclaimed, “We have a match!” she stood from her own crouching position, Klavier following. “Well, whose is it?” Justice asked, prompting the teenager to read the name at the bottom of the film.

She paused, staring at the film... before looking to Klavier. “...You’re not gonna like this,” she told the attorney, causing him to sigh. “It’s our client’s, isn’t it.” He hung his head low, already knowing that it was, indeed, Kitaki’s fingerprints. In fact, the detective’s I told you so face was enough to tell him, though Ema’s nod of confirmation only dampened his mood even more.

He put his head in his hands, groaning as the detective gave him a pat on the back, chuckling. “Don’t be so down now , Mr. Gavin. The real battle hasn’t even started yet!”

And Oh God she was right. 

There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that this would be brought into court tomorrow as evidence against his client, who he hasn’t even met yet.

Speaking of his client though…

“Say… Miss Justice, what do you know about our client, anyway?” Ema seemed to read his mind, handing back Kitaki’s fingerprints to the detective. 

“Well… we know he’s the son of the Kitaki gangsters… and that he’s been throwing his weight around quite a bit. Violently. In the detention center,” she told them, closing her eyes and tapping her pen against her chin as she thought to herself.

But with every punctuation, the light at the end of the tunnel only seemed to get dimmer. 

“Is there anything else we could know about the victim in the reports?” Klavier asked, deciding to at least gather as much hope as he could, while he could. 

She walked back to the files, humming as she skimmed. “Weelll… he’s a pretty well-off physician in the local area… he actually owns the Meraktis Clinic,” she told them, turning back. “That’s probably why the cops were there, huh?” Ema remarked, looking to Klavier, who nodded.

At this, the detective raised an eyebrow, “You’ve been to the clinic?”. Ema nodded, beginning to explain the whole ordeal with Eldoon’s stolen stand.

Afterwards, Justice hummed, jotting down what she heard. “...So… what you’re telling me is… Dr. Meraktis stole the stand…” She walked over to the aforementioned stand, “...and pulled it all the way here?” she gave a confused expression, bordering on baffled.

Klavier opened his mouth, but couldn’t exactly find the words, so he nodded instead. At the confirmation, her arms dropped, looking back to the stand, then back to the pair. “...But… but why...?” she trailed off, gesturing to the stand.

The attorney shrugged, his own exasperation showing as he threw his hands up. “Scheisse, I wish I knew ,” he said, sighing.

The three stood in silence, processing all the information they’ve gathered so far, before the detective broke it with a very good point.

“...You guys haven’t met your client yet, have you?” She asked, pointing to the two with her pen. They looked at each other, realizing that one, an incredible amount of time had passed without them noticing, and two, they completely forgot about the most important part of their investigation.

The woman seemed to have noticed this realization in their eyes, as she shook her head, almost in disappointment. “Haven’t even had my lunch… Right, well, you guys should wrap up and start making your way to the detention center, visiting hours is almost over,” she told them, briefly looking at her watch.

Taking her advice to heart, they did one more look around the crime scene, Ema once again rummaging through the trash nearby while Klavier did a one around the cart.

Once they were satisfied with whatever they found, the two thanked Detective Justice for her help, and immediately jogged towards the detention center, Ema trailing behind.

“Could you please slow down?!” She huffed, her hand grabbing the back of his shirt, which didn’t really cause him to stop. “Listen, it’s not my fault you weren’t born with longer legs, but we don’t have time to slow down,” he replied, looking behind him briefly, only to be pelted with another Snackoo out of nowhere.

After a barrage of verbal abuse and wasted snacks, they finally arrived at the detention center, only to be told that meeting hours were over.

The two groaned, Ema looking at her watch and approaching the guard that delivered the unfortunate news. “But we still have three minutes! We’re not too late!” she argued. The guard only sighed, “Look, I can put in a request for you, but don’t expect anything. The father’s talking in the private room with him.”

Oh God.

Winfred “Big Wins” Kitaki was exactly the last person he wanted to encounter, especially not after what could only be described as an absolute fever dream of a day. 

Of course, the universe was working against him that particular day, and after sounds of loud arguing, and a crash, in comes the man himself, the guard letting him pass through,

Both Klavier and Ema looked up at him, intimidated by the raw power his stance radiated, though it was quickly ruined when they looked down, seeing the cute print of a fox on his bright yellow apron. 

They both stared at the cartoon fox for a good minute, Ema’s mouth gaping, before their heads snapped back up by the sound of the man clearing his throat. He stared at them with what Klavier could only assume to either be very deeply set eyes or really thick eyebrows, either way, it struck fear that Klavier could only hide behind a tense smile.

“...You Wocky’s lawyer?” Herr Kitaki spoke with a deep voice, shaking Klavier to his core. It took him both a moment and Ema’s elbow for him to realize that he was supposed to respond, so he cleared his own throat and nodded. “Y-yes sir, Klavier Gavin, sir,” he spoke, hoping that his voice didn’t give away the fear he concealed behind a smile.

There was another awkward pause as Kitaki scanned the lawyer up and down, before he hummed. “Well, I’m Big Wins Kitaki, fourth head of the Kitaki family... capice?” he introduced himself, his pocketed hand leaving to slowly shake Klavier’s hand, the latter not even realizing the girl beside him had raised it for him.

“W-we came to speak to your son, sir…” Ema spoke from beside Klavier, and was probably the softest spoken she’s been that day. The other man let out a gruff response, bending down to meet Klavier’s eyes.

“...Mr. Gavin.” “Ja--Yes, sir?” “My son’s innocent,” he stated, “He killed no one, and if he were found guilty…” He trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence to the two’s imagination, and they unfortunately knew what he meant to finish with.

And speak of the devil, out peeks the man of the hour himself, Wocky Kitaki, who smacked the bullet proof glass hard enough for everyone to notice his presence. “What’s the big idea, old man?!” He yelled through the hole in the glass, hands pressed against the barrier.

Klavier and Ema leaned slightly to look at the much-smaller-than-expected man on the other side of the glass, his hulking father blocking their general view. 

“You can’t treat me like a kid no more!” Wocky continued, pointing a finger towards his father, who slowly turned around. “You know I…” He trailed off as Kitaki faced him properly, presumably with a stern look on his face. 

At first, it seemed that having a look at his father triggered something within the younger man, stopping him in the middle of his sentence, but one look around his father towards his lawyer immediately snapped him back into reality. “...I wanted to go to the clink! I like it here!” he continued, turning to Kitaki once again.

Finally, he pulled himself off the glass, “A G's not a G till he does hard time!” he began, now striking a fighting pose. “You’ll see. When I get outta here, things’ll change!”

“Silence!” Kitaki yelled out, startling both parties on either end of the glass, Wocky dropping his pose almost immediately. He then turned back to Klavier, who was prying a startled Ema off his arm. “My apologies, Mr. Gavin,” he said, briefly glancing back to Wocky, “...He’s usually such a nice boy.”

Klavier tried to keep his expression of disbelief in, but clearly wasn’t able to, as there was another bang on the glass, and a flustered looking Wocky pressed himself against the glass once again. “You can't take me under your wing this time, old man!” he exclaimed, before a guard finally came into the room to pull him off the glass, and presumably back into his holding area.

“You heard me!” he continued yelling out as he was being dragged out of the room. “I don’t need no trial! I did it!” his voice trailed off, eventually cutting out completely as the door was shut behind him, leaving the room on the other side of the glass empty.

Kitaki let out a big sigh, shaking his head, before looking back at the other two in the room. “I think that’s enough for today, Mr. Gavin.” He gave a bow, then walked between the two to leave the detention center. “Don’t let me down tomorrow.”

Dejectedly, Klavier and Ema walked side by side back towards the office, Klavier putting his suit jacket back on as the sun began to set. And seeing the sun begin to dip behind the buildings of the city caused Ema to let out a groan, and so did her stomach.

Klavier looked at the girl, before realizing that they’ve been out the whole day, running to and from places, and neither of them even had the time to sit down and eat lunch. Realizing that, Klavier began to feel hungry as well.

He rubbed the back of his neck, humming, before finally breaking the silence between them. “Hey, on our way back to the office, we could stop by somewhere to eat,” he proposed, reaching into one of his pockets to make sure his wallet was still there.

Ema looked up at him, with a face Klavier could only describe as confusion, concern and gratitude rolled into one. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again, looking at the path in front of them instead as she mulled over his proposal, now crossing her arms.

She took a moment to think, intentionally kicking the stray pebbles on the sidewalk as she did before she looked back at him. “There’s a convenience store nearby, there should be some sandwiches they can heat up there,” she said, for once not being hostile or snarky towards him.

Must’ve been the hunger.

Regardless, it was a breath of fresh air, and he took the momentary politeness in stride, motioning for her to lead the way, which she did, skipping to get ahead of him.

By the time they got back to the office, two sandwiches apiece, the sun was already low in the horizon as twilight faded and dusk settled in. 

The artificial lighting of the street lamps illuminated their way as they ate, Ema with her grilled cheese, and Klavier with his chicken.

“So much for talking to our client.” Klavier sighed, taking another bite off his sandwich as he walked, slower than usual to let the teenager keep up easier. The girl shrugged as she began biting into her second sandwich, crumpling the wrapper of the first and shoving it into the plastic bag hanging from his arm. “I dunno, I think we got a lot done,” she says, suddenly stopping in her tracks.

When she stopped walking, he stopped as well, raising an eyebrow as he watched her rummage through her bag, her sandwich still in hand. “I mean, you got your first case… we found Mr. Eldoon’s cart…” she said, “...and we found these too.” She motions for him to hold his hand out, something in her free hand.

Hesitantly, he does so, leaning backwards a little, just in case. But instead of something that could be potentially dangerous for either of them, something soft is placed into his open palm, and her hand pulls away to reveal a sort of beige cloth, bundled into a ball.

He looks at the bundle in his hand, then at the girl, who raises an eyebrow, gesturing for him to open the bundle.

This was starting to feel awfully familiar.

He placed his sandwich reluctantly into the bag to free his hand, carefully unbundling the cloth to reveal…

“Oh, come on now.”

Ema immediately burst into laughter as Klavier held up yet another pair of bloomers, his lips pressed tightly as he watched her double over, holding her stomach as she wheezed.

He quickly bundled the piece of clothing together, just in case there were people watching a grown man hold bloomers over a teenager, who was beginning to look like she was running out of air in her hysterics.

Klavier couldn’t help the smile that was crawling onto his expression as she finally straightened up, wiping a tear from her eye. “And here I was, beginning to think we were finally getting closer as friends.” He pouted, slapping the bundled bloomers into her open hand.

“Ha!” she exclaimed, shoving the bloomers back into her bag, “Keep dreaming, fop,” she snickered, biting into her sandwich and continuing their walk back to the office.

He shook his head. “I beg to differ, I think we really are bonding, albeit at my expense…” he pulled his sandwich back out from the bag, following after her.

“Mmm! Nope! Shut up!” she raised her hands to cover her ears, nearly dropping her sandwich in the process. A short laugh escaped Klavier before he could stop it, finding humour in her antics. “Oh, you’re just in denial, fraulein-” “Nope, can’t hear you, sorry!” “-You have to admit that we’re at least friends now-” “Woah! Is it just me or do I hear nothing??”

Passerbys would watch the two as they went back and forth, the teenage forensic investigator babbling nonsense as the defense attorney laughed and teased her endlessly on their way back home.

Chapter Text

To say that Klavier had a good sleep last night would neither be a lie nor a truth.

It’s true that it was the fastest he’s ever fallen asleep, and was the first time in months that he even had continuous sleep.

But at the same time, he had spent countless hours that same night mulling over the case today, rereading and rereading the scarce amount of information he was given the previous day, and effectively only getting around 3 hours of sleep, max.

Thankfully he remembered to set his alarm, and actually woke up earlier than his alarm because of the sheer paranoia of being late again. He chugged down an entire tumbler of coffee on his way to the courthouse, opting to walk instead of taking his Hog in hopes that the caffeine and the legwork would be enough to wake him up a little more for the trial (He also walked Vongole back to the dogsitter’s house, figuring he’d be out for quite some time again, much to her dismay). 

On his way there, he was hoping that his co-counsel would be Edgeworth, assuming that the notes Ema made yesterday were for her uncle, after all, he seemed well enough to be able to at least come to the courthouse, which actually wasn’t that far of a walk from the clinic.

But alas, how fleeting his hopes were! As after weaving through the crowd assembled in front of the courthouse (presumably waiting for Herr Justice) and entering Defendant Lobby no. 2, there was no sight of the silver-haired man, only his “beloved” niece, who was tapping her foot with her arms crossed, glaring at the man as he arrived.

“You’re late! Again!” she exclaimed, pointing a finger at him. It took him a moment to process her words through the haze of the sleep deprivation and of the caffeine that hasn’t quite kicked in yet.

Eventually he realized what she was saying and quickly checked his watch, raising an eyebrow. “I’m actually quite early, Fraulein,” he replied. 

Ema huffed, her hands moving to her hips as he looked around the lobby, “Well, you’re late to… to talking with the client! We don’t exactly have a lot of time on our hands, fop, so if you wanna win today’s case, maybe you should consider waking up a little earlier--" "...Where’s Herr Edgeworth?”

The girl blinked as she was interrupted, before huffing, ”He’s still at the clinic, he said his injury was acting up.” She began rummaging through her bag, the other furrowing his eyebrows. “His injury was--? He seemed alright to me yesterday...” he responded, before promptly being pelted square in the head with a Snackoo, yelping as he did.

“Doesn’t matter! I’m here, and he said that was enough, so it is enough!” she huffed once again, now munching on those Snackoos. 

He frowned, looking at the plastic bag in her hand. “You really shouldn’t be eating in the courthouse, Fraulein,” he said, now approaching the girl to take the snacks away from her. But before he could even touch the bag, she let out a yell, pulling it further away from his reach.

They were frozen for a couple seconds, Klavier leaning forward while Ema was stepping back, and would have stayed in that position if it weren’t for the sound of someone clearing their throat, which prompted the two to look towards the couch in the lobby, where the defendant was sitting, presumably having watched the two the whole time.

“Yo, sup!” Kitaki greeted the two once they noticed his presence (in Ema’s case, remembered his presence), “Hit me with the guilty verdict, G! See if I care,” he continued, now leaning back.

“You just hang loose and let things go with the flow. You know what I'm saying?” he said, attempting to cross his arms but failing miserably with the handcuffs fastened to his wrists. 

Ema squinted at the defendant, once again crossing her arms, but still holding onto her beloved Snackoos. “Mr. Kitaki, we talked about this! Aren’t you scared of going to jail?” she attempted to reason with the gangster, who didn’t even seem to be listening.

Kitaki scoffed, leaning forward once again, “See, that's the difference between me and you, little girl,” he said, gesturing between himself and Ema, who looked offended for being called a ‘little girl’.

“I ain't afraid of no cops! Real G's can't keep it real till they spend some hard time in the pen.” “That’s really not a good philosophy to follow, Herr Kitaki,” Klavier spoke up, frowning.

Kitaki gave a frown of his own. “Man, whaddya know ‘bout anythin’?” he scoffed once again, shaking his head. 

Klavier pursed his lips, already having it up to here with his client. But of course, he still had a job to do, and instead of voicing anything potentially nasty out, he let out a sigh. “Perhaps a little more than you, Herr Kitaki, but enough to know that a ‘Real G’ would value his life over his status.” He gave a tight smile, patting the younger man on the shoulder, the latter not exactly appreciating the gesture, but not saying anything further.

When he finally shut up, Klavier figured this would be the perfect time to finally properly talk to the other, opening his mouth to do so. But instead of the sound of his voice, he heard the doors behind him open, and the bailiff summoning them to the courtroom, as the trial was soon to begin.

As soon as the lobby’s doors closed, taking both the bailiff and the defendant with it, Klavier let out a muted groan as he leaned his head back, his carefully braided hair slipping from his shoulder. 

Ema let out a sigh of her own. “Welp. So much for that , I guess.” She followed after the two, tugging at Klavier’s sleeve as she passed him, the attorney begrudgingly following after, head in his hand.

The familiar sound of the gavel pounding the judge’s podium silenced the chattering audience quickly, as well as effectively making Klavier’s heart beat slightly faster.

Once again, it had been months since he stepped into the courtroom. He thought that having a shorter hiatus from it would calm his nerves at least a little bit, but he felt the same chills run down his spine whenever his head turned towards the courtroom’s entrance, almost expecting--

No, no. Now is not the time to remember the past. Right now, he had to focus , focus on the case at hand, on the files on the table, even on the girl standing beside him-

Wait, what?

“Ema?!” He hissed as his head whipped towards the teenager to his right, who was looking at the files sprawled on the table. “What are you doing behind the defense bench-??” “Trust me, fop, you’re gonna want me here,” she responded nonchalantly, as if she wasn’t possibly breaking multiple courtroom rules by munching on her Snackoos.

Before he could respond back, the courtroom doors opened to allow Prosecutor Justice to enter, the sound of reporters and clicking cameras momentarily heard before the doors were shut. Everyone had their eyes on the prosecutor as he made his way to the prosecutor’s bench, murmurs erupting throughout the audience.

Klavier took this as an opportunity to get a proper look at his opponent, who didn’t even spare them a glance as he arranged his own files on the table, and as he rolled up the sleeves of his red dress shirt up to his elbow, and as he adjusted the spiked vest he wore on top, and as he brushed the fringe from his admittedly beautiful-

Klavier, this was not the time to ogle the unfairly attractive prosecutor. He scolded himself, bringing a hand to his mouth as he tore his eyes away, feeling the embarrassed flush spread to his cheeks, snapping out of it even more when Ema nudged him, giving him a confused look, to which he could only shrug to in response.

He jumped as the courtroom doors once again opened to allow the bailiff to escort Kitaki into his position next to the defense bench. 

Once the defendant was in place, another pound of the gavel prompted both sides of the court to face the Judge, who was quickly looking through the case before facing the rest of the court. “Court is now in session for the trial of Wocky Kitaki,” his voice echoed around the walls of the silent courtroom.

Klavier straightened up a little more, pulling his braid back forward to hang over his shoulder before his hands traveled quickly to his back. “The defense is ready, Your Honor,” he said, on cue this time.

“The prosecution is ready as well, Your Honor.” Herr Justice’s voice was louder than the both of theirs, though he looked a lot more confident about it compared to yesterday, where he seemed to be pretty flustered about his loud voice.

Looking at him now, standing straighter and exuding more confidence than the previous day, Klavier realizes that he doesn’t actually know much about his opponent, besides his relation to his former mentor and the detective. Supposedly, he’s a pretty popular music artist, as evidenced by both the reporters outside the courtroom and the girl gawking at him from the other side of it. 

Besides that, however, he knows nothing about Apollo Justice as a prosecutor, and judging by the dirty look he’s been giving Klavier ever since he spoke, he seemed to know quite a bit about him.

“Long time no see, Prosecutor Justice,” the judge said, turning his head to properly face him, “Were you taking a leave of absence?” he asked, raising a bushy eyebrow,

Justice gave a polite smile, “Just busy with my band, we have a concert scheduled for next month so it’s been hectic.” He gave into the small talk, once again brushing the long fringe from his face. 

The judge nodded slowly. “I see...To be honest, I was a little concerned,” he began, “I feared that you might still be distraught over that one trial.” He looked briefly over to Klavier, who pursed his lips, bowing his head slightly.

Although he couldn’t see, he could feel the prosecutor’s gaze on him, and judging by the look on Ema’s face, it must not be a very flattering look. 

“I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to test the strengths of the idiot who sent my mother to jail,” Justice replied without missing a beat, both people behind the defense bench wincing in response.

After unknowingly marinating the defense bench as Klavier stood in front of the prosecutor’s angry gaze, the Judge finally cleared his throat, nodding. “Well…Understood. You can give your opening statements, Prosecutor Justice.”

He quickly pulled himself together, looking back to Ema as she tugged at his sleeve. “Who knows,” she started, carefully pulling the pink-lensed glasses from the top of her head and placing it on her nose, “Maybe he’s just all bark.” She gave him a cocky smile, tapping those same glasses.

Klavier smiled, nodding. Maybe he was all bark, probably why he hasn’t heard about him from his two years as an attorney, right? 

“The victim was Pal Meraktis, director of the Meraktis Clinic…” Justice gave the opening statement, and the game began. 

Chapter Text

Prosecutor Apollo Justice was not in fact all bark.

In fact, Klavier would go as far as to call the prosecutor a wolf in sheep’s clothing, concealing his bite behind his adorable facade.

Within the next half hour or so, Klavier learned quite a lot of things about this case, and about the prosecutor himself.

The first thing being, his client was actually serious about not caring about being thrown into jail, going as far as requesting the opposition to let him testify to his own motives for murder. Without consulting him.

So of course the little punk came up onto the stand and started spitting nonsense, but thank god that behind all that nonsense were actual golden nuggets of information he wished he knew beforehand.

Like the fact that Kitaki was actually a patient of Herr Meraktis’, and not only that, but a failed surgery of the late doctor’s, explaining that the bullet the doctor was supposed to take out was actually still very close to his heart. Even worse, Kitaki wasn’t told of this until much later, and is actually at risk of dying if the bullet was not attended to immediately.

And of course the brat  was finally scared straight by this piece of news, quieting down as the prosecutor delivered it to him.

The second thing he learned about this case was that there was a witness to the crime, because of course there was a witness to this already grim-looking case, even Ema seemed frustrated by this fact.

But it wasn’t the fact that a witness existed that made Klavier feel uneasy, it was the almost clinical nature of the prosecutor’s performance. Justice always went straight to the point, no extra flamboyance (as Klavier had begun doing to help calm his nerves, much to Ema’s dismay), no beating around the bush. The prosecutor dissected every statement from Kitaki’s mouth, either silently or verbally, and once he felt he was finished with the defendant, he immediately began introducing the witness.

It almost scared him, how precise his opposition was, and perhaps if it weren’t for his cute face, he would be frozen by intimidation.

And speaking of the witness, here he was, getting settled behind the stand as he took his vows to speak the truth, and nothing but the truth. While all that was happening, Klavier and Justice were having a little bit of a staring contest, one trying to study his opponent, while the other only gave a cold hard glare.

His gaze was only broken when Ema nudged him, frowning as she fiddled with her pink glasses. 

“I can’t help you if the only thing you’re focusing on is the prosecutor,” she scolded, putting the glasses back on and tapping its side twice.

Klavier pursed his lips, sighing afterwards. He really couldn’t get a read on Justice, besides the anger the man made no effort to hide at all, and this session was beginning to feel more and more like revenge.

Once the witness was sworn in, Justice turned his attention back to the case at hand, facing the witness, who was flipping through a book as he waited to be questioned. 

“Witness.” He gestured to the man in the graduation attire, “Your name and occupation, please,” he continued.

The witness took a moment to look at the prosecutor, before clearing his throat and shutting the book. “My name... is Wesley Stickler,” he said, now tucking the book into his arms. 

“By "occupation" I take it you refer to some labor that "profits" society at large, and supports a livelihood under which definition I must confess to being "unemployed" however, we must acknowledge the meaning of "identity" which is--”

“By which he means ,” Justice quickly cut in before the witness continued any further, his considerably louder voice trumping the witness’ shrill tone. Ema let out a thankful sigh as he did. “He’s a student. A junior at Ivy University, right?”

Stickler, who did not look at all pleased with being interrupted, nodded.

“Yes, in the Department of Science and Engineering,” he answered, taking his book out once more, its pages fluttering as it opened once again. “Filled with curiosity for all things, I spend my days in pursuit of truth, honing my--” “Please focus on the case at hand, Mr. Stickler,” Justice reminded the witness, interrupting him once again.

The judge nodded as the witness was introduced. “Very well, Mr. Stickler.” He banged his gavel against the podium, “Please testify to the court about what you saw on the night of the crime.”

Stickler raised a finger, as if to retort or correct, but was stopped when Justice raised a finger of his own, gesturing for the witness to shut his mouth . 

He sighed, but did as directe;

He chronicled the events on the night of the crime, explaining that he was on his way home from shopping, when he witnessed the crime, and very clearly saw both the victim, who was pulling the noodle cart, and the defendant, who was pointing a gun towards the former. 

Presumably, the weapon was fired once, squarely into the victim's forehead, killing him instantly.

Stickler also confirmed that no other witness was present besides himself.

“The pistol our witness was referring to, is this.” Justice stepped out from behind his bench, holding out a plastic bag with a pistol and a tag inside and handing it over to the judge to examine.

The judge looked at the pistol in the bag, humming before handing it to the bailiff, who gave it to Klavier to examine himself.

Klavier bowed his head in gratitude as he was given the pistol, Ema also scooching over to take a look. He noted that the tag also inside the bag indicated that there were at least two rounds fired, and that there were no fingerprints on the gun itself.

The gun was returned to the bailiff to be placed on the table of submitted evidence.

Once the defense was finished with their short examination of the gun, the judge banged his gavel once more. “Very well, Mr. Gavin, you may cross-examine the witness.”

Klavier flashed a smile, nodding. “Yes, Your Honor,” he responded, taking a quick glance at Justice, who was giving him a challenging look.

Bring it on, then.

He stepped out of the defense bench, adjusting his suit jacket as he thought over the witness’ statements, humming. There was something that definitely jumped out at him about those statements.

“Herr Stickler,” he called the attention of the student, who promptly closed his book as his name was called. “You’re absolutely certain that the gun was fired once?” he asked, clasping his hands together. 

He looked calm, cool like his mentor, and though his foot tapping was saying otherwise, he tried to keep it together under the judging gaze of the prosecutor to his right.

The witness huffed. “Yes. Of course it was one shot. Why do you ask?” Stickler replied, seeming offended that his memory was questioned.

Klavier merely smiled. “You see, Herr Stickler, that couldn’t be, as according to the court record, the pistol was fired twice .” He felt proud to find a contradiction, flustering the witness as he was told that he was blatantly wrong--

“Objection!”

The attorney turned to Justice as he interrupted his thoughts, now giving the same smile Klavier was, mockingly. “You have good eyes, Mr. Gavin,” he said, now crossing his arms.

Though it was obvious the compliment was meant to be condescending, Klavier nodded in gratitude, taking it in his stride. 

However, Justice’s mocking smile quickly dropped. “Unfortunately, I don’t see any reason why both shots in the pistol had to have been shot the same night.”

Now it was Klavier’s turn to drop his smile.. 

“Really?” The judge gave a confused expression, silently asking for elaboration.

The prosecutor nodded towards the judge. “The pistol came from the Kitaki Family mansion, it’s not unreasonable to assume the pistol was shot at another time in the past,” Justice explained, now turning towards Klavier, who was pursing his lips.

He shouldn’t be surprised, judging on his performance that day, it also wasn’t unreasonable to assume the prosecutor had that one planned ahead.

So, he gave a tighter smile, conceding. “You have a point, Mr. Justice. Thank you,” he told the prosecutor. “Only wanted to… point you towards the right path,” Justice replied, the mocking smile returning as Klavier turned towards the witness once again.

He mulled over his other statements, hand on his chin. “Herr Stickler, when you… ‘saw’ these two men, you’re also absolutely certain that they were the victim and the defendant?” he pressed, clasping his hands behind his back.

“After all, it was the night time, perhaps it was too dark for you to discern?” he continued, raising an eyebrow. 

Stickler sucked in a breath. “...Perhaps I was remiss in not mentioning this earlier,” he said, slowly opening his book once again. “And what would that be, Herr Stickler?” Klavier asked.

The student flipped a page in his book, “You see, in class, I always sit in the very backmost seat. Do you know why?” he began, Klavier only narrowing his eyes in confusion.

He then suddenly slammed his fist against the witness podium, startling everyone. “Because I do not wish anyone to copy my perfect notes!” he exclaimed, now raising that same fist in the air. 

The judge shared Klavier’s confused expression. “...And this relates to your testimony how?” The older man asked.

“I mention this to illustrate my predisposition to that which is "perfect",” Stickler explained, “It was dark, you say? Yet there are lights in the park.” He then raised a finger, looking around the courtroom as he made his point. “If I say the defendant was in the park that night, then he was in the park that night. It is a hard, immutable fact.”

Klavier hummed, nodding slowly. “And since you’re so sure that you saw the defendant with the victim that night, do you recall if either men were speaking?” he continued to press, now pacing idly in front of the podium.

Stickler raised a hand to his chin, tilting his head upwards as he rubbed it. “Now that you mention it, they were, though I cannot claim I heard them clearly,” he told the attorney, who gestured for him to continue.

“Only fragments, however... such as, ‘You lied to me!’ Oh, and... ‘I'm gonna give you a taste of your own medicine, pal.’” he continued. 

“If that’s true, then this is a vital piece of testimony!” The judge said, nodding his head. Klavier nodded as well. Now he knew Stickler was at least close enough to hear the defendant speaking, though that doesn’t really say much considering how loud Kitaki was.

Suddenly, the witness let out an exclamation, and Klavier raised an eyebrow. 

Stickler cleared his throat. “Might I be allowed to amend my testimony?” he asked, facing Klavier, who gestured for him to go on.

 “To be precise, he did not say "pal" but "man". Yes, that was the way of it. I swear it on my diploma!” The witness nodded in approval as he ‘corrected’ himself, but it only served to waste valuable time. 

But instead of expressing the inward annoyance he felt, Klavier opted to smile, nod, then walked back towards the defense bench, thinking over the statements once more, before he reached for the autopsy report, looking through it quickly.

Ema seemed to have thought of the same thing he did, and quickly leaned over the bench, pointing at one particular statement in the report.

“Herr Stickler, there seems to be another inconsistency in your statements,” he said, walking back towards the podium. The judge raised an eyebrow. “What would that be, Mr. Gavin?”

Klavier smiled towards the judge, “If we would take a look at the autopsy report, it clearly states that the entry wound was in fact, the right temple, and not the forehead as the witness claims,” he explained, gesturing towards the autopsy report in his hands. Hearing this, the judge quickly looked over the report on his own podium as well.

At the same time, Stickler seemed shocked, going pale as his contradiction was pointed out. “T-Temple?” he stuttered out, and an objection sounded from the prosecution.

Klavier turned towards Justice, who looked both confused and disappointed. “Is that actually what you’re objecting to?” he asked, sounding exasperated, shedding the calm composure he had beforehand.

The attorney frowned, furrowing his eyebrows. “It’s quite a clear contradiction, Herr Justice, I don’t believe I see what’s wrong with pointing out the obvious error,” Klavier defended himself, now crossing his arms.

The two had a staring contest once again, the courtroom stiff at the tension. 

“...Hey Braidy,” Justice crossed his arms as well, Klavier’s mouth gaping in surprise. “Br--?!” “Hypothetically speaking, let’s say you’re the one walking through the park,” the prosecutor began, “You see two men facing each other, and one’s pointing a pistol towards the other… what would you do?” he asked the attorney.

Klavier breathed in sharply, regaining his composure as a hand unconsciously reached towards his braid, “Well…I suppose I’d stop them,” he answered hesitantly, now realizing where the prosecutor was going with this, huffing when the other gestured for him to continue. “I’d yell, ‘Stop!’, or something along the lines.”

Justice nodded slowly, now turning towards Ema, “And you, miss?” he asked her. The girl looked surprised that she was even called, before she let out a breath and held her chin. “Uh… I’d probably tackle the guy…” she answered.

Then the prosecutor turned to the witness, who seemed to be catching on. “And what about you, Mr. Stickler?” he prompted him. 

“...Ah yes. Thank you for jogging my memory.” Stickler nodded in understanding. 

The judge allowed him to give another testimony, this time he told the court that when he saw the defendant raise the pistol, he yelled out to try and stop him. Unfortunately, he was too late, and as the victim turned his head towards Stickler, he was shot. Afterwards, the defendant presumably threw his pistol and ran.

The court sat (or stood) in silence, processing this new information. 

The judge nodded slowly, brushing his beard. “I see... So you attempted to stop the crime,” he said, addressing the witness, who nodded. “Indeed…. With composure.”

Ema scoffed, crossing her arms. “Maybe the gun wouldn’t have fired if he didn’t yell,” she said, pursing her lips. “I’m afraid it doesn’t matter anymore,” Klavier replied, sighing.

Justice, meanwhile, looked through the files on his podium, before pulling out a diagram of the crime scene, which he presented to the judge and, hesitantly, to Klavier. 

“Considering this new testimony…” he began, “The witness… stood here.” He pointed to the green dot between the victim’s and killer’s dots with a red pen, right where Klavier had been standing when he first entered the crime scene.

“Then, when he yelled out to the two, the victim turned his head towards him…” he then pointed to the victim’s blue dot, drawing an arrow in the direction the victim would’ve turned. “If the killer fired right at that moment, the bullet would hit the victim’s right temple.” He then drew an arrow from the killer’s dot towards the victim’s. “As in the report,” he finished, with a smug smile on his face.

Klavier bit his cheek, realizing the prosecution had an edge here. 

But soon enough, it was his time to cross-examine once again. Ema gave him a nudge once he was told to begin, both of them turning towards a particular piece of evidence on the table..

It seemed that great minds really did think alike.

He walked out of the defense bench once again, approaching the table and taking the bagged pistol. “Herr Stickler, you say that the defendant threw his gun away?” he asked, reading the tag included in the plastic bag.

The student huffed, “Yes, what of it? I remember it very clearly.” Stickler crossed his arms as he was questioned once again.

Klavier clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “But how can that be, when the weapon has no fingerprints?” he asked, placing the gun back down on the table. This didn’t seem to faze the witness though, as he shook his own head.

“Ah, a common ploy, made all the more common, I fear, by the prevalence of television,” he replied, uncrossing his arms to idly look through the book in his hand. “Criminals these days are loathe to leave fingerprints.” 

The attorney raised an eyebrow. “But you said he ‘tossed the pistol aside’,” he reminded the witness, jumping slightly at the sound of Ema slamming her own hands on the table, “And that he ran! He didn’t have time to wipe his fingerprints!” she exclaimed, 

This caught his attention, and he stopped in his motions once he processed the contradiction.

Justice, however, looked a little concerned. “You really shouldn’t be speaking over the actual attorney--” “Can it, spiky!” Ema interjected, seeming to completely forget she was even a fan of Justice, now pointing a finger at the prosecutor, who was taken aback.

It took a moment for him to regain his composure before he cleared his throat, opting to ignore the girl’s exclamations  “Well… What if the killer… the defendant, that is, was wearing gloves?” he argued, now turning to Klavier, who was still internally reeling from Ema’s interjection.

Ema opened her mouth to respond, but quickly closed it once she began processing the information, now looking frustrated instead of annoyed. This seemed to satisfy Justice.

“What do you say, Mr. Gavin?” Justice prompted him to respond.

The attorney thought about it for a second, looking briefly towards the pistol on the table, before turning back to the prosecutor to give his response.

With a smile, that was quickly becoming signature for him, he said: “No.”

Justice looked taken aback by his answer. “Why’s that?”

Klavier picked up the bagged pistol, turning it in his hand. “The report was very clear about one thing,” he began, reading over the tag in the bag. “That the fingerprints were wiped , which meant that there were traces still remaining on the weapon itself,” he told the prosecutor, who was processing this information.

“And since that is the case, this contradicts the witness’s testimony, as Mr. Kitaki would not have time to wipe prints off the pistol,” he finished, now looking towards the judge.

The older man nodded slowly, stroking his beard as he hummed. 

“...That may be. But it does not change what I saw,” Stickler stuttered, turning Klavier’s attention to him. “The killer... the defendant... He threw down the murderous weapon from his hand and fled.” he raised a finger, now looking triumphant, “And this pistol was found at the scene of the crime. Strongly suggesting that this was the weapon he disposed of!”

The courtroom sat in silence as all this happened, giving a brief moment in time for both sides of the court to process these statements.

“Sounds solid to me, Mr. Gavin,” Justice broke the silence, looking towards the attorney, who was chewing the inside of his cheek.

Ema only looked between the defense and the prosecution, before snapping her fingers to catch Klavier’s attention. “Oi! What gives?!” she threw her hands in the air in exasperation, raising an eyebrow.

Klavier opened his mouth, but no sound came out when he faced her with his palms open in question.

The girl gave him an expression he could only describe as disgust and disappointment rolled into one. “The guy literally just said ‘murderous weapon’, dumbass! Isn’t it obvious that he isn’t sure what whatever Wocky threw was?!” she reasoned, gesturing towards Stickler. “Meaning…” She then gestured for Klavier to continue her thought process.

“Meaning… you were just confused because a pistol was found at the crime scene,” Klavier concluded, looking back to Stickler.

Stickler once again huffed, tucking his book back into his arms. “W-Well! It can be said that I'm quite offended! While it is, indeed, true that once, in my youth--” “Shut up , nerd,” Ema interjected, scrunching up her nose.

Justice raised an eyebrow at this, pointing a thumb towards the girl, “Is she really allowed to do this--?” “What we can say for certain is that the witness saw the killer throw "something"... Does the defense have anything to say about this?” The judge interrupted, clasping his hands and looking towards the defense team.

The two looked at each other briefly, as if telepathically communicating. “If what Kitaki threw wasn’t a pistol…” Klavier began, “Then it had to be something else!” Ema finished for him, quickly looking through their files as the attorney jogged toward her.

“Jeez, you’re really letting a kid outplay you, Gavin?” Klavier heard Justice comment from behind him, the girl sticking out a tongue at her idol while the attorney rolled his eyes. For someone with such a pretty face, Justice really had a toxicity to his words.

The judge looked over to the defense team as they sorted through their files, “Perhaps you can inform the court as to the nature of this "something else"? What did the killer throw away before fleeing the scene?” he asked Klavier, who raised a finger as a signal to wait before finally pulling a sheet of paper out from the pile.

He travelled over to the Judge’s podium, handing over the sheet of paper. The older man looked over the paper, raising an eyebrow. “Is that... a sword? I saw one of those on the late night movie last night!” he remarked.

Klavier shook his head, sighing internally. “No, Your Honor, it’s a knife--” “Shiv!” “--found at the scene of the crime, with the defendant’s prints on it.” He looked back towards Ema as she interjected once again, but only received a shrug in response.

Turning back to the judge, he raised two fingers. “This proves two important things, that the defendant didn’t in fact throw down a pistol, and that he wasn’t wearing gloves,” he explained further.

“Wait, but you just proved two other things,” Justice once again spoke from behind Klavier, who turned towards him, arching an eyebrow in question. The prosecutor mimicked his earlier pose, with two fingers raised, “One, that the man the witness saw was Wocky Kitaki, and two…” he opened his palms, giving the attorney a confused, but amused look, “...that he was holding a knife, with the intent of harming the victim.”

Klavier looked at the man with a blank expression, also realizing the detrimental new information that he brought onto himself.

Well, lesson of the day, never underestimate the opponent, especially a Justice.

The audience in the courtroom began to murmur amongst themselves, even Kitaki himself, sitting in his spot next to the defense bench, looked a bit uneasy. 

Though, the judge was quick to silence the court with a bang of his gavel. “This court is of the opinion that our witness is fond of making assumptions. In that light, I believe it would behoove us to hear about what really occurred…” he then looked towards the witness, “...with less assuming, please!”

Stickler frowned, “It is always the same with you people. "Mark left the house on foot, and five minutes later, his brother left after him. How long would it take for Mark's brother to catch up to him... ...assuming that Mark never had to stop for a traffic light!" "Assuming"... Yes, that's what I said--” 

The judge cleared his throat to stop the student from rambling any further, “Ahem. What this court "assumes"... ...is that the witness will testify as to what happened after the shot was fired!” 

Another bang of the gavel made this official, and Klavier quickly made his way back behind the defense bench, where Ema was covering her face with both her hands. Though, she quickly recovered, adjusting the glasses on her face once again.

Hesitantly, Stickler gave his testimony. He stated that after the shot was fired, he could not prevent the killer from leaving, nor could he leave the scene himself. So he called the police with his phone, and within the 10 minutes that passed between the call and the police arriving, he saw nobody else in the park.

Once the witness was finished giving his testimony, Klavier looked over to Justice, who looked a little more tense than usual. Specifically speaking, the hand where his bangle hung was beginning to flex and twitch.

At the same time, Ema seemed to have noticed something as well, squinting her eyes at the witness.

But he didn’t have the time to ask what she noticed, it was time for the cross-examination.

Though, there was one problem when it came to this particular cross-examination, namely, that nothing was particularly jumping out at him. 

And since there were no contradictions in sight, Klavier opted to press the witness until some morsel of information was given.

So he asked questions. 

Which way did the killer run to? The opposite direction, away from the mansion! But Justice was already on the case, stating Kitaki could easily just loop back around.

Why didn’t the witness think of calling an ambulance instead? It was a shot to the head, idiot, anyone would die immediately after that.

Did anything else happen in those 10 minutes? Nothing, zero, zilch. It was late at night, nobody else would’ve been at the park.

“I think the court would agree when I say we want this cross-examination to end within the century, Mr. Gavin,” Justice told the attorney, crossing his arms. Klavier looked back at him with a frustrated expression, the more confident facade he tried to put on earlier was beginning to crumble away.

Even the judge seemed to notice that the witness’ testimony was rock solid, now leaning over to look at the defense attorney as he scrambled to find anything to latch onto. “It appears there are no objections to the witness's current testimony,” he spoke, picking up his gavel.

At this, Klavier widened his eyes. It can’t be over this quickly, can it?

“It appears there are no objections to the witness's current testimony.” The judge palmed his gavel, nodding solemnly, “I believe this brings the cross-examination to a close. This court will now declare a verdict for the defendant, Wocky Kitaki.”

Though before the judge could give the last, killing bang on the podium, there was a loud thud from behind the defense bench, and where Ema was supposed to be stood, there was nobody.

“Ema?!” Klavier yelled out, quickly making his way back to the defense bench as the courtroom burst into gasps and yelps of surprise, the attorney vaulting over the table in his adrenaline, fighting off the past memories as he looked over the girl’s body, laying on the ground.

He quickly kneeled and picked up the unconscious girl, carefully cradling her head in his arms as he pressed fingers against her neck to feel a pulse. “Is she alright?!” The judge was craning his neck to try and get a look from behind the judge’s bench, his bushy eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Your Honor, we need a recess to make sure the girl’s fine,” Justice spoke from behind the prosecutor’s bench, looking just as concerned. “In the meantime, Gavin, you should bring her back to the defense lobby while we call the paramedics.”

There was a bang of the gavel while Klavier carefully looped the girl’s arms around his neck, tucking his arm beneath her legs as he slowly stood up, quickly making his way to the defense lobby once they were adjourned for recess.

Chapter Text

Klavier could neither sit nor stand still, sitting at the end of the couch where Ema lay, bouncing his leg up and down as he fiddled with his hands in nervousness.

After Ema fainted just a few minutes ago, he had rushed towards the defendant lobby as quickly and carefully as possible, cradling the girl close as he jogged alongside court security.

At first, he didn’t see the use in having court security with him, as he could easily open the doors to the defendant lobby to himself. But after opening the doors of the courtroom, he was greeted by reporters (presumably waiting for Justice to leave the courtroom, though they were out of luck, he left through another door), who, after seeing the unconscious girl in his arms, quickly swarmed him, a barrage of questions following him as he ran to the defendant lobby as fast as he could.

Once he and Ema were safely inside, he had placed the girl on the couch and sat at the other end, waiting anxiously for the paramedics to arrive.

He took this opportunity of rest to think about anything that could’ve clued him in on Ema’s sudden collapse, anything that indicated that she was feeling unwell at any time. Though, the more he thought about it, the more he was reminded of what had happened years ago.

Flashes of wood splintering, the feeling of being tugged aside, a body laying on the ground behind the defense bench… It was becoming too much for him, and soon he realized that his leg bouncing wasn’t at all because of nervousness.

His eyes frantically searched around the defense lobby without him noticing, and the overwhelming instinct to run was knocking the wind out of him.

Shaky fingers reached for his braid, squeezing and pulling at the hair repeatedly, the soft fibers quickly becoming tangled while his other hand clutched at his chest, over his heart, in an attempt to slow the rapidly beating heart that was threatening to leave his chest altogether.

He closed his eyes, trying to remember what his therapist told him long ago.

Just breathe, Klavier.

Breathe.

He was in the middle of a breathing exercise when he felt a tug on his back, immediately startling him, a loud yelp leaving him as he jumped to the side.

He turned his head to see where the tugging came from, and saw Ema was sitting up, hand outstretched and eyes wide in surprise. He didn’t process this at first, in fact he stared at her blankly for a good few seconds.

“Ema?” he squinted, unsure if his eyes were playing tricks on him.

The girl chuckled nervously, “Jeez, if I knew you were gonna get scared that badly, I wouldn’t trust you when I actually faint,” she said, attempting to banter with him.

Though after realizing that the man was in too shellshocked of a state to reciprocate, she cleared her throat. “You, uh… you alright, Klavier?” she asked, furrowing her eyebrows. 

There was another moment of silence between the both of them, before the realization finally kicked in and he gasped. “You’re alright?!” he exclaimed, reaching to maybe hug the girl, but quickly decided against it.

Then a second realization hit him as he processed her words, now looking more offended than relieved. “Wait, what do you mean when you actually faint?!” he followed up, now sounding exasperated. 

He really went and had a panic attack for nothing.

Ema quickly gestured for him to shush. “Listen, that’s not what’s matters now. What the hell happened to you out there?!” she huffed, placing her hands on her hips.

“Well, you’re one to scold, Fraulein, what happened to you?!” he argued back, mimicking her angry expression.

She rolled her eyes, now crossing her arms. “I needed to buy you time somehow, because I don’t know if I’m the only one who remembers between the two of us, but you promised Mr. Kitaki that you’d defend his son!” she continued to scold him. “So why the hell did it look like you were about to give up?!”

Klavier pursed his lips, now raising a hand to cradle his head as a headache began to form. “What was I supposed to do? The testimony was rock solid, I don’t have superpowers, Fraulein,” he sighed.

“Yeah, but I do .” The girl beamed, putting her hands on her hips once again.

At this, Klavier raised an eyebrow. He was honestly not in the mood for her shenanigans now, not after both the terrible performance he gave in the courtroom and the literal panic attack he had mere minutes ago.

“Ema, I don’t think extensive knowledge in forensic science is gonna help us- - ” “No, listen you fop, it’s more than just that,’ the girl huffed, plucking the glasses that stayed miraculously on her head out of her hair.

“Uncle Edgeworth helped me make this, it can do all sorts of stuff, like detecting traces of luminol, and magnifying things, and so much more!” She gestured to her glasses with a glint in her eye. “It’s still a little buggy, and some kinks need to be worked out, but most importantly, it can actually mimic what Mr. Justice can do.”

Now he was just confused.

“What Prosecutor Justice…? Fraulein, you’re speaking riddles, are you sure you didn’t hit your head too hard on the ground earlier?” His head tilted, yelling out when the girl gave him a swift punch to the arm. “I’m serious! I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ema,” he huffed, rubbing the spot where he was hit.

“Just trust me,” she told him, slipping the glasses back on. “I don’t mean to sound inconsiderate, Fraulein, but I’ve known you for a day at most.” He frowned, furrowing his eyebrows. 

Ema returned the frown, crossing her arms. “Same here, but you’re the one that carried me all the way over here and stayed,” she responded. “I was being nice, I am being nice,” he replied, beginning to fix his braid from the abuse it sustained earlier.

Though before he could even pull his hair from the tie, Ema reached over and grabbed his hands, giving him a serious look. “Then keep being nice and listen to me!” she huffed.

“I don’t know how Mr. Justice does it exactly, but what I know is that he always knows when someone is lying,” she began, letting go of Klavier and raising a finger. “See, when people lie, or when they’re trying to hide something, they have ticks and fidgets, and Mr. Justice can see that…Somehow, I don’t actually know how it really works.

“But that’s not what matters, what matters is that these glasses basically do the same thing, and I can see when people are lying or hiding something, which…!” She then steps off the couch, both her index fingers raised, “Leads me to my next point, which is that Mr. Stickler is hiding something, I saw it!”

Klavier only blinked as he listened to her explain, open-mouthed. He took a deep breath and wiped his face with his hand, eyebrows still furrowed. 

“So… let me get this straight…” he raised his hands in front of his face, processing this new information. “Prosecutor Justice has… some kind of superhuman power to know whether or not someone is lying--” “Or hiding something.” “--or hiding something… because he can see...ticks… and fidgets…?” he repeated her words slowly, glancing at her for confirmation. “And you know this...how?” 

“Because Uncle Edgeworth told me,” she answered quickly, now shoving her hands into her labcoat’s pockets. Klavier pursed his lips. “Of course he told you and not me.” He nodded, holding back a sigh.

“I don’t mean to sound inconsiderate, Mr. Gavin, but you’ve known him for a day at most,” she echoed his words back to him, a smug look on her face.

Okay, that got him.

“You’re very witty, aren’t you Fraulein Skye?” he held a hand to his mouth, hiding the smile that was forming against his will.

“Even more of a reason to listen to me, really.” She smiled, before sitting back down. “Seriously though, Mr. Stickler is hiding something, or he’s lying, so you should find out what’s going on in that huge head of his!”

Oh, right, the case. The case that he was losing, that is.

“Remind me again how you came to that conclusion?” he pressed, now raising an eyebrow.

Ema looked more than happy to explain. 

“See, whenever he wasn’t confident in what he was, like with the whole pistol is a shiv thing, he fiddled with his book,” she answered, mimicking the witness’ stance in his last testimony, drawing attention to her thumb that was brushing the spine of an invisible book.

Klavier watched her mimic his movements, hand now on his chin. “So, you’re telling me that Prosecutor Justice could see that from all the way where he was standing?” he asked, visualizing the distance between the prosecutor’s bench and the witness stand in his head.

At the same time, he remembered the prosecutor’s tense stance after the last testimony.

“Apparently.” Ema shrugged, dropping her mimicking.

Though, before they could discuss further, the doors to the defendant lobby opened, and in came Detective Justice, who at first looked concerned before her expression quickly changed to confusion at the sight of Ema.

“I thought…?” she pointed to the girl, an eyebrow raised. All three looked at each other in silence before the detective huffed, placing her hands on her hips. “Don’t tell me you pretended to pass out to get more time, that’s cheating!” 

The defense team looked at each other in panic, before Ema quickly sprung up from the couch with a nervous smile.

“No, no! I did pass out, I feel better now though! Haha! Come on, Klavier, let’s go, we still have a case to solve!” The girl spoke in rapid succession, grabbing the defense attorney, who quickly stood up and followed her back to the courtroom, leaving a dumbfounded detective behind.

Three pounds of the judge’s gavel was all it took to silence the shocked courtroom.

When they entered, everyone was completely surprised at the sight of Ema, walking and talking completely fine, the judge even more surprised when he returned from his chambers.

Even Prosecutor Justice looked taken aback when he returned to the courtroom, scanning Ema up and down with furrowed eyebrows.

“Right, uh… Court is now back in session,” the judge announced, still looking over at the girl, who was casually brushing off her lab coat, nonchalant about the dozens of eyes trained on her. “...I’d like to say to the young lady standing next to you, Mr. Gavin…”

As she was mentioned, Ema looked at the older man, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re alright? That was… quite a fast recovery,” he asked, leaning forward in his seat.

“Rest assured, Your Honour, she’s fine,” Klavier replied for Ema, quickly untying his braid to tie into a bun instead.

“Well, fainting spells in California aren’t exactly new anyway, just never heard of them happening inside a building,” Prosecutor Justice commented, crossing his arms and squinting his eyes, his sister mimicking his stance behind him in the spectator area.

“...I think he’s onto me,” Ema whispered to Klavier, who slowly nodded.

There was a moment of silence in the courtroom before the attorney cleared his throat, clasping his hands behind his back. “The defense would like to request another cross-examination, Your Honor, I’m afraid there was something I forgot to ask,” he told the judge, deciding to trust Ema.

The judge pursed his lips, now clasping his hands together. “There was no issue with the witness's previous testimony… but I will grant your request.” He nodded, before raising a finger, “However,  this court will not permit stalling for time!”

Klavier nodded in agreement, and another bang of the gavel summoned Stickler back to the stand, and he readied himself for round 2.

Chapter Text

Stickler himself looked a bit annoyed about being there again, perhaps thinking that his time in the courtroom was over, but Klavier didn’t really care.

His testimony was repeated, but this time, both he and Ema were observing him closely, more specifically, observing his hands. And sure enough, there it was! Right as he mentioned his cellphone, his thumb began brushing against the spine of his book.

They looked at each other in realization, Klavier with an expression of disbelief, and Ema with the most smug, triumphant face he’s ever seen her wear.

Klavier took a moment to think, why would he display a nervous tic at the mention of his cellphone?

Then, an idea sprung into his head, a piece of evidence they found yesterday that now had a use.

“Herr Stickler, you say you called the police with your cellphone?” he turned back to the witness, determined to get to the bottom of this. 

“Indeed, I have.” Stickler raised an eyebrow, bringing his book closer to himself after noticing Ema squinting at it. 

“May I see it?” He reached out his hand towards the witness, gesturing for him to hand over his phone. Though, this seemed to only make him more nervous, now hiding his book from Ema.

“W-whatever for?” He sputtered, nearly dropping his book in shock.

Glancing momentarily at the prosecutor’s bench would show that the man behind it was just as confused, though closer inspection would show that he was more troubled than confused as he rubbed the skin beneath his bangle.

Klavier merely gave Stickler a polite smile, “If you show us, you’ll find out.”

At that moment, something must have clicked into Ema’s head, perhaps realizing Klavier’s line of thought, she started rummaging through her bag.

Stickler watched the girl nervously as she looked through her belongings, under the scrutiny of the courtroom as they all waited for him to show the defense his phone, he was beginning to crack under pressure.

“W-well, I can’t,” he finally responded, “...I don’t have it, you see…”. The spectators were taken aback, including Justice, but Klavier didn’t seem fazed at all.

A tug on his sleeve was enough to signal Klavier to hold out his hand, where Ema dropped something into it. Once he felt the weight on his palm, he presented the item to the court.

“Is this your cellphone, Herr Stickler?” He asked, showing the witness the bright pink phone.

A look of panic quickly spread over Stickler’s face when he looked at the phone, his mouth gaping in shock.

“W-Where did you get that?!” He exclaimed, a hand now clutching the wooden barriers of the witness stand, the courtroom beginning to devolve into chaos with this new revelation. 

“Strange, isn’t it?” Klavier hummed over the noise of the spectators, looking at the phone in his hand. “Herr Stickler, do you think you can tell me why your phone is sitting here, in my hand, right now?”

Just as soon as it began, the chaos ended with the judge’s call to order, striking his gavel to silence the crowd. “What is the meaning of this?!” The judge glanced over to the prosecutor for an explanation, only being met with a just as bewildered Justice.

Justice took this as a cue, pointing to the phone, “Where did you find that phone, Gavin?” he repeated Stickler’s question for him, raising an eyebrow.

“We found it yesterday,” the attorney began, now facing his opposition, “In the Meraktis Clinic garage!” Ema continued for him, slamming her own palms onto the table.

Gasps were heard around the courtroom, the judge stroking his beard in thought. “The Meraktis… why, that’s where the victim lived!”

The witness yelped as not only was his lie called out, but suspicion against him rose.

Eventually, once the courtroom was silenced again, Stickler was pressured to tell the truth, in which he admitted that he actually used a pay phone to call the police.

Taking advantage of the situation, Klavier continued to hammer in the fact that his cellphone was found in the victim’s garage, possibly on the night of the murder.

When called to prove that the phone was dropped then, Ema pulled out the broken car mirror from her bag (much to his bewilderment. She’s a lot stronger than she looks…), Klavier informing the court of Edgeworth’s accident on the night of the murder, where Meraktis’ car hit him before parking inside the garage.

“If you had dropped your phone before it was parked,” he said, gesturing to the pink phone for emphasis, “Then it would have been crushed, as we found it just under the car’s wheel.” He put the phone down, now snapping his fingers. “Ergo, Herr Stickler! You could only have dropped your phone after 9 PM, the night of the murder, which means you broke into the victim’s garage that night!”

Stickler held his hands to his head, standing on the witness stand in cold sweat as the offense kept coming after him.

“Mr. Gavin… are you naming the witness as a suspect in the muder of Pal Meraktis?!” The judge looked to the defense for answers, holding his gavel in both his hands. 

Though before he could respond, the witness yelled out again, now turning towards the prosecutor, “N-no! This is too much… say something!” He begged Justice, the latter’s hand stroking his chin.

“Well, I guess it’s worth saying this… No connection was found between Stickler and Meraktis,” he informed the court, his hand then vaguely gesturing towards the phone, “Until this, that is.”

Once the court was coaxed back into calm (and after an instinctive high five between Klavier and Ema, of which the latter quickly regretted her decision and began wiping her hand furiously on her lab coat as the former laughed), the judge stroked his beard in thought.

“I believe our next testimony will be most... revelatory,” he said, now looking at Stickler, who was practically shaking in his academic dress.  “Is the witness prepared?”

Stickler stammered out a yes and began his testimony. He claimed that on the way home from the supermarket, he must’ve dropped his cellphone as he passed the clinic. He reaffirmed that he walked through the park where he witnessed the crime, even specifying that he could see the defendant, the victim, and the stand clear as day.

When his testimony ended, he glanced over at Ema, who was watching the man through her glasses. When she noticed his attention on her, she only gave a frown and a shake of her head, signifying that he didn’t really have anything to hide in those statements.

The court was left to mull over the witness’ statements, the judge humming thoughtfully. “Yes… but your cellphone was lying in a garage…” He reminded Stickler, raising one bushy eyebrow.

“Ah, yes, well, as you can see my model of cell phone has a defect... It is given to rolling! It's quite a pain when I drop it alongside the road, you know,” Stickler scrambled to justify his cellphone’s presence in the clinic garage, a nervous look in his eyes.

The judge looked over the cellphone, which was now encased in a plastic bag. “...Looks like a normal cell phone to me,” he remarked, before shrugging and addressing the defense, motioning for them to begin the cross-examination.

After a bit of thought, Klavier decided to zero in on the oddly specific details given. Specifically…

“You say you remember the noodle stand?” He asked, looking through his files on the table and picking up the picture of the noodle stand in question.

“Quite well, yes!” Stickler responded quickly, presumably only now realizing Klavier’s abilities to wring information out of him. “For a student of the sciences, keen observation and healthy curiosity are vital! I remember everything! I could even read the sign!”

Now that was an interesting detail.

Klavier gave a polite smile, he almost looked like someone else he knew. “Is that so, Herr Stickler? What did the sign say then?”

Stickler gulped, looking a bit confused, but otherwise he complied. “I believe it said... Er... ‘NOODLE’. Yes, that was it.”

The attorney glanced at the picture in his hands, then at Stickler, then at the picture, then at Stickler, then-- At this point even Ema realized what was going on.

“You’re absolutely certain that the sign said ‘NOODLE’?” Klavier reaffirmed with Stickler, who was now beginning to look baffled at Klavier’s insistence.

“Why, just last week, my professor offered me this praise: ‘At least you have good eyesight, Stickler. I'll give you that.’” He replied, “ It read, without a doubt, ‘NOODLE’.” He punctuated NOODLE with a nod of his head.

Klavier gave the witness a smile of pity before taking the map given to him earlier, approaching Stickler.

“Well, then let’s take a look here then. You claimed you were standing...here, yes?” He pointed to the green dot that Justice had pointed out to him earlier, watching as Stickler nodded slowly. “Hm, well, it would be difficult to read the sign from over here, you see…” he trailed off, watching Stickler furrow his eyebrows.

“Y-You think so?” The witness spoke hesitantly, clutching his book as the attorney gave another smile as he stepped back.

“Herr Stickler I’d like you to read what the sign in this picture says, if you please?” Klavier showed him the picture of the stand, taken where Stickler presumably stood.

The witness squinted at the picture before his mouth dropped, a finger pointing towards the sign. “‘E-E-ELDOON’S’?! Inconceivable! I'm certain it was definitely ‘NOODLE’ for sure! Positive!”

The spectators once again began to murmur amongst themselves as Klavier presented the picture to the court, sparing a glance at Justice, whose eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at the picture that was handed to him.

“I'm afraid your professor was wrong about that eyesight,” the judge commented as he himself looked over the photo. 

“Not quite, Your Honor!” Klavier interjected, taking another photo from Ema as she handed it to him. “See, the stand does have a sign that says ‘NOODLE’... you just can’t see it from where the witness claims to stand.” He then showed the second picture to the court, where, indeed, the stand had a sign that read “NOODLE”.

At this revelation, Justice let out a frustrated noise before palming his face, presumably now realizing Klavier’s implication. Klavier reveled in this momentary victory with a smug grin on his face.

The judge once again called the court into silence before looking towards the attorney. “Mr. Gavin, show where the witness would see the sign!”

The attorney gave a slight bow, “Gladly, Your Honor.” He directed the court’s attention back to the map he was using. “To see the ‘NOODLE’ sign, Herr Stickler would have to stand… here!” He then pointed to the north of the noodle stand, opposite to where Stickler had claimed to stand beforehand.

“So you see, Your Honor, Herr Stickler lied to the court. He witnessed the crime from the northern side of the park… not the south.” He nodded towards the man in question, who could not look guiltier than he did now.

Though, Klavier had no time to cherish his momentary victory as the prosecution voiced his objection. His loud voice echoed well in the courtroom as everyone went silent in anticipation, Klavier looking back at his opposition with a frown.

Justice looked calmer than he was just mere minutes ago, his hand now on his chin as he thought to himself.

“...So what?” He finally spoke, taking Klavier aback.

“Pardon?” He replied, more confused than frustrated with the prosecutor.

Justice shrugged, his hand gesturing to mimic his previous statement. “What does it matter if he saw the killing from the north or the south?” He asked, Klavier unable to tell if he was being condescending or legitimately curious. 

The spectators murmured in agreement from either side of the courtroom, and as Stickler began to launch into another one of his long-winded tangents about semantics, Klavier began thinking to himself.

As much as he hated to admit it, Justice had a point, what did it matter what way Stickler witnessed the murder? He still witnessed a murder, after all. He glanced briefly at Ema, who was also in thought, as he parsed through the information in his head, before realization finally dawned on him.

He snapped his fingers, unintentionally catching the court’s attention. He didn’t know how much time had passed since Justice had voiced his objection, but it certainly felt longer than it probably was.

“It matters quite a lot, actually, Herr Justice,” he finally answered the other man’s question, meeting the prosecutor’s determined gaze with one of his own.

“How so?”

“Recall Herr Stickler’s previous testimonies,” he now addressed the court, gesturing vaguely towards the stenographer, who had been diligently recording all their words since the start of the trial. “When we assumed he entered from the south of the park, there was a bit of a kerfuffle about the bullet’s entry wound, yes?

“Herr Stickler claimed he shouted out when the gun was first raised, and that when he did, the victim turned his head toward him, which is why the entry wound was in his right temple,” he explained. “However! We’ve just established that Stickler had been lying, and in fact, he was entering from the north of the park. So, if he had shouted from the other side of the noodle stand…”

“Ah!” The judge suddenly exclaimed in realization, Klavier gave the old man a small smile, happy that he was able to clearly follow his line of thinking. Sparing a glance at his opposition revealed that Justice too had realized where this was going, if his deeply furrowed eyebrows were anything to go from.

“The bullet would hit his left temple!” Ema finished for him, and he gave a nod of approval. “Which means Kitaki couldn’t have shot the victim, there was no way he could!” She then looked at their client. Even he was surprised at the turning of events alongside the rest of the courtroom.

Klavier raised a hand, feeling much more confident now as the courtroom quieted down at the gesture. “Exactly, Fraulein. But there’s more!”

And indeed there was more, he just hadn’t actually thought about it until Ema spoke, having used the brief time while the courtroom was processing to think further into the situation.

“See, the entry wound is still on the victim’s right temple. And his right temple is... well…” He then turned to Stickler, who gulped underneath his gaze. “...facing the north of the park.”

Gasps sounded from around the courtroom, Ema was excitedly clapping Klavier’s arm as he stood back behind the defense bench, giving a smug grin to the prosecution. 

Stickler was looking desperately to the prosecution, who was deep in thought. The witness was nervously rubbing the spine of his book once again. Any more rubbing and the gold engraving of the title would disappear, Klavier thought to himself.

Finally, after what felt like forever which was in reality, a minute, Justice voiced an objection. “Could you clarify one thing for me, Braidy?” He spoke, meeting Klavier’s eyes. 

Klavier’s eye twitched slightly at the nickname, but was otherwise unfazed. “And what is it, dear Herr Justice?”

“Are you seriously accusing this college student of... murder?” Justice raised one eyebrow, gesturing to Stickler, who was now furiously nodding his head, swearing up and down that he was no killer.

Klavier thought for a moment, watching the witness closely. After all, he had to make sure he was saying the right thing now.

Once again, he mentally sorted through the information that was given, and information that they received before the trial. Everything we found yesterday can still be considered evidence, Klavier thought to himself, before finally reaching a conclusion.

“... I’ll concede that Stickler is no killer,” he began, giving a slight nod to the man in question, who looked relieved that he was declared innocent of manslaughter. “But he’s not completely innocent. No man lies without having something to hide.” Klavier then squinted at him, cutting the witness’ brief sense of safety abruptly short.

“Mr. Gavin, you’re accusing Mr. Stickler of another crime?” The judge looked to the defense, raising one of his bushy eyebrows.

Klavier nodded briefly, ignoring Ema’s look of confusion beside him.

“Well then, care to enlighten us, Gavin?” Justice spoke, his hand once again moving to his bangle as he stared the defense down. “Preferably with some solid evidence.”

Finally getting more used to this whole thing, and especially the stares and glares the prosecution gave (that were steadily increasing in number as the trial went on), Klavier gave a smile of confidence, nodding. “Why of course, Herr Justice, evidence is everything in court, is it not?” 

He turned to Ema, gesturing for her to open up her bag. Although hesitant, she obliged, flipping the flap open and letting Klavier dig through the surprisingly full bag.

“I believe the evidence you’re looking for is… this!” Once he found it, he pulled it free of the other items in Ema’s bag, the blue fabric standing in contrast to the court’s warm colors as it was raised into the air.

More gasps sounded around the court, Justice’s jaw dropping at the sight of it.

“Is that…” 

“Women’s underwear?!” The judge finished Justice’s sentence, or at least, what he thought the prosecutor was finishing his sentence with.

“Hey, wait, that’s mine!” A voice called from behind the prosecutor’s bench, Detective Justice sprang up from her seat, quickly moving from the spectator’s seating area towards Klavier. 

Though, she had only crossed the gate that separated the main floor from the spectators before Prosecutor Justice quickly grabbed her arm, pulling her behind the prosecutor’s bench. “It’s ‘evidence’ now, Truce, we’ll get it back after the case,” he whispered, or at least he tried to, Klavier could still hear him from across the room.

The judge called for order in the court, banging his gavel against the podium until the spectators were little more than whispers in the background.

The old man cleared his throat before he spoke, looking concerned as he turned towards the witness, who, in the most accurate of terms, looked like a nervous wreck as he was scrutinized by the spectators.

The judge sighed. “Mr. Stickler. While I can't say this comes as a shock…”

“I-It's not what it seems! By Pythagorilla's Theorem, I swear it!” Stickler finally cried, his hands tightly clutching the witness stand, his book forgotten on the floor.

“I believe you may have more insight on this situation, Herr Justice? Fraulein Justice?” Klavier handed over the pastel blue bloomers to the bailiff, who gave it to the detective’s waiting hands, the woman looking incredibly pleased to finally be reunited with her belongings. “I think I’ve connected the dots, but it would sound much better from the source, don’t you think?”

Prosecutor Justice sighed, looking embarrassed for his sister as he crossed his arms. “Yesterday morning, Detective Justice lost her… magic… panties… it’s a prop she uses in her magic shows. Since she had used it the night before, we assumed she lost it that night as well.”

“Which also happens to be the night of the murder, correct?” Klavier clarified to the court, the prosecutor nodding begrudgingly. “Did you leave them outside to hang or anything, Detective Justice?”

The detective put the bloomers down, humming as she recalled the events of the night. “I had to wash it since it got pretty dirty that night, so yeah, I did leave it outside on the balcony to dry.”

“Is it safe to assume that the balcony could be within reach from the streets?”

“No, we live in a pretty high rise apartment, a couple stories up.”

“But did you secure the underwear to the railings of the balcony before leaving?”

“... Huh. You’re right.”

Prosecutor Justice whipped his head around to look at his sister, an incredulous look on his face. “You didn’t even use clips to make sure it didn’t fall off?!”

Detective Justice shrugged. “I was tired! I didn’t remember, bite me, Polly!”

The siblings continued to bicker before Klavier cleared his throat to get their attention. “Well, judging by Herr Stickler’s current state...” He gestured to the man, who looked like he wanted to melt through the floor, “...We can safely assume that when your panties-” “-Magic panties!” “-fell off your balcony, he must’ve snatched them up on the way.”

The prosecutor sighed. “We do live between the park and Ivy U, it’s not... impossible to assume that Stickler might’ve gotten them on his way home,” he conceded, shooting a glare at his sister, who responded by sticking out her tongue.

“And perhaps from a guilty conscience, our local panty-snatcher might have hid in the Meraktis Clinic garage and disposed of the evidence by shoving it into the car’s exhaust pipe, which is where we found it,” Klavier reasoned.

“Or someone saw him, a man with a pair of panties owned by probably the most famous magician in the area late at night, and he chickened out and got rid of it before anyone could call her,” Ema snorted from beside the attorney, crossing her arms at the student. “Especially after she performed that very night.”

“Or that, which is also very likely.” Klavier nodded. “Ergo! While you may not be a murderer, Herr Stickler, you are guilty of panty-snatching in the first degree!”

“Pleeaaasse!! Let me explain!” Stickler cried out, his legs buckling from underneath him as he dropped to the floor.

“Well, I definitely want an explanation!” Detective Justice huffed, crossing her arms as she glared at Stickler.

The bailiff helped the witness off the ground, the latter now a whimpering mess as the court waited eagerly for whatever excuse he had now.

A brief moment was given to let Stickler calm down and collect his thoughts. At the same time, Detective Justice was escorted back to her original seat, despite her protests.

“So, are we to understand that you were silent not because you were guilty of murder…” The judge spoke slowly, palming his gavel. “...but because you lacked the courage to admit your theft of this girl's undergarments?”

Stickler’s eye twitched at the judge’s words, before crossing his arms and clearing his throat. “Perhaps you are not aware that my school's name was originally written ‘IV’! ‘I’ stands for ‘Intelligent’, ‘V’ stands for ‘Valiant’! See!?”

Silence followed Stickler’s words, practically every person in the courtroom staring at him blankly. “...Your point?” Ema broke the silence, raising one eyebrow at the witness.

“I’m not done!” The student shot a glare at the teen. He then slipped into a new tangent about his status as a student of science, much to the court’s dismay. “...No challenge is too daunting, and what greater challenge to science than a mystery!?”

Even Klavier eventually had enough, slamming his hands down on the table. “Herr Stickler, we’re still talking about women’s underwear, right?” He had to make sure they were still on the same wavelength, otherwise it would just be a waste of time to let him keep yapping his mouth. Of course, that isn’t to say Stickler wasn’t almost always wasting time at this point.

“No! You do not understand! A mystery is the unknown, and the unknown is unacceptable!” Stickler then whipped his head towards Klavier, one hand in a fist. “And, my friends, when it comes to mysteries, those panties are the promised land!”

“Not to interrupt your spiritual awakening or whatever, Stickler,” This time Justice spoke up, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “But can we please assume you’re talking about Detective Justice’s magic trick and move on?”

“I just don't understand... A broom... from a pair of panties? It mocks the very laws of physics…” Stickler then looked down at his hands, bewildered.

Klavier glanced at the spectators seated behind the prosecution, spotting Detective Justice looking pretty flattered with herself. He looked to the side and watched Ema nod slowly. “Well, Trucy Justice is pretty famous as a magician for a reason, nobody but her really knows how her tricks work.”

“And I suppose a fellow scientific mind like yourself can relate to Herr Stickler’s plight?” 

Ema scoffed, now crossing her arms. “Don’t compare me to that guy, he might just be a weirdo perv for all we know. Real scientists don’t need to steal to get their conclusions.”

“So, are we to understand that you stole this woman’s underwear to understand a magic trick, Mr. Stickler?” The judge asked.

“ You say ‘panties’ but they are so much more than that! For me, they are an object for serious study!” Stickler argued.

Justice cleared his throat. “This isn’t an isolated incident, is it, Mr. Stickler?” He asked, now raising an eyebrow. “We have been getting reports of a bunch of panties going missing in the area after all…”

Stickler gulped under the prosecutor’s judging gaze, drawing into himself, presumably from shame. He began to ramble apologies, despite still trying to justify his actions by labelling it as a necessary evil, for science! But the court was having none of it, and soon the judge had to cut his rambles short.

“Still, this leaves one thing unexplained.” The judge quickly interjected before Stickler could go any further, stroking his beard in thought.

Justice nodded once. “Referring to the witness’s other lie, right? About him seeing the crime from the north, not the south.”

“Indeed, would anyone care to explain why he lied about that?” The judge spoke, looking between the prosecution and the defense.

There was a moment of silence in the courtroom, both sides silently waiting for the other to speak up.

Eventually, the prosecutor must’ve started getting tired of the inaction, crossing his arms and gesturing to Klavier. “Well?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Klavier nearly sputtered, looking at Justice with disbelief. “ Was? Why me?”

Justice shrugged, an air of smugness palpable, even from the other side of the courtroom. “Weren’t you the one accusing him of a crime besides murder?” he argued, raising an eyebrow. “Why did the witness lie, unless you actually have no idea?”

The whole courtroom turned their heads to Klavier in expectation, even Ema. Gulping under the pressure of tens of people, Klavier looked back down at the materials on the bench, particularly at the picture of the scene of the crime.

He thought to himself, his teeth worrying his bottom lip as he did before snapping his fingers in realization, spotting something on the photo.

“Well, Mr. Gavin?” The judge snapped him out of his thoughts, raising an eyebrow. “What say you? Do you have any evidence to show why the witness lied about his location?”

Thinking quickly, Klavier nudged Ema, pointing to her bag. She let him dig through the different knick knacks that resided in the overstuffed bag once again, before pulling something out, careful not to rip it.

He looked to the court with a smile, though his mock confidence was betrayed by the nervous scrunch of his eyebrows. “I do have evidence, Your Honor, but I would like the court to promise that they won’t laugh.” He balled the satin fabric into his fist.

Both the judge and the prosecution physically recoiled in confusion, the audience murmuring among themselves. “Uh… we… we promise?” The judge responded, now even more curious as to what the defense came up with this time.

Klavier opened his fist, the satin bloomers hanging from his index finger as he presented it to the court, and another gasp sounded around the courtroom. “More panties?!” The judge exclaimed, Justice’s head now in his hand in disbelief.

“You wanna explain further, Klav, or look even creepier than you already do?” Ema spoke up from beside him, her arms crossed. 

The attorney cleared his throat, putting the underwear down. “You see, we found this pair in the trash can, which is actually located right where the witness actually stood,” he explained, gesturing to the diagram of the crime scene.

Dots were connected and realizations were made before Stickler exclaimed, hiding his face in his hands. ”Alas! I'm a failure as a scientist! I can't unravel the mysteries of the universe! I can't even unravel a pair of panties!”

It was at this time, Klavier finally felt like the day was ending, as the court discussed Stickler’s panty-snatching habits further.

The conversations went by like a blur to him, even when he was still responding and replying. But his attention refocused when he heard the telltale sound of the gavel.

“I believe this brings today's proceedings to a close. And I'm more than pleased to dismiss this witness for the remainder of the trial,” the judge spoke, palming the gavel in his hands. Both the prosecution and the defense sighing audibly in relief.

“One last thing, if I might,” Justice spoke, raising a finger. The judge nodded, allowing him to speak. “Regardless of where we ended today, some vital points were made. Namely, that the defendant, Wocky Kitaki, was at the scene of the crime…” He looked at the defendant briefly, “ And... he was pointing a weapon at the victim.” He then turned his attention to the defense“ ...One more thing. Wocky Kitaki has a clear motive,” he said, as if challenging them indirectly.

The judge nodded again. “Indeed, the defendant Wocky Kitaki is still the prime suspect in this case. The only suspect, in fact,” he spoke, Klavier letting out another sigh. Both his and Kitaki’s heads still weren’t off the chopping board after all that. “Assuming there was no one else on the scene at the time.

“Yet, a mystery remains... The location of the wound in the victim's right temple has yet to be explained. The court requests further investigation from both the defense and prosecution.” The judge looked between the two lawyers, waiting for a response.

“No problem,” Justice responded with a nod.

“...Ja, baby,” Klavier blurted out, earning a strong nudge from his co-counsel that nearly knocked him over.

The judge didn’t seem to notice though, and with one last bang of the gavel, court was adjourned.

Chapter Text

When the trial ended, the first thing Klavier thought to do was maybe have a nice nap, or just have a relaxing sit down at home. He would pick up Vongole from her dogsitter, perhaps even have a walk with her, have some lunch, just unwind really.

What he didn’t think to do at all though, was dig around in the trash with a teenager eight years his junior. 

Which is unfortunately exactly what was happening now, Ema swatting away different pieces of trash in the park’s trash can while he held onto her coat to make sure she didn’t fall in completely as she dug deeper and deeper.

“Fraulein, the absence of the public really shouldn’t give you the urge to do things like this,” he sighed, moving his head slightly to dodge the oncoming piece of trash.

Thankfully, Ema seemed to be finished as she pushed herself out of the bin with a huff, dusting herself off. “I was just making sure we weren’t missing any more vital evidence in the trash,” she said, flattening the crease on the back of her coat.

Klavier raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms now that his hand was free. “You’re sure this isn’t just a weird hobby of yours--?” Then he was swiftly met with a smack in the arm. He snickered, shaking his head. “I’m kidding, Fraulein! It’s just that we already found this-” He raised a pair of slippers that had paint splattered on it, “-so I don’t see the use of digging any further, I’m pretty sure you dug all the way down to last week’s garbage.”

Ema sighed, putting her hands on her hips. “I know, I just...don’t want a repeat of today tomorrow,” she replied. 

She was being surprisingly sombre about the day’s events, after all she did fake a fainting just to make sure they would leave the courtroom with a second chance. Klavier still owed her for that. He could tell she was just as exhausted as he was after today’s trial.

With that in mind, he patted her shoulder, then gestured towards the bag that she had been shouldering for the whole day. “You should go relax, Fraulein, probably take a shower too. I’ll keep the evidence safe with me and we can meet up when you’re feeling more refreshed.”

At this, she raised an eyebrow, skeptical and holding tighter to the strap of her bag. “...You sure you got your head on straight, Gavin?” She squinted at him, scrutinizing his features as he chuckled.

“I’m not the one who was digging through the trash. Plus, I owe you from earlier, this is the least I can do.” He kept his hand held out for her bag, his fingers wiggling, gesturing for her to just hand it over.

After a pause, Ema relented, dropping the bag into his waiting hand. “Fine, I’ll head back for now. But we’re meeting up here again, ‘kay?” And without waiting for a reply, she ran off into the direction of the office.

Klavier shouldered the bag, carefully slipping the slippers into it and nodding as Detective Justice entered the park right as Ema left. “Hey Mr. Gavin, you find anything?” She greeted him with a smile, dropping off her bag on the ground nearby the table set up at the crime scene.

He returned her polite smile with a wave. “I did, but I’m not telling you what I found,” he teased, making a show of tucking Ema’s bag closer to himself.

The detective laughed before giving an exaggerated pout. “Aww! We were supposed to work together, Gavin! And after all I’ve done for you…” 

“To be fair, Fraulein Justice, I did find your prop for you,” Klavier argued, motioning towards her bag.

“Oh yeah! Thanks for that, by the way, I really owe you.” Justice smiled, giving a slight bow as she gave her thanks. Though, she quickly straightened up, now pointing a finger at him, “But not until after the case!”

He chuckled, nodding, “I know, I know. Can’t go around betraying your brother now, right?” Her merciless, nitpicky, confident, intelligent, adorable- - Klavier cleared his throat to dispel his thoughts, using his hand to shield his face from showing any kind of color.

Though, he wasn’t as slick as he thought, and soon found the detective invading his personal space with a smirk on her face, humming. “Hm… yes, my brother…” She nodded slowly, stepping backward as soon as she was satisfied with whatever she found on his expression. 

“You know, Mr. Gavin, you’re not as smooth as you like to pretend you are.” She crossed her arms, “Maybe I’m the only one who noticed, but I see how you look at my brother in court.” She snickered, giving the attorney a teasing smile.

Flustered, Klavier gave a nervous laugh, stepping backward. “You’re… very funny, Fraulein. Perhaps you should consider doing comedy as well?”

Justice barked out a laugh in response. “You laugh, but I actually do! You should really come see my shows,” she said, now putting her hands on her hips.

Relieved that the topic was changed, he nodded. “I’ll definitely make sure to catch at least one when I have the free time.” He looked down at his watch, now even more aware of the ticking minutes. “Ah, but we can save this conversation for next time, yes? I still need to build our defense for tomorrow.” He readjusted his grip on Ema’s bag, surprised at how heavy it was getting on his shoulder.

Justice gave a thumbs up. “No problem! I gotta get started again over here anyway, it was nice talking to you, Mr. Gavin,” she said, jabbing a thumb towards the crime scene.

Klavier smiled and bowed, “The pleasure is mine, Fraulein, I’ll see you later when I come back.” And with that, he turned on his heels and made his way towards the park’s exit.

But before he could get too far, he heard her yell his name, and he quickly turned his head, raising an eyebrow. “My brother’ll come around eventually, Mr. Gavin! I’m pretty sure you’re his type!” She yelled from where she was standing, which was thankfully far away enough that she wouldn’t catch the blush that was quickly growing on Klavier’s face.

Unsure of how to respond, Klavier flashed a thumbs up and a nervous smile before jogging out of the park before he could incriminate himself any further.

He made his way towards the Meraktis Clinic, figuring that if there was any place that could give new leads, it’d be there. However, when he arrived there was an officer that was standing guard at its entrance. Furthermore, it was the same officer that stopped them from entering the park the day before.

Naturally, he came up and asked for entry, but was of course turned away, the officer stating that he needed proof that there was anything in the clinic that would prove useful to the case.

Grumbling under his breath, he stepped away from the clinic, and instead spotted Eldoon nearby. “Guten Tag, Herr Eldoon,” he greeted the older man, earning only a confused look in response.

Though, it wasn’t only his German that seemed to have his “client” in a funk, and he raised an eyebrow. “Everything alright?”

Eldoon grumbled, crossing his arms as he looked at the empty spot where his cart would be. “I gotta thank you for finding my cart… but now it’s a crime scene, and they won’t let me have it back,” he replied, shaking his head.

“Ah… so sorry about that,” Klavier replied, before narrowly missing the hand that was coming towards his face as the other outstretched both his arms with an exasperated sigh.

“How can a noodle stand be a crime scene, that's what I don't get! Even in death he's after my neck, I tell ya!” He exclaimed, his arms droppings to his sides just as quickly as they went up. “Bah! Can't even cook an honest noodle…” He then looked to Klavier’s left, then his right, then raised an eyebrow. “Where’s Ema-doll?”

“She’s just taking a break, it’s been a long morning for the both of us,” Klavier explained, looking in the direction of the office. “Ah… but more importantly… were you referring to Dr. Meraktis just a second ago?”

Eldoon let out a scoff at the mention of the late doctor, rolling his eyes at the clinic that stood just mere meters away from them. “I tell ya. It's enough to drive a man to make his soup even saltier…”

Klavier shuddered at the thought of Eldoon’s signature salty broth. No doubt that Ema would eventually make him taste it, but it was safe to say that he was absolutely not looking forward to it.

So instead of thinking of the hot mess that was Eldoon’s signature dish, he decided to press the earlier subject. “If I may, Herr Eldoon, what exactly happened between you and Meraktis?” He asked, figuring that if Eldoon and the victim had history, there could be potential for another lead.

The former let out a second scoff, shaking his head. “I hated ‘im,.. Er, hated. Him actin' like he smells like roses when he's rollin' in mud!” He gestured wildly with his hands as he spoke, those hands coming to rest on his hips when he finished. “He's the only doctor at that clinic, you know. Pretty impressive, eh?” He jabbed a thumb towards the shining clinic before leaning forward, dropping his volume to a whisper, “I'll tell you the secret to his success... The mob!”

Now this was interesting. “You mean.. The Kitaki Family?” He dropped down to a whisper as well, raising an eyebrow.

Eldoon nodded “They're always having one of them ‘turf wars’ or whatnot. Always an injury or two that needs fixing. Meraktis saw a chance for some business. So he started giving the Kitaki Family a good deal…” He clapped his hands, then moved his palm from one side to another as he said, “Every fifth operation for free! He stole the idea from my pops! One free bowl of noodles a week, he used to say.”

Klavier squinted. This doctor was a lot shadier than he thought. “That’s illegal... how did he get away with it?”

“Oh, no doubt it's illegal. But, it got him in good with the Family. Pretty soon he was getting all the business in town. Leavin' me here, in the dark! Up t'my neck in soupy noodles!” Eldoon crossed his arms once again, Klavier taking note of his choice of words.

“So his connection with the Family bailed him out of any trouble with insurance companies,” Klavier concluded, Eldoon nodding in affirmation.

The attorney took a moment to process this new information, before pointing a finger towards the cook. “If I may ask Herr Eldoon… or should I say, Herr Doktor?”

Eldoon chuckled, nodding slowly. “Figured it out, did ya?” He affirmed Klavier’s suspicions, the latter giving a satisfied smile in response. “That's right, I was a doctor. A surgeon... until the year before last.”

“So Herr Meraktis was your rival, then?”

“...You like those onions they put in the soup broth?”

Klavier raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in course, before nodding slowly.

“You take a spoon, you drink some broth... Those onions will find their way in there. For people who like 'em, why that's just fine. For people who hate 'em…

“...I hate onions. Hate 'em! Always sneaking in from the side, gettin' in the way of a good tastin' spoonful. Well, that's what he was. An onion! Onion-boy, that's what I called 'im.” Eldoon shot a glare at the clinic once he finished rambling. “I was a surgeon long before he was, you know. Then that no-good onion-boy comes along..”

Deny it as he may, Klavier couldn’t shake the fact that this animosity could very much lead Eldoon to be a new suspect in the case. Though, he knew that likely wasn’t the case at all. But still, a possibility.

“Thanks to him, I was forced to trade in my scalpel for a ladle!” Eldoon then looked at Klavier, clearing his throat “Sorry, pal. Didn't mean to weigh you down with an old man's ramblings.”

The younger man shook his head and smiled. “It’s really no problem, Herr Eldoon.”

“By way of apology... You ever get yourself in a spot of trouble, you drop by,” he said, “When you want to know about a doctor, you ask a doctor. That's all I'm sayin'. You just think of me if you need something, it’s the least I can do for Ema-doll.”

“Danke schön, Herr Eldoon, I’ll be sure to tell Ema.” And with that, he finished his business with the noodle stand owner.

He was about to make his way back to the park, before he decided to give Ema a little more time to relax. So, he changed his course over to the detention center.

The last time they were there, Ema and he interrogated Stickler, who was brought in for the panty-snatchings. They talked only for a short while, with Stickler once again affirming that Kitaki was most definitely at the scene of the crime.

So he was relieved when he was told Kitaki was finally available, having not had the chance to speak to his client in the entire duration of the case.

After being mistaken for his fiancée, Klavier sat down with Kitaki, letting him air out his frustrations about the bullet that was lodged inside of him

“I ain't trying to hear that! A man fights to protect what's valuable to him, you know what I'm saying?” Kitaki huffed, crossing his arms as he leaned back on his chair, his right leg bouncing with nervous energy. Although he put up a tough gangster persona, Klavier could easily see that the young man was terrified of the bullet that was threatening to end him at any moment.

Kitaki let out a groan of frustration, ruffling his already messy hair even further before he properly faced Klavier. “Hey, you go get Alita for me. You're my lawyer, aren't you?” He tapped a finger on the bulletproof glass.

Klavier bristled at his request, giving his client a tight smile. “Your lawyer, Herr Kitaki, not your gopher.”

At this, Kitaki scoffed, his lips twisted into an exaggerated frown. Klavier could hear him muttering under his breath, but couldn’t quite catch the words, what with the glass separating the both of them.

Instead of asking him to repeat himself, Klavier decided to get straight to the point, given that he didn’t have the opportunity to properly converse with his client both yesterday and earlier this morning.

He asked about his upcoming wedding and how he and his fiancée met, since the other party seemed to avoid the question when he asked. Though, he probably shouldn’t have mentioned that last tidbit, as even Kitaki wouldn’t tell him the circumstances of how they met.

So instead he asked about his relationship with the victim, to which Kitaki responded with renewed vigor, gesturing wildly and claiming that another mob family, specifically the Rivales family, must have paid Meraktis off to botch the surgery.

“And the pistol and the knife?” Klavier asked, raising an eyebrow, “Did you really carry them with you that night?”

Kitaki worried his bottom lip before nodding once. “Yeah, they belong to the Family. I snuck 'em out that night.”

Fantastic. Just what he needed.

He inhaled deeply, suppressing the urge to hide his face in his palm, instead crossing his arms. “So you’re positive that the killer Stickler saw that night was you.”

His client shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his varsity jacket. “I dunno, I guess.”

Klavier raised an eyebrow. “You guess?” He echoed, his head tilting in question. “Did you or did you not shoot him?”

He was given another shrug, causing him to sigh. “The thing is, I don't remember what happened all too well,” he said, chewing the insides of his cheek. “I was on the way to the clinic when I ran into him at the park, and he was carrying this noodle stand behind him… After that, it’s a blur.” 

The two sat in silence as Klavier processed the new information, nodding slowly. 

“But, the way I see it, if there wasn't anyone else there that night ...then I guess it probably was me who did him in, you know what I'm saying?” Kitaki shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and it was clear now to Klavier that it’s still plausible that Kitaki is completely innocent.

He racked his brain for any more questions that could give him any new leads, but frowned when he couldn’t think of anything. So he thanked Kitaki for his cooperation and left the detention center, making his way back to People Park.

While he walked, he tried to piece together the information he received today, both from the trial and from his conversations following.

If he found a way to gain access to any records of Kitaki’s botched surgery, he could probably have Eldoon take a look and explain how bad it really is. He’d definitely get those records in the clinic if he were allowed, perhaps Detective Justice could help with that.

All in all, it didn’t really seem like he had any other leads besides the clinic.

Resolving to ask the detective for some help, he quickened his pace towards the park.

Chapter Text

Klavier made his way to People Park, where he’d hopefully meet up with Ema.

But instead of seeing his teenage partner-in-crime, he saw a bunch of teenagers crowded around the entrance, and if he looked hard enough, he could see a familiar mop of brunette hair poking out in the middle.

At the same time, he felt a tug on his sleeve. When he looked for the source, he was pleased to find that Ema did manage to catch up with him. “Feeling better?” He asked, giving her a gentle nudge.

She nodded, taking her bag from him and inspecting the contents, making sure he didn’t lose anything. “Much better. But it doesn’t look like Apollo-- Prosecutor Justice is doing as great,” she snorted, gesturing to the crowd with her head and shouldering her bag once she was sure everything was in place.

Klavier hummed in agreement, and the two watched as Detective Justice pried the teenage girls both off her brother and off herself. When she spotted the pair just outside the group, she gave an enthusiastic wave.

Her brother looked to where she was waving, and pursed his lips when he spotted the defense attorney and the self-proclaimed forensic investigator, both of whom waved back.

The detective wrapped an arm around the prosecutor, dragging him towards the pair with the group of teenagers following closely behind.

“Mr. Gavin! Ema! Welcome back to the crime scene!” She greeted them enthusiastically, jostling her little brother and prompting him to give a polite nod to the two, clearly hesitant to interact.

Klavier gave the siblings a polite smile. 

“Prosecutor Justice, Detective Justice--”

“Ahh!! I’m so done with formalities!” The detective exclaimed, even leaning on the shorter Justice for dramatic effect. “Please, just call me Trucy.” She quickly straightened up when the prosecutor pushed her away with a huff.

Ignoring the sounds of admiration from the crowd, Klavier chuckled. “Only if you call me Klavier, Fraulein.”

“Deal!” Trucy grinned, and the two sealed it with a handshake. “So tired of all the misses and misters, right, Polly?” She nudged Justice with her elbow, wiggling her eyebrows.Whether at the prosecutor or at the attorney, Klavier couldn’t tell, but either way he could feel a blush slowly crawling into his features as they waited for the prosecutor’s reply.

Justice cleared his throat, still avoiding Klavier’s gaze. “Mr. Gavin, Ms. Skye.” He nodded curtly, ignoring the pout his sister was giving him. “I was just about to go. The crime scene’s all yours.” He then turned to Trucy, flicking her forehead, “I’m going home, make sure I didn’t miss anything, ‘kay?” 

And with that, he was gone, pushing way through his crowd of admirers and speeding away on a skateboard.

Trucy escorted the two back into the crime scene, away from the crowd outside, sighing. “Sorry, Klavier, I tried my best,” she said, crossing her arms and shaking her head.

“It’s alright, Miss Trucy! The fop’s a hard person to like, you can’t really blame Prosecutor Justice,” Ema snorted, dodging Klavier’s hand as he reached over to ruffle her hair in retaliation.

He looked around at the largely unchanged crime scene, but noticed that the blue tarps from earlier were gone. “Ah… Trucy, what happened to the tarps?” He asked, pointing to the ground.

The detective whipped around, glancing over at the ground. “Oh, that? We put them there in the first place to preserve the mud, but it's dried up now. Just waiting for the forensic team to arrive so we can do a footprint analysis.”

At the mention of forensic, Ema immediately lit up, quickly coming over to the detective. “Oh, oh! Miss Trucy, let me help again, please!” She pleaded, giving the detective her best puppy eyes.

Trucy chuckled, patting Ema on the shoulder. “I don’t know, Ema, I don’t have any of the tools right now to have you help-”

“I do!” Ema quickly interjected, now rummaging through her bag and pulling out a ziplock bag with two tupperware containers and what looked like a hair dryer inside. 

Klavier squinted at the ziplock bag’s contents, and even Trucy looked stunned. “You should let me borrow that bag sometime, Ema, I think a limitless bag would be a great trick for a show!” She teased, taking the ziplock bag from the teen’s hands.

Ema hummed in satisfaction, putting her hands on her hips. “Sorry Miss Trucy, but I have to keep my forensic supplies somewhere. Not for sale!”

The detective chuckled, giving the ziplock bag back to the girl, who opened it up quickly, itching to get her fingers on the scientific equipment.

Trucy led them to one of the shoeprints, specifically the one in front of the cart, where Kitaki would be standing. They crouched down on the dried mud, Ema carefully pulling out the tupperware filled with white liquid from the ziplock bag.

“So? Walk us through it, Ema!” Trucy rubbed her gloved hands together as Ema slowly uncapped the tupperware container.

“Well, first things first, I’m going to pour the plaster into the print,” The teen explained as she did just that, carefully filling the mark left in the dried mud. Klavier stepped backwards to avoid stepping on the liquid as the mark was slightly overfilled.

Then, she pulled out the hair dryer, double-checking its batteries before turning it on. “Then, I’m going to heat up the plaster so it turns into a solid,” she said as she carefully hovered the hair dryer over the filled shoe print.

The two adults watched as the plaster slowly hardened, Tracy going ooh as it did. Ema lightly poked the now solid plaster, and when she was satisfied that the solution was no longer liquid, she switched the hair dryer off and pulled out the second tupperware container that carried a black liquid.

“That dried pretty fast…” Klavier whistled as he also poked the solid plaster, pouting when Ema quickly slapped his hand away. She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a small paint roller (much to the astonishment of the other two), opening the tupperware container and rolling what Klavier assumed to be paint onto the roller.

“Miss Trucy, do you have a sheet of paper anywhere we can use?” She turned to the detective as she evened out the paint on the roller.

“Did we reach the limits of the magic bag already?” Trucy teased as she stood up, walking towards the table set up to the side.

The teen then turned to the other adult, “Klavier, pull the plaster out carefully then bring it to the table,” she instructed him, tilting the roller and letting the black paint drip back into the tupperware container.

Klavier nodded, following her instructions and picking at the dried overfill. He carefully lifted the plaster, taking it in his hand as it was removed from the ground. He then quickly stood and walked towards the table, where Trucy laid down a sheet of paper.

Soon enough, Ema joined them, waiting for Klavier to put down the flipped plaster on the table before rolling the paint onto it. 

Once she was satisfied with the paint’s distribution, she stepped away. “Okay, now stamp the paint onto the paper.”

Trucy and Klavier turned towards each other. “Do you want to do it, Fraulein?” Klavier offered, gesturing towards the paper.

“Oh, no, please, go ahead.” She mirrored his gestures, stepping back,

“Please, I insist.”

“Nah, it’s alright, really--”

“Oh my God, move!” Ema let out an exasperated huff at their politeness, snatching the plaster and forcefully moving between the two, stamping the paper herself.

Both of them were left flustered as Ema carefully lifted the plaster, revealing a shoe print, with something that seemed to be stuck on the sole of the shoe.

The three leaned forward to look at the print, the teenager with a self-satisfied smirk, the detective with a curious look, and the attorney with a deductive gaze.

“Very nice… let’s compare it to the ones we have on record.” Trucy nodded, hovering her hand over the manila folders on the table before picking one up and opening it, taking various pictures of shoe prints and comparing it to the one on the paper.

She eventually found a match, and they confirmed that it was Kitaki’s shoe, further cementing his presence at the crime scene.

“You know, at this point maybe we shouldn’t go back to the crime scene anymore…” Ema mumbled loud enough for the other two to hear as she compared the two nearly identical shoe prints. “Kinda seems like nailing a coffin, now.”

“Well, Kitaki did confess to being here on the night of the murder, so nothing really surprising here,” Klavier hummed, crossing his arms. “There are other shoe prints here, right, Trucy?”

They returned to the noodle cart, carefully walking around the dried mud as they looked for any other prints they could try. Ema insisted they only do one more, since she was afraid of running out of plaster.

“This stuff is kinda expensive, I don’t know where Uncle Edgeworth even gets it, honestly,” she said, Trucy mumbling something about the chief prosecutor under her breath and snorting afterwards.

They settled on the print that was right beside the cart, since they never established who that might belong to earlier in the trial.

Ema re-did the entire process, and soon they were back at the table, Trucy rolling the plaster with the paint.

“Moment of truth,” Klavier said before they stamped the plaster onto another blank sheet of paper.

But instead of a regular shoe print with patterns, it was… plain, with nothing but the shape of a leaf appearing on the paper.

The three stared at the strange print with expressions of bewilderment, confusion, and curiosity. “Well… I don’t need to look at the records to tell you that this won’t match with anything we have,” Trucy said, leaning back and crossing her arms.

“No... “ Ema hummed, rubbing her chin in thought before she gasped, snapping her fingers. “...But we might have something with a match!”

Klavier didn’t need to ask, he already knew what she was looking for when she started rummaging through the bag, he had already come to the same conclusion. So he wasn’t as surprised as Trucy when she pulled out a pair of green slippers in triumph.

“Look here.” Ema turned one of the slippers around, revealing the sole to be splattered with paint, with the exception of a distinct leaf shape. “I told you the trash was a good idea!” She nudged Klavier with an elbow, the latter snorting. 

“Some hobbies you keep to yourself, Fraulein,” he teased, avoiding the physical assault that came after.

“These slippers came from the clinic?” Trucy asked, taking one and reading the text printed on the slippers. 

“Yes, Ema found them in the trash can here earlier,” Klavier explained, holding the teen away at arm’s length, though she quickly calmed down at the mention of her accomplishment, her glare replaced by a proud grin. “And speaking of the clinic, I went there earlier to investigate but the officer didn’t let me in. Is there any way you can give us access inside, Fraulein?” He asked Trucy, remembering his interaction with the officer earlier.

The detective hummed, thinking, before nodding, handing the slipper back to Ema for safekeeping (which was debatable, wouldn’t evidence be safer with the detective than a random teenager?). 

She took another piece of paper and conjured a pen in her hand (somehow still amazing the other two), writing something down on the paper before signing it with a flourish, folding it into a rectangle and handing it over to the attorney. “Give this to him, he should let you in after reading it,” she instructed.

“Thank you, Miss Trucy!” Ema clasped her hands together, looking at the detective in admiration as Klavier pocketed the paper in his coat. 

“No biggie! It’s the least I can do for your help here, Ema.” She winked, patting the girl on the shoulder.

They said their farewells and good lucks for tomorrow, and soon the pair were back on their way to Meraktis Clinic.

At the sight of them, the officer scoffed, narrowing his eyes. “You two again? Look at me however you want, you're not getting in today,” they stated, crossing his arms.

“Ah, you may change your mind once you look at this, Herr Offizier.” Klavier took the paper from his coat and handed it to the officer, who raised an eyebrow in suspicion before carefully unfolding it, reading the contents.

Both his eyebrows raised in surprise as he read, then furrowed once he was finished, carefully folding the paper again. “...Well, you got the orders, I gotta let you in. Have fun.” He stepped to the side, gesturing to the clinic’s entrance.

They both gave him a grin as they stepped inside, though Ema’s was more shit-eating than his.

Once the door closed behind them, Ema stretched out her arms, cracking her knuckles. “Let’s get to it!” She said, now rubbing her hands together as they began looking around the small waiting area.

The first thing both of them noticed was the piles and piles of bowls just in front of the reception desk, as well as the stainless steel pot. Ema took two pairs of latex gloves from her bag, giving the other pair to Klavier as they approached the bowls.

“These must be the bowls from Mr. Eldoon’s cart,” she said, picking one up from the top of the pile and turning it in her hand. “But what are they doing here…?”

Klavier picked up the pot, looking into it, but finding nothing. “I have a hunch, but let’s look at everything else, I might be wrong.”

Next, they noticed the missing slippers from the rack just to the right of the bowls, and just in front of the rack, a pair of sandals.

Ema picked up one shoe, approaching Klavier as they both looked it over. “You think it’s a visitor’s or patient’s?” She asked, looking up at him.

He shook his head, putting his hands in his pockets. “If it was, then they should either still be here or already would’ve picked these up.”

“Hm… Who would leave their shoes behind…?” Ema wondered out loud, slipping the sandals into her magic bag.

Then, a thump sounded from further inside the clinic, startling the two. They looked at each other before quickly running to the door labeled Doctor’s Office.

Klavier quickly tried the doorknob, surprised that it gave away easily, and they soon entered the office.

They looked around frantically, but there was nobody there. However, there were definitely signs of a break-in, demonstrated by strewn items in the office, as well as the open window. 

“It’s probably too late to chase after whoever was in here, huh?” Ema voiced his thoughts, and he sighed in response, nodding as well. “Should… should we tell the officer outside…?”

“No, no, not yet,” he answered quickly, closing the door behind them. “If we tell the police now, we’ll miss the chance to see whatever is in here.”

“Right, right.” She nodded, looking around the room and pointing to the blue lamp that stood upright on the floor, an odd look in the otherwise ransacked room. She approached it and picked it up, raising an eyebrow. “Hey… the bulb’s broken on this thing,”

“Broken as in burnt-out?”

“No, broken as in broken, look.” She handed the lamp over to Klavier, who peeked into the shade and saw that, yes, the bulb was shattered. “Do you think the burglar dropped it?” She asked.

“No… if they did, why would it be standing right side up…?” Klavier asked nobody in particular, then noticing a splotch on the cord. “Do you think that’s blood?” He asked.

“A bit bright for blood, probably not,” Ema answered, looking at the splotch closer. She fished her phone from her bag and took pictures of the lamp. A good call , Klavier thought, we might need it for tomorrow’s trial.

They went around the room, purposefully avoiding the wall safe, touching everything and trying to piece things together. The cup that was knocked over on the desk was dry, which meant that whoever broke in wasn’t the one who knocked it over, or at least, not since the past few minutes.

Eventually, they finally came to the safe, Klavier surprised to see that two numbers had already been inputted into the safe. “7...9… The burglar must’ve heard us talking outside of the office and never got to finish unlocking the safe,” he deduced, rubbing his chin.

“Well, lucky for us, we have this!” Ema pulled out the fingerprint powder out of her bag, quickly going to apply the powder as Klavier stepped aside to let her do her thing. 

When she finished, there were no discernible fingerprints, but they could now see the other two numbers that finished the passcode. “Right, well, we’re not gonna find out who tried to break in, but we can at least find out what they wanted,” Klavier said, finger hovering over the keypad.

“Come on, Klav, first guess!” Ema encouraged him to guess the passcode, enthusiastically pumping her fists up and down.

With both Ema’s blessing and encouragement, Klavier punched in the other two numbers, given away by the fingerprint powder. With the code “7952” punched in, the safe gave a beep and a click, and the door easily swung open when Klavier pulled.

“Wow. Lucky you, huh?” Ema remarked from beside him, leaning over towards the safe as Klavier scooted to the side to let her see the inside.

The first thing that struck them both was the very obvious bullet lodged into the back of the metal safe, Klavier reaching over to pick it out. The squashed metal fell easily into his palm when it was disturbed from its spot, and the both of them looked it over on Klavier’s palm as he pushed it around.

“What was this doing in there, hm?” Klavier mused, now pinching the bullet between his index and his thumb, bringing it to his eye. 

“Whatever the reason, it’s too important to just leave here, that’s for sure,” Ema replied, pulling a small ziplock bag out, opening it up and letting Klavier drop the bullet into it.

Next, they turned their attention to the manila folder, this time Ema being the one to pull it out.

Klavier moved to stand behind her as she opened the folder, peering over her shoulder to see what it held. “This... looks like a medical chart.” Ema picked up the first piece of paper that was hidden in the folder, holding it up for the both of them to read. 

“There’s an X-ray in here too.” Klavier reached for the black and white scan. From what little he understood in medicine, he could at least recognize a ribcage when he sees them, though beyond that, the scan was difficult to decipher.

“I can’t really figure out what all this says, but look here!” Ema pointed to the top of the chart, grabbing Klavier’s attention. “Patient… Wocky Kitaki!”

“So this is Herr Kitaki’s chart, hm? Interesting…” Klavier read further down the chart, noting Meraktis’ signature as the physician. Though, something just a little further down caught his attention. “Well, well, well,” he chuckled, straightening from his leaning posture, “Look at who filled the chart.”

“Hm…? Nurse… Alita Tiala… Oh shit,” Ema read, and even without seeing her face, he could tell she at least had an expression of surprise.

“‘Oh shit’ is right, Fraulein. Things just got more interesting,” he said, placing the scan back inside the folder and letting Ema keep it on her person.

“Shame it’s hard to decipher, though. Medicine doesn’t really overlap with forensic science all that much…” She pouted, tucking the folder into her neverending bag. “...Or at least, I’m just more versed in the chemistry side of stuff.”

Klavier quickly combed through his mind for anyone who could help them, before snapping his fingers in realization. “I know just the person, but first we should make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

And so, they did another quick one over the room, Ema shutting the safe door and Klavier shutting the window before they made their way outside of the clinic, where they both notified the officer standing guard of the attempted robbery (of course, without mentioning the evidence they took from the scene).

Once they were sure the officer was fully inside the clinic, they decided to confront Kitaki once again, this time with Ema present.

After being mistaken for Alita once again, the three sat down to discuss the pair’s findings in the clinic, particularly…

“If you would take a look at this, Herr Kitaki…” Klavier gestured to Ema as she pulled out the file they snatched from the clinic, showing him the charts and the scans.

Their client squinted, clearly confused as to why he was being shown medical files, before realization struck him. “Hey, wait, that’s mine!” He said, finger pointing to where his name was neatly written. After a pause, he sunk further into his chair, furrowing his eyebrows.”Look, I don't smoke or nothing. I'll live long, right?”

“Well, we don’t know about that, but we’re talking about this right… here.” Klavier pointed to where the nurse who helped with these charts, Alita Tiala, had signed her name.

Kitaki’s eyes followed to where he was pointing before huffing, now crossing his arms. “Hmph. You lawyers do your homework, huh?”

“So you met Ms. Tiala at the Meraktis clinic?” Ema tried to confirm, pulling out a notepad from her bag along with a pen.

“Yeah, I met her at the clinic. So?” Kitaki waved a hand dismissively as he spoke.

“Could you tell us more about the circumstances of your meeting?” Klavier asked, tucking the charts and scans back into the manila folder.

The young man hummed as he thought to himself before huffing once again, sitting straighter in his chair. “'Bout half a year ago, I was shot during a little turf war with another family. I was ready to die, sure. But they came in and got me, hauled me off to the doc's,” he began, ''That's where I met her. My fallen angel…”

“Fraulein Tiala?” Klavier confirmed, Kitaki nodded in response. 

“She was scared of me at first, turns out. But you know what they say -- the bad guy always gets the ladies.” He finished his sentence with a dramatic tug of his varsity jacket, a self-satisfied grin on his face.

Neither Klavier nor Ema gave a response to that , but on the inside, they both knew what they thought about it.

“ She was done with that clinic anyhow. So I was like, I'll take you on, woman! Straight gangster style. Guess what she said?” He continued, looking between the two for a response.

“Er… Yes...?" Ema guessed, shrugging afterwards.

Kitaki shook his head. “Nah, not like that! C'mon, give it some thought!” He then leaned in closer to the glass, the other two instinctively doing the same. “She said it real quiet-like, on the down low, know what I'm saying?” He said, much more quietly, “‘I'll leave... if you'll marry me.’”

Klavier’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, beside him, Ema also had an expression of surprise. “So… that was it? That was the proposal?” She asked, straightening up once again.

“You know it! An oath of love, right there in the hospital room.” Kitaki smirked, pulling back once again. “Just like that, the op was done, and we were outta there. See ya later, bye!”

“Hm… yes… and about that ‘op’...” Klavier tapped the folder, a look of concern now painted on his expression.

At that, Kitaki’s smirk quickly slipped from his face, now shoving his hands down his jacket’s pockets. “Yeah, I know. Didn't go so well after all, did it? I know about the report. I know it's still in me.”

And they left it at that. They asked him a couple more questions, particularly about the health check-up his family had, his father’s decision to leave the mafia business, and the trial tomorrow.

They just about flew through the rest of their questions, and they were about to leave again when Ema suddenly spoke up, pulling out the sandals they had found in the clinic.

“Mr. Kitaki, you don’t just happen to recognize these… Do you?” She showed him the shoes, and to Klavier’s surprise, a look of recognition lit up Kitaki’s face.

“Hey, Sure I do! I was the one who bought 'em for her,” he explained, pointing to the shoes with a grin. 

Kavier raised an eyebrow. “For Fraulein Tiala?”

“Yeah. A birthday present. She's got mad little feet. Mad!” Kitaki chuckled, his eyes wandering as he thought about his fiancé. “So cute, man…”

Ema hummed in thought, nodding as she tucked the pair back into her bag.

They both said their thanks for Kitaki’s time, and promptly left the detention center.

“Well, any ideas?” Ema asked as they walked through the streets. When they left the detention center, the sun was high in the sky, and a quick check of the watch showed that it was already noon. 

With the two agreeing to get lunch (especially since Klavier skipped breakfast to get to the trial on time), they had made their way to the nearby convenience store for a quick lunch. Klavier had pork steamed buns while Ema had two pieces of onigiri, stating that she already had a snack when she went home earlier. 

They ate just outside the store, sitting on the metal chairs underneath an umbrella attached to a metal table, shielding themselves from the California heat.

And with that particular heat in mind, they had laid over their respective suit jacket and lab coat over the chairs they were sitting on, Klavier rolling his sleeves up above his elbows and loosening his tie, while Ema tied her hair up into a ponytail with her red ribbon.

At Ema’s question, Klavier hummed, putting down his phone as he finished texting Vongole’s dogsitter, asking them how she was and if she had eaten yet. He swallowed the bite of the steamed bun he took earlier, now holding his chin in his free hand.

“To be completely honest, I’m a little lost on where to go now,” he said, looking at the half-eaten bun in his other hand. “We don’t have a lot of leads we can chase after now, but I think we can get those charts translated for us.”

Ema raised an eyebrow, finishing the last of her onigiri as she listened to him speak. She swallowed quickly, washing it down with a quick swig of water from her bottle. “What do you mean?” She finally asked afterwards, bunching up the plastic that once held her light lunch.

“Well, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but Herr Eldoon was once a doctor,” he said, finding a little amusement in her surprised expression of wide eyes and an open mouth. “Perhaps he could decipher the chart for us.”

“Okay, then we might have a potential lead!” She replied, throwing her hands up and leaning into her chair. “So… what’s got you a little lost if we have this?”

Klavier took another bite of his lunch as he thought of how to word his thoughts. “Well, that’s the thing, Fraulein, Herr Eldoon is our only lead. And if by the off chance that the charts don’t really mean anything, which I severely doubt, we would have nothing left to follow.” He then gestured to her bag, “Then there’s the matter of the other evidence we collected that we haven’t quite connected to the case. Don’t you think that bag’s a bit too heavy now?”

Ema looked at her bag, which sat just on the side of the table. With the amount of things that were inside, Klavier was surprised the table didn’t tip over from its weight.

She hummed, pulling the bag towards her and standing up, rummaging through its contents while Klavier ate and watched, he could practically see the cogs turning in her head.

Then, she pulled out both the pair of sandals and slippers, as well as her beloved fingerprint powder.

He raised his eyebrow as she put her bag to the side once again, having the pairs of footwear face her as she pulled a cotton swab from one of its side pockets and quickly got to work.

She worked in silence, paying no mind as Klavier shifted his attention from her to their surroundings, finishing up his lunch as he watched Californians go about their way. When he finished, he stood to throw the paper wrapper, and perhaps buy a bottle of water inside the store while he was at it, so he left the girl hunched over the sandals and the slippers.

By the time he came back with a cold bottle of water in hand, Ema had already slipped on her pink-tinted glasses, looking closely at the toe prints she had uncovered. 

He cracked open the bottle of water and took a drink before making his way back over, watching over her shoulder as she scrutinized the two prints. “Anything interesting in your investigation, Fraulein Detective?” He half-teased, half-asked.

She scoffed, pulling her glasses back up to rest on her hair. “First of all, it’s forensic investigator, not detective ,” she corrected, turning her head to face him. “Secondly, yes, there is something very interesting in my investigation, so thank God you’re already standing, cause you’re about to be blown away by my super awesome hypothesis.”

Klavier couldn’t help but chuckle, though he knew that whatever she found was definitely going to be important. “Alright,” he said, leaning into her chair, “Lay it on me, Fraulein.”

Though usually she would scold him for being in this close of a proximity, Ema seemed too excited to bother reprimanding him as she straightened up more in her seat. 

“So! We know that these sandals belong to Alita Tiala, right?” She began, earning a nod from Klavier.

“Ja, it was a gift from Herr Kitaki.”

“So obviously this print on the sandal belongs to her,” she continued, now gesturing to the white print on the sandal. “So… since we have one other pair of footwear in our record, I checked the print on the slippers and…drumroll please?”

He indulged her dramatics, straightening up to drum on the metal table with his fingers. He gave the table one last tap, and she snapped her fingers in response.

“The print on the slipper… matches the print on the sandals!” She finally said, a satisfied smirk on her expression as she held up one of each pair. “And because we found the slippers in the trash can near the scene of the crime…”

“...Whoever wore the slippers both wore the sandals and was at the scene of the crime,” he finished her sentence, when suddenly, the realization hit him right over the head, and his own version of Ema’s shocked expression appeared on his face. 

“Which means….?” Ema encouraged him to finish her sentence once again, noticing that he had connected the dots.

“Which means Alita Tiala was at the scene of the crime on the night of the murder!” Klavier said, a grin slowly spreading on his face alongside Ema’s own, and he let out a short laugh, revelling in the revelation. 

“Exactly! Super awesome hypothesis, right?” Ema nudged him with an elbow, extremely proud of her new findings.

“‘Super awesome’? Ema, that’s genius! That’s… erstaunlich!” He laughed, slapping a hand to his forehead to hopefully calm him down.

Ema laughed along with him, putting the footwear back inside her bag. “That’s the power of science for you, Mr. Gavin!” She said, poking him in the arm and winking.

“And a truly marvelous thing it is, Fraulein Skye,” Klavier chuckled, before knocking on the table once, “We need to strike while the iron is hot, Fraulein. Come on, we’re going straight to Eldoon’s!” He patted her shoulder, taking his coat from his chair and flinging it over his shoulder, the girl quickly following suit.

“Herr Eldoon, if you wouldn’t mind, we’re in need of some professional insight!” Klavier didn’t bother with polite greetings once the man in question was in sight, speeding up alongside Ema.

“What? What’s the matter?” Eldoon looked bewildered at the sudden call of his name, but also concerned when the two stopped just before him, panting from the run they just did to get there.

“Mr. Eldoon, take a look at this!” Ema quickly fished out the manila folder, handing it over to the older man before both she and Klavier caught their breath.

Eldoon’s eyes widened at the sight, looking around before carefully taking the manila folder from Ema’s hands with a sort of reverence. He sniffled, one hand reaching to wipe a tear from his eye as the other thumbed over the folder’s material.

“I...Is everything alright, Mr. Eldoon?” Ema asked.

“It’s just…” He sniffled, “I thought my doctor days were gone for good…! Thank you, Ema-doll… for this opportunity.” Eldoon bowed, Ema placing a hand on her heart at his actions.

He opened the folder slowly, as if he were savoring it, before he began reading the chart intently. Though, his teary, happy expression was replaced by that of an increasingly concerned one as he read on. “Wh… What’s goin’ on here?!” He suddenly exclaimed, looking dumbfounded.

“Well, that’s precisely what we need to know, Herr Eldoon. See, this chart belongs to my client…”

“...And he’s on trial for murder, the trial starts again tomorrow!” Ema finished his sentence for him, now even more interested in what Eldoon had to say.

“Trial?! You can’t put him on trial, he’s ABD!” Eldoon looked exasperated at the notion of tomorrow’s trial.

“Sorry?” Klavier raised an eyebrow in question.

“All but dead,” Eldoon replied grimly, “He's knocking on the Pearly Gates, and someone's about to answer.”

This left the duo dumbstruck, Ema gasping loudly at the revelation. “C-Can you tell us why??” She asked.

Eldoon pondered to himself for a moment, before removing his hat and wig, looking like a completely different person as his black, neatly cut hair was revealed. “...Well, permit me to speak as a surgeon... You listen up good now, son,” he said, his expression much more serious.

He gestured for Klavier and Ema to move closer, which they did as he pointed here and there on the chart. “Well, according to this chart... this ‘Wocky Kitaki’ feller's not doing so well. He's got a bullet right up side his heart!”

Klavier nodded. “That sounds about right, yes.”

“Yeah, but this chart talks about the post-op…” Eldoon continued, “In other words, the operation is already finished! ...But you can still see that bullet stuck in there.” He pointed at an area on the x-ray scan, his pinky finger circling an object nearby what Klavier assumed to be the heart.

“But why would the bullet still be in there if the operation was supposed to remove it?” Ema asked, shifting her attention from the scan to the former doctor.

“Well, 'bout the only reason I can think of is, it was too tricky to operate on,” Eldoon replied, turning his head to look at her.

“Could you elaborate, Herr Eldoon?”

Eldoon nodded, looking back to the scan. “That bullet's snug as a bug there next to the aorta, which is connected to the heart. Heck, that scrap of metal's just surrounded by blood vessels.” He pointed at the scan once again, “Kind of a miracle if you ask me, Two millimeters to either side and there'd be some serious bleeding going on in there. Not something yer average doc'd be eager to fiddle with.”

“Which means…” Ema thought to herself, rubbing her chin in thought.

“It took a miracle to get that bullet stuck where it is. I'd take more than a miracle to take it out,” Eldoon explained, shaking his head. “And with the heart pumping and lungs working… That bullet's on the move. I'd give him another half a year, tops.”

Klavier furrowed his eyebrows. “And since the operation’s already been half a year ago, you’re saying Kitaki doesn’t have much time left?”

“‘Fraid not, the kid should be on an operating table, not on trial!” Eldoon confirmed, his own eyebrows furrowing in frustration.

“But why would Dr. Meraktis leave that bullet in there if it was so dangerous?” Ema asked, now crossing her arms.

“I got a pretty good idea of how he felt,” Eldoon sighed, shutting the manila folder and handing it back to the girl. “An emergency operation... He's got the kid's chest open on the table. Then he finds that bullet.” He shook his head, “That's despair right there, Ema-doll. Cold despair.”

The two processed the new information in silence, piecing things together on their own. “I suppose the fact that it was the Kitaki family’s only son didn’t help Meraktis either,” Klavier said, pursing his lips.

Eldoon nodded. “And the family couldn’t exactly hand him over to anyone else. Meraktis is the only one who’s got ties to them, he’s the only one who could cover up whatever happened.”

“Is there anyone you know who could save him, Mr. Eldoon, could you ?” Ema asked, her concern for Kitaki clear in her tone.

The older man shook his head, crossing his own arms. “I'm afraid there ain't nobody in the country that could. Maybe not even in the world… He’s real lucky to be alive even now.”

Her shoulders dropped at his answer, and he placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing in reassurance.

“There’s one last thing that’s bothering me,” Klavier spoke up, having been silent as he thought over the new information. “If Alita Tiala was the nurse who penned the chart, then she would know about all this, wouldn’t she? There’s really no question in that.”

Ema’s eyes widened, and she covered her mouth in a hand at the realization. “You’re right… If she knew about all that, then why didn’t she tell Kitaki…?”

The two pondered in silence, Eldoon now reaching to squeeze Klavier’s shoulder as well.

Whatever the reason may be, it’s something they’ll find out in court tomorrow. But for now, they had much to discuss.

Chapter Text

Klavier Gavin was a formidable opponent. That much, he’ll admit.

For someone who had only had two trials in his entire career, both now being wins for the rookie defense attorney, he was damn good at deflecting the guilt towards anyone who wasn’t his client.

Sure, Apollo eventually conceded that Kitaki couldn’t have been the killer after Gavin proved Tiala’s presence in the scene, but that didn’t mean his reservations about the defense attorney went away.

The most he could do was have some respect for his opponent’s apparent skill, as well as his assistant’s own intelligence. They both put up quite the fight today.

When the trial ended, Apollo didn’t bother with any pleasantries with his learned friend like he usually did after a trial, instead immediately leaving the courtroom, only to be greeted by dozens and dozens of reporters, asking him how it felt to lose a trial for the first time.

His first loss… He didn’t even think about it when the verdict was cast. Most of the prosecutors in the district cared about their record, many boasting straight wins. Although Apollo did have an impressive record, he didn’t really take it to heart. After all, he was only interested in the truth, so the new blemish in his streak didn’t bother him all that much.

Still, he made no comment to the reporters as they swarmed him. The court police, including Trucy, escorted him out to the courtroom’s parking space, where he finally got his peace and quiet.

“What a trial, huh, Polly?” Trucy said as they walked to a parked police car. “Really makes you think about Klavier Gavin…”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to pull Trucy, but whatever it is, I’m not interested,” Apollo quickly replied, settling down on the front seat of the car, with Trucy in the driver’s seat.

“Aww, come on, Polly! You gotta admit that he was good ,” She said, nudging her little brother with an elbow. “Good skills, good personality, good looking--”

“Trucy, I’m not going to go out with the guy that landed our mom in jail, are you crazy?”

“Maybe! I don’t know! But at least I have eyes , Apollo,” Trucy snorted, starting the car’s engine and pulling them out into the streets of LA. “So, what’s the first stop?”

Apollo hummed, going over his post-trial checklist in his head, thankful for the change of subject. “Precinct. You guys will be taking Tiala down there, right? We still need to get the formal confession.”

“Ahh, don’t worry about Tiala, I got it handled.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Anywhere else?”

He leaned further into the car seat, looking outside the window. “Uh… well…”

He was cut short by the sound of his cellphone ringing, and one cursory glance from Trucy at the caller ID was enough for her to gesture to him to put the call on speaker. 

When he answered, they were both greeted by a very loud “YO! WHAT HAPPENED?!” from their beloved bandmate.

“Hey to you too, Clay,” Apollo responded, using his pinky finger to check his ears for blood.

“Yeah, yeah, hello, whatever, but what happened in that trial, bro?! I thought you said you had it in the bag, now we’re getting news that you lost?! ”

Trucy snorted. “Yeah, we lost, we lost to a really hot-- ”

“We lost the trial to a rookie attorney, but it doesn’t really matter, Clay.” Apollo shot a glare towards Trucy, who turned to stick her tongue out at him before returning her attention to the road.

“Wait, what was that about a hot attorney?”

“ Nothing, Clay, Trucy’s just being stupid--”

“Clay, google Klavier Gavin and look at the pictures, you’ll see what I’m talking about!”

“Clay do not --”

“Googling Klavier Gavin right now!”

Apollo groaned, throwing his head back at the sound of Clay tapping away at his keyboard, a gasp sounding from the phone’s speaker as he presumably found pictures of the defense attorney.

“Dude, I’ve seen this guy before! I gave him Jewel’s bibimbap recipe that one time at the grocery.” There was a pause, then a whistle. “ And oh man, he is hot. I thought you guys were supposed to have, like, wicked good eyesight?? ‘Pollo, you doin’ a’ight??”

“Clay, he’s the guy who put my mother in jail.”

“Oh shit, nevermind.”

“What?? Aww, not you too, Clay! He’s really not that bad when you get to know him!” Trucy argued, frowning as they entered the usual LA traffic, the car slowing to a stop. 

“Well, now I’m confused. How am I supposed to feel about this guy? Should I regret giving him the recipe or somethin’?”

“I don’t know, Clay! Think of him however you like, but don’t even try to set me up with him. I’m busy enough with prosecutor work and I don’t have time for a relationship anyway,” Apollo sighed, his eyebrows furrowing.

“And I’m telling you Polly, even if you don’t want to date him-- which let’s be honest, you totally do-- I still think it’d be nice to get to know the guy! As an acquaintance!” Trucy said, slowly inching the car forward.

“She has a point, dude.”

“God, you’re both insane,” Apollo huffed, shaking his head.

“Okay, you know what? We’re going to go visit mom and see what she thinks about Klavier, he was her subordinate.” Trucy flicked on the car’s signal, making a u-turn as soon as the traffic allowed her to, and soon they were on their way to the district jail.

“Trucy, can we not bother mom with this?” 

“It’s not like she has anything better to do right now, though, ‘Pollo.”

“Clay!” Apollo exclaimed, glaring at the phone in his hand.

“Sorry, too far? Too soon?”

“We’ll see you later tonight Clay, byeee!” Trucy said, reaching over to hang up the call.

“Wait, what? No! You haven’t told me about the--”

Click. And the call was dropped, silence permeating the car once again, which was unusual considering the people sat inside.

Apollo glared out the window as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. He could see Trucy glance over to him from the faint reflection in the window, but he gave no indication that he noticed her looking. 

So what if Gavin was good looking and well-mannered? He’s not going to fall head over heels for any man that showed the most basic rules of decency towards him, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to fall for the attorney that literally led his mother straight to jail for a crime she very clearly did not commit.

Yeah, he was skilled, he admitted to at least that much. And yeah, their banter was entertaining, it was nice to battle with someone who could keep up with him. And sure, he was handsome, Apollo wasn’t blind. And fine, his smile was endearing--

WOAH. NO. Apollo quickly stopped himself, flinching at the feeling of warmth on his cheeks. I do NOT have a crush on that backstabbing attorney. His lips downturned even further as he ruffled his own hair in frustration. Pull yourself together, Apollo! You’re not going to think about--

“Ooh! Is that Klavier??” Trucy exclaimed, snapping Apollo out of his thoughts. 

“What?!” He looked side to side in a panic, his head stopping at the window in time to see both Gavin and his assistant riding beside them on a motorcycle. 

Oh God, he drove a motorcycle .

Although the both of them were wearing helmets, with Gavin’s visor hiding his face, his dark purple suit was enough for Apollo to recognize the attorney. Not to mention the fact that his assistant didn’t have a visor, and he could recognize her lab coat and uniform getup easily.

Much to his dismay, the stoplight had turned red. Both the car and the motorcycle slowed to a stop right next to each other. And to make matters worse, Trucy began rolling his window down, Apollo sputtering before trying to sink down alongside the window.

“Speak of the devil, Hey Klavier! Hey Ema!” Trucy called, a wide smile spreading on her expression.

At the mention of their names, the two looked around for the source before finally facing the car window (though Apollo wished they had kept looking instead). The assistant, Ema, smiled at the sight of Trucy, waving a hand while the attorney lifted his visor and slightly leaned to look into the window of the car. 

If he had slipped down far enough in the seat, perhaps they wouldn’t see him--

“Trucy! Prosecutor Justice! What a pleasant surprise,” Gavin responded.

Oh great, they were both on a first name basis now?

“Isn’t the precinct the other way? What are you guys doing on this street?” Ema asked, her head tilting slightly. 

“We’re just gonna go somewhere real quick. If you’re worried about Tiala,  we’ll take care of her later, don’t you worry.” Trucy winked, shooting a finger gun over to them.

Gavin chuckled. “That’s great to hear. We did spend a lot of time trying to catch her in her lies after all, didn’t we, Herr Justice?”

At the mention of his name, he flinched, sinking even further down the seat until only the top of his head was visible from the outside (though considering Gavin was looking down, he could probably still see his face). “...Yeah. Sure,” he mumbled, glaring at the car floor.

“Ah… no hard feelings, I hope? We were only looking for the truth, after all…” Gavin said, Apollo could hear the guilt in his tone. Although he was technically referring to today’s trial, they both knew what he was really talking about.

He didn’t respond, ignoring Trucy’s pointed look.

Thankfully, Gavin didn’t press any further, and Trucy took it upon herself to continue the conversation. “Man, you guys got it lucky. After a trial, you guys can just head straight home,” she sighed, feigning envy.

“Actually, we’re heading back to the office. I have to write up the report for today’s trial, but I do need to bring this one back home,” Gavin replied, Apollo eventually sliding back up the seat as his spine was starting to cry out in discomfort from his awkward position.

“You know that Uncle Edgeworth said you didn’t have to, right?” Ema said, raising an eyebrow.

“Ah, I know, I know. It’s just a formality but it’s nice to stay organized and record these things, ja?”

Goddamn it. He was organized too. It was almost like he was trying to check all of Apollo’s boxes.

“Then you’re heading home afterwards?” Trucy asked, now leaning on the steering wheel with both her arms.

“Well, I need to pick up my dog from her sitter first, but yes, I’ll be heading straight home when I’m done,” he answered, shifting slightly on the motorcycle.

Of course he had a dog. Stupid, charming Gavin.

Thankfully, the stop light seemed to have heard Apollo’s silent pleas for divine intervention as they switched from red to green, and he could hear the motorcycle revving up once again.

“Looks like we part ways here, Fraulein. Maybe I’ll come watch one of your shows if you’re performing soon.” Gavin winked before pulling his visor back down. He shifted the motorcycle and got ready to go while Ema planted her hands onto his shoulder for support.

“Please do! I’d be so happy to see you guys in the crowd!” Trucy said, her smile growing wider

“‘Til next time, Trucy. Auf Wiedersehen!” 

“Bye Miss Trucy! Bye Mr. Justice!”

“See you next time, you guys!” Trucy shouted out the window, the roar of the motorcycle gradually fading in the background.

Apollo eagerly rolled his window back up, finally letting out the breath he was holding once it was shut.  He took a moment to compose himself before snapping his head towards his sister with a glare. 

“What the hell, Trucy?!”

“What?? I’m just being polite, Polly!” She seemed startled at his exclamation, glancing between him and the road. “It’s common courtesy to say hello when you see someone you recognize, you know?”

“Yeah, but it’s not common courtesy to invite someone to your shows! Especially when that someone has been a thorn on our side ever since he showed his stupid sexy face in court!” 

“Ah, but you think he’s sexy?” Trucy wiggled her eyebrows at his outburst, Apollo’s cheeks flaring red once he realized what he said.

“Wh--?? No! I-I didn’t… That’s not the point!” He sputtered, trying his damndest to keep his composure, though his attempts only made her laugh. Clearly, she was enjoying watching him struggle to function when it came to the damned attorney.

“What was the point then, Polly? I already told you, he’s a lot nicer when you actually get to know him. And you…” She reached over to poke his arm, “...Clearly want to get to know him better, right?”

He scoffed, refusing to give in to her teasing and prodding. Instead, he crossed his arms and turned his attention back to the moving landscape outside the car window.

He absolutely did not want to get to know his rival, because that’s all he is to him! A rival! An opponent in court that, sure, he wouldn't mind facing off again, but it’s not because of the attorney! 

...Or was it? 

He frowned. It was hard to get his thoughts in order. There was no question that he harbored resentment for Gavin,  after what he’s done to his family, who wouldn’t? 

And yet, although it was hard to admit, there was something about the attorney that drew him in. Deep in the depths of his being, he couldn’t help but feel… attracted to him. In some way.

Definitely not the romantic way though, absolutely not.

...Was he just really into bad boys?

“Kinda seems like the case, doesn’t it, Polly?” Trucy’s words snapped him out of his thoughts. 

Shit, did he say that out loud?

“W-what do you mean?” Apollo stammered, sitting straighter in his seat as he turned towards her.

She shrugged, turning a street before she spoke. “I mean, if you think about all the guys you’ve been with… remember that guy you got with in college? The one dad said looked like he would rob anyone at gunpoint?”

Apollo frowned, remembering that brief relationship. “...Colton wasn’t that bad, he just… looked it, I guess.”

Trucy raised an eyebrow. “And why did the two of you break up again?”

“... He got caught shoplifting.”

“Kinda ironic for a law student, don’t you think?”

“O-okay, fine, but that was one guy!” He huffed, looking away from her.

“Nah, dude. Clay was sort of a bad boy back then, wasn’t he? When you crushed on him in high school? He was kind of your… gay awakening.”

“Oh my god, please never refer to my coming out as my gay awakening .”

“But am I wrong??”

“Agh, okay, fine! So two guys, that’s just coincidence, not a pattern!” He argued, feeling his cheeks get hotter by the minute. 

Trucy tutted. “Sure, you could say that, but you’re into Klavier--”

“I AM NOT INTO GAVIN.”

“‘ Ever since he showed his stupid sexy face in court!’ he says, ‘ I’m not into Gavin!’ he then says,” Trucy spoke in a higher tone, mocking his voice and snorting when he gave her a light shove. “We both have the same perception, Apollo, you’re not foolin’ your big sister that easily,” she said, pointing to her eyes.

“Ugh… I can’t believe we’re bothering mom for something as stupid as this,” he groaned, now propping his head up on a hand as he stared out the window.

“I’m sure she won’t mind, Polly. You're her favorite son after all.”

“I'm her only son, Trucy.”

“Same difference.”

Once they received their visitor’s passes, they were led to Thalassa Gramarye Justice’s cell, Solitary Cell 13, which was fully furnished with a table, some fancy chairs, and a bookshelf filled with, well, books. 

When they arrived, Thalassa was reading on one of those fancy chairs, only looking up at the sound of her cell opening and her children stepping inside. She smiled at the sight of them, putting the book face-down on the table before standing.

The three shared a hug, Thalassa humming in content before pulling away and gesturing for them to sit on the other two chairs.

“Kinda seems like you set up shop real good here, mom,” Trucy teased, sitting down and looking around the cell. 

“Yeah… it doesn’t… really feel like a prison cell,” Apollo said, inspecting the fancy wooden table that sat between them and their mother.

Thalassa chuckled. “Ah… well. Since it seemed like I was going to be here for a while, I called in a few favors from Mr. Wright,” she explained, sitting back down on her chair.

“Mr. Wright must owe you a lot then,” he replied, crossing his arms.

“In a way, he does… but I owe him as well.” She took her book from the table, placing an envelope between pages before shutting it. “But let’s not dive into that. What brings you two here today? Did you miss your mother already?” She teased, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Ugh! We miss you more than you know, mom!” Trucy put on an exaggerated frown, leaning forward to let her mother pet her head. “But! You’re right, we’re here for a real important reason!” She quickly straightened back up, now wrapping an arm around Apollo and jostling him, much to his dismay.

They really were doing this, huh?

“Oh? Is something wrong, Apollo?” Thalassa asked, now looking over to her son.

He couldn’t help but blush, nervously rubbing his bangle. “No, it’s… it’s really nothing, mom.”

Thalassa hummed, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Dear… you know who your mother is, right?” she said, raising her right arm and showing him an identical bangle, which seemed to pinch at her skin.

He gulped.

Right. She’s the reason he even has this whole perceptive thing in the first place.

“What Polly really means to say slash ask, mom…” Trucy grinned, squeezing him closer to her. “...Is what do you think about Klavier Gavin?”

Apollo felt like he was about to melt into the chair, or if he was unlucky, into his sister.

Thalassa seemed surprised at the question, because of course she would!  Who wouldn’t be taken aback after being asked a question about the man who got you in this situation in the first place from your daughter of all people?

“What do I think about Klavier?” She hummed in thought, her eyes moving back to him.

Wait, she was seriously going to answer this question?’

“...Oh, Apollo…” Her expression softened in understanding.

He cursed this stupid family gift of perception.

Trucy laughed heartily, jostling her brother once more as she did. “See, Polly? Even mom sees it! And mother knows best, right mom?” She continued to tease him mercilessly. He let out a pitiful groan as he sank further into himself, covering his red face with his hands.

This day was getting worse by the minute.

Much to his surprise, Thalassa chuckled, and he could feel her gentle hands rub his back. When he removed his face from his hands, he could see her standing beside him, a sweet smile on her face. “Oh, I really can’t blame you, Apollo. He is a handsome man, after all.”

He sputtered, and if possible, his face grew even redder. “W-what?! No, that’s not the problem, mom!” He began, “He’s the reason you’re in here in the first place! Don’t you think that’s like… the biggest red flag?!”

Thalassa hummed, looking to the ceiling in thought. “Well… that is true…”

“See?!”

“...but I still think that Klavier is a good man.”

“WHAT?!”

“That’s what I keep telling him, mom!” Trucy said, a smug grin now planted firmly on her expression. “I keep telling him to give Klavier a chance and get to know him, but he won’t listen! That’s why we’re here, cause maybe you could knock some sense into him!”

“Oh, if you needed my approval, Apollo, then go ahead. I think the two of you would be a good fit,” Thalassa said, that calm smile of hers looking more and more sinister in Apollo’s mind.

“Wh--?! No! No no no no no , I’m not into him, mom!” He continued to argue, praying to whatever divine powers that may be to save him from this embarrassment.

His mother tutted, showing her bangle once again, which was beginning to pinch into her skin once again. 

Apollo was stunned at the sight.

No… he thought to himself, No no no, that’s… that’s not possible!

“Say, why don’t you invite him to that concert of yours, Apollo? I think that would give you a good opportunity to get to know him better,” Thalassa suggested.

At the suggestion, Trucy gasped and nodded eagerly. “That’s a great idea! I’m sure Clay would want to meet him too!” she said, turning back to Apollo, who had only just started processing the bangle’s reaction to his previous statement.

“W-wait! Slow down!” Apollo exclaimed, outstretching both his hands. 

He breathed in and out, both his mother and his sister watching, the former in concern and the latter in confusion.

“Hm… Yes, I suppose inviting him backstage and introducing him to Clay would be moving too fast…” Thalassa mused, tapping her chin with a finger.

Apollo furrowed his eyebrows. “No, no, that’s not what I meant-- I mean, yes! It would be moving too fast, but not in terms of like, a relationship or something, but like-- he-- you know-- Agh!” He threw his hands up in exasperation before slumping against the chair, breathing deeply and covering his face with his hands.

His mother put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed, giving an apologetic smile. “Alright, I apologize, Apollo. We won’t talk about it if you don’t want to. It was just fun to tease you, you seem so tense!”

An eye peeked out from behind his fingers. “Gee. Thanks, mom.”

“But she does have a point, Polly,” Trucy said, her own hand on his other shoulder.

“About what?”

“Well, for one, about Klavier. Even if you keep telling yourself you don’t want to get close to him, you could at least be a little nicer to him. He’s just doing his job, after all,” she explained, gesturing with her other hand.

Apollo frowned. “Right. Just doing his job. It’s the same with all defense attorneys, isn’t it? Doesn’t matter who you accuse and who you acquit, just as long as you win,” he huffed before quickly realizing what he said once his mother gave him a look. “Ah… of course… except you, mom.”

She shook her head. “I understand where you’re coming from Apollo. They don’t call it the Dark Age of the Law for nothing, after all,” she said, sitting back down on her chair. “But I believe you, Trucy, and even Klavier are the last hopes of the legal system. The bastions against corruption, so to speak.”

“...That’s heavy…” Trucy mumbled, squirming in her seat.

Thalassa gave a sad smile, reaching over to hold both of her children’s hands. “We’re blessed with an ability that’s helped us get this far in our careers, and since I’m no longer in for the count, it’s up to the three of you to be our light in the darkness.” She then turned to Apollo. “And you must work together.”

Apollo couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “That’s a real roundabout way of saying ‘Just trust Klavier Gavin’.”

His mother’s smile shifted into something sweeter as she winked, though the moment was cut short by the sound of the guard lightly tapping the cell’s bars, signalling that their time together was at an end.

Apollo sighed as they all stood up to share one more hug. “I’m sorry we wasted a visit on this, mom,” he mumbled into her shoulder, drawing a laugh from her. 

“I think I’d much rather have these silly conversations when you come visit, to be honest. It’ll feel like I never left,” she replied before pulling away, pinching both their cheeks. “Come visit again soon, okay?”

Trucy nodded, planting a kiss on her cheek, Apollo doing the same before they left the cell and handed their passes back to the guard.

“Right… office?” Trucy asked, pulling the car keys from her pockets.

“Yeah, office.”

Klavier had absolutely no idea what the hell he was listening to.

Well, that was a lie. He did know what he was listening to, it was Prosecutor Justice’s band’s album, GALAPAGOS . An odd name for an album, really, but somehow it fit.

See, he didn’t exactly know what to expect from the album. Judging by both the album cover and the vocalist, he assumed it would be some form of rock.

And with that assumption, he was more than happy to listen in on what his so-called rival worked on outside of law. 

Although he grew up with classical music, he wasn’t a stranger to genres like hard rock and punk, after all he was a guitar player himself, electric or otherwise. He even played in a band once! 

But this wasn’t rock.

This was metal.

Heavy metal. And sure, he wasn't unfamiliar with the gravelly and loud tones of the genre, but he didn’t expect the adorable prosecutor to be able to belt out screams like it was nothing.

Given his loud voice, he probably should have expected it.

What he absolutely didn’t expect however, was how much Ema was enjoying the rough notes of the music, even mouthing along with who he assumed to be the prosecutor’s vocals as she danced around the CD player.

He let out a sigh, watching her headbang her hair loose from its tie at a guitar solo.

It’s been around a week or so since Klavier’s last trial. He hadn’t gained any new clients during that time, so he took the  time to properly settle into Edgeworth & Co., now having a desk to the side, next to the room’s windows. 

It was a slow day, per usual, and when he wasn’t sorting through Edgeworth’s old cases, he was twiddling his thumbs like he was right now as he watched the teenager dance like nobody was watching.

It was almost like Edgeworth hired a babysitter instead of an attorney.

The song ended abruptly with a sharp tone, and she quickly clicked the pause button on the player. “So, what do you think?” she asked, breathless. “Great, right?”

He propped his head up on an arm, his other hand tapping the wooden desk as he hummed in thought. “... It was alright,” he answered, shrugging.

Ema frowned, now placing her hands on her hips. “Seriously? Prosecutor Justice personally invites you to his concert, and all you can say about his music is that it’s alright??”

Right. That was why she’s been making him listen to the album in the first place. The surprise invitation came in an envelope alongside two backstage passes, arriving earlier that morning at the office.

At first, Klavier thought someone had sent a letter of request for representation, and was itching to sink his teeth into another case. But he was both sorely disappointed and pleasantly surprised when he ripped open the envelope to see the prosecutor’s messy handwriting, inviting him to his band’s concert on the 7th of July.

“He has talent, I’ll admit to that much,” Klavier said, straightening up in his office chair. “It's just not my cup of tea, Fraulein.”

Ema huffed, ejecting the disc from the player and carefully placing it back into its signed case. “Yeah, well, I’ll bet it’s better than whatever music you made before.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What?” He narrowed his eyes. He never told the girl about his musical past at all.

As if she could read his mind, she pointed to the phone sitting on his desk. “I cracked your passcode and looked through your old pics. Your clothes back then looked so much better, by the way.”

He quickly snatched his phone, unlocking it and going to change his passcode. The girl laughed as he huffed, shoving his phone into his pocket. “You’re sure you don’t want to be a detective instead, Fraulein?”

She only smiled cryptically before planting herself on top of his desk. “Tell me more, pleeaase?”

“Ha! So you broke into my phone and looked through my pictures thinking you’ll get my secrets, hm?” 

“Yes?”

“Not a chance.”

“Boo! You’re lame.” She stuck her tongue out and hopped off, grabbing the CD player to put it away.

“Give me a good incentive to tell you, Fraulein, then maybe I’ll consider it,” he said, now pushing his chair back to place his long legs on the desk and crossing his arms.

She hummed, fiddling with various things around the room as she tried to think of a way to get him to talk.

While she was thinking, Klavier turned his attention back to the open envelope on his desk. He reached over and pulled out its contents. A note, and two cards with lanyards that said BACKSTAGE ACCESS . He put the cards back inside the envelope, tossing them back onto the desk while he read over the note one more time.

“Mr. Gavin, Ms. Skye,
LUNACY would like to formally invite you backstage to our concert
on the 7th of July, 2026.
Please make sure to wear these access cards upon entrance,
your tickets are already paid for.”

And written in a neater script at the bottom of the note;

“Hope to see you guys there! <3”

For a band of metal artists, ‘LUNACY’ was rather cordial, though that was probably just the prosecutor being cold now that he thought about it.

And there was no doubt that the neater handwriting at the end belonged to Trucy. At least one person will be excited to see us, Klavier thought, folding the note and slipping it into his pocket.

Ever since that last trial ended, he couldn’t get his mind completely off of Justice. He would pop up in his thoughts every now and then at any time of the day, and now that he had an excuse to see him again, it happened much more often than he’d like to admit.

It’s been a long time since he’s even thought of anybody that frequently, not even his brother comes up in his mind as frequently as the prosecutor did. 

It was safe to say that he was very much looking forward to the concert, and if at some point he couldn’t tolerate the loud music any longer, he’ll just be sure to bring some ear plugs.

“Ooh, I know!” Ema’s sudden exclamation snapped him out of his thoughts, and he turned his head over to watch her pull out her own phone, furiously tapping at it. “If you won’t tell me more, then I’ll just guess!”

Klavier snorted, slipping his legs off the desk as she approached. “That’s your best idea, Fraulein?”

“Shh. Listen to this and tell me if it's anywhere close to what you used to play,” she said, handing over her phone, which was open to a video dated several years ago titled ‘Poetaster v1’.

One glance at the channel hosting the video told Klavier enough as he snorted, poking Ema’s arm. “You fangirl,” he teased, earning a light shove in return.

It begins with a flash of a black and white logo, a moon with a rose making up a quarter of it, then cuts to a man with very familiar features adjusting the camera before smiling and stepping back to reveal younger versions of Lunacy.

A younger Apollo Justice with shorter hair was at the center of the screen, holding a red electric guitar. 

To his right was a younger Trucy Justice, her hair tied to a casual ponytail. She was shifting left and right with a wide grin on her face, eager to play the blue bass in her hands. 

To his left was who Klavier assumed to be the third member, Clay Terran. Like Trucy, he seemed eager to start playing as he spun the drumsticks in his hands, watching the man from earlier take his own instrument, another electric guitar a deeper shade of red than Justice’s, and place himself to the far left of the frame.

“Poetaster, take… 3?” The man said, looking at someone out of frame.

“4, dear,” Klavier could hear Thalassa speak from behind the camera, his heart dropping slightly at the sound of his mentor’s voice.

“Right! Take 4. You ready, Apollo?” The man asked Justice, who nodded promptly.

“I’m ready.”

“Alright, count us in, Clay!”

Terran clapped his sticks together for 4 beats, and the song began with what sounded like a music box out of frame. Once the music box finished its tune, all 4 instruments quickly sprang into action, with the man being both the lead guitar and the lead vocalist.

Klavier listened to the more rock-oriented song, though it was certainly still within the genre of metal. He didn’t know how old Justice was in this video, but he looked much younger. Klavier was impressed by his skill at whatever young age he may be.

But what interested Klavier the most was the man taking lead vocals and guitar, who periodically looked to the side to smile at the three teens as they played, smiling even wider when Justice started singing the background vocals.

“Who’s this?” he asked Ema, pointing to the man. 

She hummed, now leaning against his chair as she watched the video alongside him. “That’s Jove Justice, Apollo’s dad,” she explained.

“His father?”

“Yeah, he used to go by Jangly Justice or something but he dropped the title after Lunacy started. He wrote this song though,” she continued, now humming alongside the music.

Klavier wracked his brain for anyone named Jangly or Jove Justice, but frowned when he couldn’t recall anyone. “He’s a musician too, then?”

“Yeah, he's old-school. Surprised you don’t know him, though, I’m pretty sure he was kinda popular with like… rock stuff, or folk stuff.” She raised an eyebrow, now looking over to him.

He was surprised too. He was usually at the top of his game when it came to more ‘old-school’ music, particularly rock. Maybe Jangly Jove just managed to slip by his radar at some point.

“Where is he now?”

“6 feet under.”

Klavier flinched in surprise, his head snapping towards her. “What?!”

The song ended as Ema raised an eyebrow, taking her phone back. “You mean you didn’t hear? It was a pretty big thing.”

“When??”

“Seven years ago, sometime in April? There was a fire in their house and Apollo was the only one between the two of them who survived.”

Stunned, Klavier slumped in his seat. April… seven years ago…

“You really didn’t hear about it at the time?” Her head tilted as she asked, now leaning against his desk as his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“I… was in the hospital…,” he answered, feeling his palms begin to sweat as he remembered the events that led him there in the first place.

“O-oh,” Ema’s expression immediately changed from confusion to guilt, pursing her lips. “Sorry…”

“It’s alright, you didn’t know.” He tried to conjure up a smile to reassure her, but she clearly wanted to know more. 

An awkward silence drifted between the two of them, and it seemed like it would never leave until Klavier finally spoke up. “Why do you insist on knowing about my past anyway, Fraulein? I thought you wouldn’t want anything to do with me,” he half-teased, trying to dispel the silence.

She didn’t admit it, but it was clear that Ema was thankful for the change in topic as she propped herself up on the desk once again. “I just wanna know about the guy I’ll have to be sharing the space with for the rest of my summer,” she huffed, crossing her arms.

“Ah, but you won’t tell me about your backstory?”

She hummed, then shook her head. “Nah, my backstory is super boring.”

“On the contrary,” Klavier began, “I’d like to know why you’re staying with Herr Edgeworth, I remember you mentioning a sister?”

“Oh. Yeah, I have a sister. No idea where she is now though,” she said, tilting her head to the side, one hand absentmindedly rubbing the red ribbon in her hair. “I know she’s coming back though.”

Klavier hummed. “I suppose we’re on the same boat there, then.”

Ema raised an eyebrow, pausing her actions. “You have a missing sister too?”

“Brother, actually. It’s been seven years now.”

“Oh. Does it uh… have anything to do with why you were in the hospital?”

His eyes glanced down to the floor. “I hope you don’t mind, Ema, but it’s not really something I like to talk about.”

“Right. Sorry…. I won’t talk about my sister either then,” she half-joked, looking away as well.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, something for the both of us to find out eventually, ja?”

Right then, Edgeworth exited his office, closing the door behind him and making a beeline towards the office door.

“Oh, Herr Edgeworth, going somewhere again? I thought your shift at the Borscht Bowl Club wasn’t ‘til later this evening?” Klavier straightened up in his seat when his senior walked into the room.

“Ah, Klavier, Ema. I just have some important business to conduct, I’ll be back later in the afternoon.” Edgeworth finally turned around to the pair as he spoke.

Ema hopped off of Klavier’s desk, approaching her uncle. “Can I come with you this time, Uncle Edgeworth?”

The man’s shoulders visibly dropped as Ema asked her question for the third time that week, raising his hand to pat her on the head. “Sorry, Ema. Not today.”

She frowned. “When are you gonna tell me where you’ve been going lately?”

“When I’m ready. I promise you’ll know,” he answered before turning back to Klavier. “Look after Ema, will you, Klavier?”

“Klar, Chef. It’s not like you have me do anything else, anyway,” Klavier replied with a particularly unenthusiastic thumbs up.

“I’m sure you’ll find another case soon,” Edgeworth said before exiting the office with a wave goodbye.

Although he couldn’t see her face, Klavier could tell Ema was pouting. He understood, of course, he also wouldn’t appreciate having secrets kept from him by his guardian. 

A beat passed before he stood up himself, sighing. He approached the girl and gave her a pat on the shoulder. “How about some lunch? I’m sure Herr Eldoon wouldn’t mind seeing us again today. You could keep guessing the kind of music I made back then, too,” he said, trying to cheer her up.

She looked up at him for a moment, then smiled, nodding and grabbing her bag. “I bet it’s something really dated like punk rock, or something,” she said, lightening up the mood.

He laughed as he opened the door for her. “Right, sure. Punk rock is dated.”

“It is though! Do you really hear any recent news about punk rockers?”

“Ja, I actually do.”

“Well that’s probably because you’re old .”

“24 is not old, Fraulein. If I’m old then your uncle must be ancient.”

“He is!”

“We need to have a talk about what constitutes as old, Ema.”

Chapter Text

The concert was mere days away. Tickets had already been sold out and fans have been chatting nonstop as the countdown on the Lunacy website continued on, generating more and more hype as the numbers lowered every second.

Merchandise had only started hitting the shelves, but they were quickly running out of stock as the orders flooded in as fans rushed to grab what they could before the concert.

Even the team working on the concert itself were getting hyped. Special guests have been flown in from everywhere, nationally and internationally. The Sunshine Coliseum was just about ready to host the concert, with the stage and its necessary machinations being finished rather quickly.

Advertisements for the concert could be seen anywhere, in both physical and digital spaces. An entire billboard was even rented out for it.

Everyone was hyped for the return of Lunacy after their seven year hiatus, you could practically feel the energy that was buzzing around as people discussed what could possibly have led them to suddenly come back.

All that hype, and Apollo was still stuck in this damned office.

With a sigh, he leaned into his office chair, spinning it around to face the room that was much too big for his liking. Different instruments lined the walls of the office, several guitars and keyboards laying dormant, collecting dust. Between those instruments were drawers full of case files and the like, some slightly open as he never really bothered to close them properly earlier.

His desk was an organized mess as well, with papers stacked and spread around the wooden surface, their contents varying between law stuff and music stuff. To his right was his computer setup, which was currently open to his inbox, several emails left unread on the screen.

He glanced over to the wall clock hanging across the room, which read 4:40 PM in all its analog glory. He watched it closely as it continued to tick, his fingers drumming impatiently on the desk.

Usually, Mr. Wright wasn’t really a stickler for rules— which was ironic considering his profession— but when he tried to leave earlier the other day, the chief prosecutor had stopped him, stating it wasn’t quite 5 PM yet.

He didn’t know what changed, but whatever it was, its timing was incredibly inconvenient.

So instead of moping around doing nothing, he decided to finally get those reports from last week finished and submitted. At least Mr. Wright still didn’t mind how late those came into his hands.

The problem was, however, that he had finished those reports a lot quicker than he hoped. Damn him and his efficient work method. 

And so, with 20 minutes left on the clock, he let out one last sigh before standing from his chair, taking the reports from his desk and making his way to the chief prosecutor’s office.

He knocked on the door, raising an eyebrow at the sound of shifting within the room before he heard Mr. Wright’s voice calling him inside.

Carefully, he opened the door, his eyebrows rising at the sight of Miles Edgeworth inside. The former attorney sat coolly on the couch on the left hand side of the room, sipping a cup of what Apollo can only assume to be tea. He didn’t raise his head to acknowledge the prosecutor, but who could blame him?

Apollo was the one who caused his disbarment after all.

Ignoring the cold tension that formed between the two, Mr. Wright gave a warm smile to the prosecutor, clasping his hands together. “What can I do for you, Apollo?”

“I… just came to hand these off,” he said, forcing himself to look away from the former attorney as he approached the desk, handing over the manila folder.

The chief prosecutor opened the folder as he took it, scanning it while Apollo suffocated on the cold aura surrounding the other man in the room.

“Hm… I’ll take a better look at this tomorrow, I’m pretty sure these reports aren’t the only thing you’re here for?” Mr. Wright placed the folder to the side, turning back to his subordinate.

So he noticed. Mr. Wright was the only other prosecutor Apollo could think of with eyes almost as sharp as his.

“Well… I just wanted to ask why you won’t let us leave early anymore when there’s no work left to do,” Apollo admitted, stepping backwards in an attempt to step out of the tension that was continuing to form.

“Ah, that?” For eyes as sharp as his, Mr. Wright was either being willfully ignorant or actually dense for not noticing the death stare that Edgeworth was bestowing upon the both of them. “I just got a strongly worded letter about you guys leaving too early too often, just trying to avoid any more trouble, y’know?”

Apollo’s bracelet clamped tighter on his wrist. His eyes focused on the chief prosecutor’s hand as his thumb instinctively spun the ring on finger.

He tried his best to conceal any minute flinches he may have in response, opting to hum rather than reveal the fact that he knew his boss was lying to his face. He was sure Mr. Wright knew that he knew anyway.

“Right…” he said, nodding slowly. “Well, I kinda do need to leave earlier though, so I think I’m going to cash in those day-offs for the next few days, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh?” Mr. Wright cocked an eyebrow in intrigue. “Oh, right! You have that concert thing soon huh? I keep seeing ads everywhere for it.”

Thank our PR team. Apollo thought, nodding. “It needs my full attention, so I won’t be able to do any prosecutor work until then.”

“Ah… of course, of course! You can have those days off. I mean… you have seven years worth of vacation days left, so… who am I to say no?” Mr. Wright smiled, genuinely happy to hear that Apollo was taking a short break from law.

He returned the smile, bowing slightly. “Thanks, Mr. Wright. I’ll uh… see you next week.”

“See you next week! You can go ahead and leave early today, Apollo. I’ll take care of it,” Mr. Wright replied, waving a hand dismissively.

“Ah, thanks again, Mr. Wright.” He quickly made his way to the door, relieved to finally leave Edgeworth’s growing oppressive presence.

“No problem, have fun!”

And with that, he left the office and promptly shut the door behind him. He could hear the two continue whatever conversation they had before he came in, but decided it would be rude to eavesdrop. So, he went back to his office to pack up and go on his way.

“Are you excited? I’m excited! Tell me you’re excited too, Polly!” Trucy was practically bouncing off the walls as she giggled, hugging her baby blue guitar to her chest as she hopped in place. 

Off to the side of the large studio room, Clay was sitting on his drum set, laughing as he spun his sticks around. “God, Truce, please tell me you didn’t have any caffeine before you got here.”

“She did.” Apollo sighed, sitting on a large amp as he tuned his bright red guitar. “‘One medium cafe mocha to go, please!’” he mimicked her voice, earning a deserved smack on the arm as he laughed.

“First of all, I do not sound like that. Second, I needed the caffeine, Clay! The Chief wanted us to work overtime on this case, and I didn’t have any time for a nap—”

“—You shouldn’t even be napping on the job, Truce.”

“—so I was scared that I was going to be super sleepy when we got to the studio, and I wanted to be amped up for rehearsal! You know, cause I’m excited!! Aren’t you excited?! You didn’t say yes yet!” Trucy sped through her words as she pointed a finger at Apollo.

He gently pushed her finger away as he stood, chuckling. “Yeah, yeah, I’m excited—”

“SO LET’S GO!!” She exclaims, throwing her hands up. “Come ooonn! We’ve been waiting for you for so long!”

“Yeah, ‘Pollo you should Apollo- gize.” Clay snorted, indulging himself with a ba-dum-tsh while the studio echoed with Apollo’s groans and Trucy’s loud laughter.

A knock on the door moved the attention away from Clay’s terrible pun, Apollo walking over to open it. Jewel peeked into the studio, staying on the other side of the doorway.

“Hey, they said you guys only have 2 or 3 hours left before they have to close up,” she informed the three, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder.

Apollo nodded. “Got it. Thanks, Jewel, we’ll start now.”

The teen nodded and closed the door. 

“You know what I don’t get, ‘Pollo?” Clay said, Apollo making his way back to where he was before. “We make bank, but we’re still renting a studio for someone else. Why don’t we just buy one for ourselves so we can rehearse for longer?”

He hummed as he tried to think of a reply, making sure everything was alright with his guitar. “I don’t know, honestly. I guess… ever since we lost the house, I never really thought of buying another studio.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder, looking up to see Trucy giving him a sad smile. “It’s been seven years, Polly. The fire wasn’t your fault. There’s nothing wrong with treating ourselves every once in a while, right?”

Apollo couldn’t help but feel the guilt bubbling up again in his stomach. That night… perhaps if he hadn’t…

No. Now wasn’t the time for those thoughts. They were finally coming back after their seven year hiatus, he should be feeling excited, not regretful.

It’s what his father would have wanted, anyway.

“Yeah… you’re right. I’ll look into some studios we can get then.” Apollo nodded. He chuckled as the other two whooped. “Now come on, we don’t have all the time in the world right now, so… Clay?”

Clay nodded, giving his sticks one last spin. “And a one, two, three, four!”

Chapter Text

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me…”

Apollo was bouncing his leg up and down frantically and mumbling to himself. He had one hand nestling the head where a killer headache was forming while Trucy, just as distressed as he was, took statements from Gavin and Ema. 

He was sitting on one of the large cases outside of Lamiroir’s dressing room, right behind Trucy as she went on with her detective work.

What was supposed to be one of the best days of his music career—a triumphant return after a seven year hiatus—turned into one of the worst days of his life. 

Apollo wasn’t one to believe in superstition, but after losing his all-important keyring, Trucy being out of beat with her performance, and his newly-delivered guitar all the way from Borginia spontaneously combusting on stage… he was beginning to feel that the universe was against him for one reason or another.

“Yes…When we heard the bang, we tried to get into the door…”

Oh right. And Gavin was there. Just the cherry on top of his shit sundae.

“So the door was locked?” Trucy asked, noting everything down in her little notepad. She was still in her concert getup, all sparkly and sequined. Seeing her all dressed up doing detective work was almost funny, but Apollo couldn’t find it in himself to laugh.

“Ja, it was. I had to break it down to get inside, but by the time we got in…” Gavin trailed off, and the girl he held by the shoulder let out a gasp. Apollo raised his head to see her with a hand over her mouth, choking back tears. His bad mood lessened slightly, a sense of pity and regret wiggling its way into his heart. If he hadn’t invited the two to the concert, perhaps she wouldn’t have had to see such a grisly scene…

Or at least, he assumed it was. He couldn’t bring himself to look into the room, but seeing a fresh corpse couldn’t have been a good experience for anyone—especially not a teenager.

He took a deep breath in. He had to get it together. Not only was this scene in his concert, but he had an obligation as a man of the law. He had to take responsibility and get to the bottom of this murder. 

“Trucy, could you get to investigating the scene itself? We need to see what we can find while it’s still fresh,” he said, standing up and placing an arm on his sister’s shoulder. 

Trucy pursed her lips. “I…Maybe we should wait for the rest of the force to arrive,” she said, hesitant. Apollo raised an eyebrow. “I just…I don’t want to look at it yet…I don’t think I’ll be able to find anything, myself,” she continued, closing her notepad. “Fresh eyes and stuff, you know?”

“...Alright,” Apollo sighed. He supposed she had a point. “Could you go look for Clay, then? I haven’t seen him since this whole thing started.”

Trucy nodded, giving Gavin and Ema one last smile before walking off.

Apollo sighed, scratching the back of his head before addressing the other two. “As for you two…Nobody can know about what happened here beyond the police, alright?” he said, raising his head to look Gavin straight in the eye and ignoring the warm sensation that bloomed in his chest. “I…Ahem. I’ll have some documents for the two of you to sign as civilians, so…just sit tight.”

Gavin, with his stupid, understanding eyes, nodded. “Ja, of course. We’ll help however we can, Prosecutor Justice.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Apollo quickly replied, shaking his head. “Forget that you’re a lawyer—you have no client to defend. Right now, you’re two civilians that got caught up in all this, nothing else. So don’t touch anything.”

“But, Mr. Justice!” Ema cried out, pulling herself out of Gavin’s grasp. “We can help! I brought all of my forensic science equipment, we can do some preliminary tests right here at the scene—!”

“Fraulein,” Gavin spoke up before Apollo could, the man gently placing a hand on her shoulder again. “Prosecutor Justice is right. Let’s not get in the way of the detectives, alright?” 

Ema’s face fell, and that feeling of guilt poked at Apollo again. He knew the girl only wanted to help, but he had to take responsibility for everything that’s happened. He would only feel worse if he let a minor poke around a fresh crime scene. A small, dark part of him was thankful to Gavin for stepping in quickly. He wasn’t sure if he had the guts to say no to her if she continued to insist.

“Well, Prosecutor Justice. Where can we wait?” Gavin asked, gently bringing Ema back to his side, the girl looking down at her feet and clutching her overstuffed bag.

“You can wait at the stage for now, so we can still keep an eye on you. Everyone else should be escorted out by now, so…” Apollo answered, gesturing behind them with his chin.

Gavin nodded and turned around without another word alongside Ema. He gave him one last glance over the shoulder before walking towards the stage.

As soon as they were out of his sight, Apollo let out a sigh, knees crumbling beneath him. 

He was beyond exhausted—the concert itself was tiring in and of itself, but now a murder was piled on top of his already dwindling energy. He didn’t know if he could depend on himself to keep a sharp eye. Not even enhanced sight can save him from the limits of the human body.

Nonetheless, he had to push on. His mother wouldn’t let him slack off, after all.

He forced himself to stand, rubbing his face and ignoring the sensation of his makeup coming off. After a few more rounds of breathing, he steeled himself and entered the dressing room, ready to confront the crime scene and the corpse that…

That wasn’t there?

“What?” He blinked once, twice, rubbed his eyes again…Nothing. The corpse wasn’t there. Why wasn’t it there?

He looked around the room frantically. There were two bullet holes, a pool of blood…No, this was definitely the crime scene, he didn’t just walk into a random dressing room.

“Polly, Polly!” He heard Trucy shout, her footsteps thundering in the hallway. When he turned around he saw her panting, holding onto the doorframe for support. 

“Truce? What’s going on, where’s the body—?!”

“I-It’s on the stage!”

“What?!”

“It’s not just that…Clay…Clay, he…!”

Apollo rushed past Trucy, using the last of his energy to sprint down the hallway, making his way to the stage to see Gavin standing in the wings, eyes cast upwards with a serious expression, holding Ema close to cover her vision of the stage.

Dread filled Apollo’s body as he walked past the pair to see the platform that was used in Lamiroir’s performance raised high in the air but slowly descending. That platform should have been completely retracted after that performance—who raised it…?!

It was an agonizing descent, but Apollo wished it had never descended in the first place.

On top of the platform was the missing corpse, along with their missing drummer, Clay Terran, unconscious and clutching the dead man’s sleeve.

Chapter Text

“What do you mean we're not going?!” Ema’s voice rang out in the office, much louder than Klavier expected. He had his eyes closed as the girl clutched the lapels of his blazer, using the couch as a boost to reach his height. 

Once he was sure she stopped yelling, he opened his eyes and gave her a shrug. “We don't have a reason to go, Fraulein—”

“Yes, we do! She quickly interjected, now shaking the man back and forth. “Clay Terran is not a murderer! He's the sweet one in the band and he couldn't even hurt a fly! That’s his whole thing!”

“Okay, first of all, you don't actually know the man,” Klavier replied, grabbing her wrists and stopping her from shaking him any further, “You only know the persona he puts out on stage.”

Ema frowned, letting go of him and sinking into the couch with a pout, crossing her arms. 

“Secondly, it's likely we'll be called to court to testify, so you'll be able to see him tomorrow, anyway,” He continued, running hands over his blazer and erasing any sign of abuse. 

“But… He’s innocent! Why can't we go and defend him instead?” Ema’s voice took on a sadder tone as she continued to sink into herself, her arms wrapping around herself. 

Klavier paused, thinking to himself before kneeling down, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder as he looked at her eye to eye. “Ema… Listen, as much as I'd love to defend Mr. Terran, I don't exactly have a career that an international rockstar would feel confident in.”

“But you're the only person who's ever won against Apollo Justice, isn't that good enough?” Ema looked at him with hope in her eyes, her hands scrunching up her shirt. 

Klavier shrugged again. “Let's just hope Mr. Terran will hire a competent lawyer he trusts.”

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Both inhabitants of the office looked at it, then at each other, and when Ema only drew into herself on the couch, Klavier stood to answer the knock. 

He took a quick look at himself through one of Ema’s science-y machines, making sure he looked presentable before opening the door with as dazzling a smile as he could muster. “Hello! Welcome to Edgeworth and—Prosecutor Justice?”

“WHAT?!” Ema screamed from behind, startling the poor man on the other side of the door. Justice wore a jacket over his usual shirt and tie, and he removed his baseball hat to look at Klavier with a serious expression. 

“Mr. Gavin… Um…Good afternoon,” the prosecutor said stiffly, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. His eyes roamed everywhere but at Klavier as he rocked himself back and forth on his feet. His attention was quickly captured by the girl who scrambled to her feet and ran as fast as she could towards the door, nearly flinging herself outside in her haste. “A-and Ms. Skye too, I see.”

“Call me Ema!” She quickly said, her previously morose expression quickly brightening at the sight of her idol. 

Klavier held back a chuckle. He could tease her about it later. 

“Alright… hi there, Ema,” Justice gave a small smile, though it was obvious he felt awkward in the presence of the defense attorney. Klavier couldn't blame him, in fact he was still reeling from the sight of the prosecutor at their doorstep. 

“Herr Justice… what brings you here?” He asked, fiddling with one of his bangs. He won't lie to himself and say that this wasn't a pleasant surprise. He always wanted to see the prosecutor more out of his element; Outside of all the rockstar and prosecution business. 

“... Listen, can I come in first?” Justice frowned, looking over his shoulder. “Paparazzi’s been following me around all day yesterday, I don't know how much longer I can stay off their radar.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Klavier quickly stood to the side, letting the shorter man briskly enter then closing the door behind him. 

Klavier locked the door and turned to see the prosecutor looking around the cluttered space, scratching his head. “Jesus, it looks like a lab threw up in here,” He said, looking questioningly at the other two. 

“They're all my forensic science equipment!” Ema placed her hands on her hips, raising her head in pride of her… collection. “Uncle Edgeworth got them for me.”

Justice frowned at the mention of Edgeworth. “How on earth could Edgeworth possibly—” He then stopped himself, his shoulders dropping as realization settled onto him. “... Mr. Wright…” he sighed, shaking his head. 

“Right!” Ema snapped her fingers and grinned. “Don't you just love having connections in the industry?”

“Okay, beyond Herr Edgeworth’s tendencies to spoil his niece—” “Hey!” “—What are you here for, Herr Justice?” Klavier asked, stepping forward towards the prosecutor. “... Not that you're not welcome here, any time, of course!” He quickly added, feeling a bit of warmth on his cheeks. 

Justice seemed to hesitate, Klavier’s gaze falling to one of his hands in his pockets which seemed to be clutching something. He thought to himself, lightly sucking in the inside of his cheek as he did. Perhaps the prosecutor was nervous—he did seem more confident in court and on stage than in front of other people. Maybe it was time for Klavier to be a proper host… In the absence of Edgeworth, of course. 

“Okay, how about you take a seat first, Herr Justice?” He proposed, gesturing to the largely uncluttered couch. “I'll brew up some tea from Herr Edgeworth’s collection.”

“Ooh, he's not gonna like that,” Ema snickered, a tone of mischief in her voice as she settled back down on the couch alongside Justice. 

“Well if he's going to make me babysit you the whole time I'm here, then I'll continue to make myself comfortable in his office,” Klavier replied, sticking his tongue out at the teenager when she did the same. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself. 

He navigated to Edgeworth’s private office to look for the tea and excuse himself from Justice’s presence. He figured that him being there made it more awkward than Justice stepping into the office of the lawyer he disbarred. He thought that maybe being alone with just Ema would be enough to loosen up the man in an otherwise tense environment. 

Edgeworth’s personal office was significantly neater than the rest of the space. It was sparsely decorated, with a few picture frames on his desk and a large figurine of the Steel Samurai being a few of the only non-law related items inside. 

Curiosity seized him, and Klavier picked up one of the frames: a blue, wooden one. Inside was a picture of Edgeworth’s wedding, he and Prosecutor Wright were sharing a tender kiss, each holding a flute of champagne in their hands. While the prosecutor clearly couldn't hold in his joy, Edgeworth only had a reserved smile in comparison—though, judging by the brushing of pink on his pale complexion, Klavier could tell that the former lawyer was just as happy as his new husband. 

Klavier smiled. He rarely saw Edgeworth without his signature expressionless… expression, his lips always pressed into a fine line. It was nice to know that even after losing his career, he found happiness in the darkness that no doubt followed. 

When he put the frame back down, a small piece of paper slipped from the picture, dropping onto the desk. Klavier quickly bent to pick it up but couldn't help reading its contents. 

“MASON System …?” He read to himself, furrowing his brow. That was the only thing written on the paper, on top of a strange symbol that Klavier couldn't recognize. He turned the paper around to read the other side, only to be met with a complicated diagram of sorts that he couldn't quite wrap his head around. 

“What are you working on, Herr Edgeworth…?” He mumbled to himself, looking at the frame where the paper slipped out of. 

He huffed. He'll confront the other man about this later on. He quickly placed the paper back into the frame and looked around, spotting the collection of jars of dried tea leaves and picking one at random before leaving. 

Klavier reentered the room to see Ema talking animatedly at Justice, who (against all odds) was listening quite raptly to what Klavier assumed to be another lecture on forensic science. Neither of them seemed to notice the other man returning, so instead of joining them, he went about brewing the tea, listening to the two converse in the background and trying to put what he saw in Edgeworth’s office out of his mind. 

“Oh, Klav, you're back,” Ema spoke as soon as she noticed Klavier approaching with 2 cups of tea. He raised an eyebrow. 

“‘Klav?’ I didn't know we were close enough for nicknames, Fraulein,” He chuckled before moving to pour a third cup for himself. 

“I…! Listen, fop, i-it just came out, alright—don’t read into it!” Ema stumbled over her words, pointing an accusing finger at the lawyer as her face turned a particularly dark shade of red.

A snort sounded out beside her, and the two looked to see Justice with his head turned away from the both of them. The shaking of his shoulders betrayed the laugh he was trying to hold back, and Klavier smiled, relieved that the other man was comfortable enough to have a little chuckle in their presence.

“Something funny, Herr Justice?” He teased, taking his cup and having a sip. 

Justice shook his head and turned around, a smile plastered on his face that he was desperately trying to wipe off with his hand. “No, no, no, I just…it just reminds me of Clay, the way you two talk,” he said, a hint of sadness in his tone.

The atmosphere of the room darkened somewhat, Ema’s expression dropping immediately as she also took a sip from her cup. 

Justice cleared his throat, straightening in his seat and clasping his hands together. “Alright, well…I should get to the point.”

Klavier nodded, putting his cup down to cross his legs and place his hands on his knee, looking intently at the prosecutor. “ Natürlich . What is it that you need from us, Prosecutor Justice?”

Finally, Justice removes whatever he was fiddling with in his jacket pocket, revealing a neatly folded piece of paper. He handed it to Klavier with a hand, and for the first time in his visit, looked him straight in the eye. “I came to hand this to you.”

Klavier cocked an eyebrow, taking the paper and carefully unfolding it as Ema moved to his side, leaning over to see as well. “This is…A request for representation…”

Ema let out a gasp, snatching the paper from Klavier’s hand to look through it herself.

“Yes…” Justice nodded, rubbing the skin beneath his bangle. “I…I don’t know a lot of defense attorneys in this state—In fact, I’d bet my life that no other defense attorney would want to take a request from me at all.”

“But you came to me because…?” Klavier tilted his head in questioning. He was…flattered that the prosecutor came to him. They’ve only had one case together, after all, and he was under the impression that the other man hated him for…well…

“I came to you because…” Justice sucked in air through his teeth, crossing his arms and looking away from Klavier. He paused for a moment before looking back at him with a more determined expression. 

He pointed a finger at him. “...Listen, this doesn’t mean I trust you, alright? I…I’ll never get over what you did to my mother. That’s not something I can forgive.” He then sighed, furrowing his brows. “But Clay…he’s innocent. I know he’s innocent, and I can’t think of any other lawyer I would want to handle his case. You're…the lesser evil.”

“I see…” Klavier placed a hand under his chin. Of course Justice wasn’t going to forgive him that easily—he wasn’t sure if he himself had gotten over Thalassa Justice’s disbarment and subsequent arrest. It really was the start of all this chaos, and he was still stumbling through the aftermath.

“I can’t blame you for being hesitant about taking this case,” Justice said, standing up. The statement caught Klavier by surprise, and he looked up at him with confusion. “But, if you think about it, taking a case this big could be really good for your career! And since Clay is innocent, it’ll be a really good step up for you—”

“Let’s get one thing straight, Herr Justice,” Klavier cut him off quickly, standing up as well. He felt slightly offended, realizing that was how the other man viewed him this whole time.

 “I understand your hesitance about entrusting this case to me. I know no matter how much I apologize or try to appeal to you, that you have every right to hate me.” Klavier knew exactly what he was saying, even as Justice averted his eyes from him again. They had to talk about this eventually, especially if it seemed like their paths would continue to intertwine in the future.

“You can think whatever you like about me, and believe whatever you want—but if there’s one thing I want you to know about me, it’s that I will never, never take cases for the prestige.” As he spoke, Justice slowly raised his head again, looking up at him with an expression Klavier had never seen before on him: hope. 

“I’m a lawyer because I believe in my client. And more than that, I believe in the truth.” Klavier gave another smile, this time, a real genuine one. “And I’ll prove it tomorrow in court. You can count on that.”

The two looked at each other, and it felt as though they’ve finally come to a mutual understanding. There was no longer hostility on either side, nor an obligation to walk on eggshells. Klavier felt that they were finally seeing each other as legal partners.

“...Then I’ll see you in court tomorrow, Klavier Gavin,” Justice said, with newfound determination.

“Wait, you’re prosecuting?!” Ema burst out from behind Klavier, absolutely baffled. “But…but you just said you believed he was innocent! Isn’t he your best friend?”

“It’s precisely because he’s my best friend that I have to be the one to prosecute his case,” Justice said, nodding towards Ema. “Any other prosecutor would fight for his guilty verdict…I just want to come to the truth.” He then turned back to Klavier with his own smile.

Justice then cleared his throat, putting his baseball cap back on. “Well, I better go build my case for tomorrow. Both of you should make your way to the detention center as soon as you can, Clay should be done with interrogations.”

Klavier nodded, walking over to open the door for the prosecutor. “We’ll do that as soon as possible. Thank you for visiting us, Herr Justice.”

Justice paused, one hand on the door and one foot on the other side. He inhaled sharply before looking up to Klavier. “Just…call me Apollo.”

Klavier resisted the urge to grin like an idiot, instead squeezing the doorknob with all his might as he maintained a calm and composed demeanor. “Then, I look forward to seeing you tomorrow…Apollo.”

Apollo chuckled, nodding. “Yeah. See you, Braidy.” He gave a two-finger salute before walking off briskly.

Klavier closed the door, pressing his lips tightly together as he immediately started replaying the moment again in his head, a comfortable warmth spreading throughout his body.

“Oh my God…” Ema said, leaning against the couch with her arms crossed, looking at Klavier. “You have a crush on Apollo Justice.”

Chapter Text

Klavier and Ema left the office as soon as they got their bearings, making their way down to the detention center on Klavier's Hog. As they barrelled down Japanifornian traffic, Ema was scribbling notes, using Klavier's back as a table.

“I hope you remember everything we saw, Fraulein!” Klavier yelled over the sound of the bike’s engine as he weaved around cars. 

“What kind of forensic investigator would I be if I didn't?!” Ema yelled back, now scribbling even harder. 

“Then tell me what we got so far while we're not there yet!”

“Okay! Victim is Romein LeTouse, Lamiroir and Machi Tobaye’s manager! Found dead in their shared dressing room, probably shot! We heard the bang during the third act of the concert, when both Apollo and Trucy were on stage!”

Klavier hummed, nodding to himself. “Do we know why they implicated Herr Terran, besides the whole finding him on stage with the dead body?!”

“From what I've read online, they're saying Clay's the only one without an alibi! He was missing for the last two acts since he wasn't needed on stage!”

“What about Lamiroir and Machi Tobaye?!” He asked, mind casting back to the pair of strange men: Both tall, blonde, and cold. He remembered how awkward it felt to stand in their presence, with them whispering away to each other in their foreign language. 

He remembered the strange feeling he had, staring at Lamiroir’s mask. 

“Well, they both have alibis for the time we heard the gunshot! All the concert staff saw them resting in a common area backstage!”

Klavier huffed. “So Herr Terran was really the only one without a solid alibi?!”

“Pretty much!”

There was a pause before Ema spoke up again, her scribbling stopping. “You know, Klav, I'm starting to think we just can't have a normal, straightforward killing in this country!”

“Certainly not how things are in Germany!”

“Oh my god…YOU ARE NOT FROM FUCKING—!”

“Clay Terran, please. We’re his legal representation,” Klavier spoke smoothly, flashing his attorney’s badge to the lady guard working reception at the detention center. The woman took one glance at him, sighed and turned around to pick up a phone.

As they waited for things to get sorted, Klavier turned around, leaning against the receptionist’s deck and straightening his jacket. “I forgot to thank you for the massage earlier, Fraulein,” he said, grinning at the girl who stood meters away with a strong frown marring her expression.

“You know, fop, sometimes I like to hypothesize what your face would look like after I beat it with a hammer,” Ema hissed, stomping towards the desk as the receptionist haphazardly tossed their visitor’s passes on top of it, mumbling the number of the room their client was in.

“I’d like to think I’d still be beautiful,” He chuckled, taking one of the passes and flashing a smile to the guard in thanks.

They made their way inside the detention center, led into one of the many blank rooms in the facility. They were then sat down and told to wait.

Klavier tapped his fingers idly on the wooden panel that served as their table, looking around the other side of the room for any sign of Clay Terran entering any time soon. It was only when he noticed that something was slightly off beat with his tapping that he realized Ema was nervously tapping her legs on the floor.

“Fraulein? Everything alright?” He tilted his head slightly to look at her, the girl immediately stopping once he spoke.

“Yeah, yeah…It’s just…” She breathed in, a light shade of pink appearing on her cheeks. “I’ve gotten used to Trucy and Apollo but I…I’ve never met Clay before…”

Ah…Just those starstruck nerves again. Klavier chuckled, patting Ema on the shoulder. “Well aren’t you lucky? You get to talk to all three members of your favorite band.”

But Ema only sighed. “I just wish they were different circumstances…”

The door on the other side of the window opened, and in came Clay Terran, idly rubbing his wrists—presumably where he was handcuffed—On first impression, Klavier could only think that he looked tired…most likely from being grilled all night.

“So…you’re the famous Klavier Gavin, eh?” He said, sitting down on the plastic chair. 

“And you’re the famous Clay Terran,” Klavier responded quickly, giving the superstar his signature smile.

“You know, we’ve actually met before, Klavier—can I call you Klavier? Anyway, we met back at the grocery, remember? I gave you a bibimbap recipe!” The other man spoke quickly, gesturing wildly and going between leaning back and leaning forward so fast that Klavier was getting whiplash watching him.

“Ah…! Yes, I remember! I actually cooked it that night, it’s quite delicious—”

“Ahem!” Ema loudly cleared her throat, seemingly broken out of her nerves already as she shot a glare at Klavier and gestured to her little notebook.

“Oh, sorry! Didn’t mean to ignore you or anything, haha! I’m Clay, what’s your name?” Clay turned towards Ema, leaning forward and giving her his own little smile. 

Ema blushed lightly under the drummer’s gaze. “A-ah…E-Ema Skye! I’m a forensic investigator!” She blurted out her introduction, standing up and giving Clay a full salute.

Klavier bit back the urge to laugh, being reminded of when the girl first encountered the Justice siblings.

Clay, however, didn’t hold back at all, letting out a boisterous laugh, even slapping his knee. “Haha! I love that! It’s great to meet you Ema—can I call you Ema?”

“Yes! You can call me Ema!” She sat back down, now inching closer to the window, her chair screeching slightly against the floor.

The guard behind Clay also let out a loud clearing of the throat, glancing over at Klavier and gesturing to the clock. Klavier pursed his lips. Right, it was time to get down to business.

“Sorry about that,” Clay said, his smile taking on a sadder look. “‘Pollo tells me I have that effect on people… He says it's usually a good thing but I guess it isn't this time around.”

“No need to apologize, Herr Terran. It’s nice to have a friendly client every once in a while,” Klavier said, subconsciously recalling Edgeworth’s steely cold gaze and Kitaki’s threats of violence. “Ahem. Anyway, let’s get started, shall we?” He nodded to Ema, who flipped open her notebook and poised her pen above a blank page.

“What exactly do you know about the murder, Mr. Terran?”Ema asked, looking much more serious than before.

Clay frowned, crossing his arms. “Not much, honestly…I-I know it’s not really a good alibi but after the first act of the concert, I just went straight to our dressing room to rest.”

“You were in the adjacent room when the murder happened?” Klavier tilted his head.

“Yeah, but I had my ear plugs in—As a drummer, I’m always around loud noises, so I have to protect my hearing.” He then looked away bashfully, “Um…I’m kinda embarrassed to say but I actually fell asleep when the second act started…”

Klavier and Ema looked at each other, frowning. This really wasn’t as good of an alibi as they hoped.

“Could you tell us more about the concert? Especially about what part you had in it,” Ema continued, scribbling everything down.

Clay nodded. “Well…Honestly, ‘Pollo and Truce had more of a hand in it than I did. ‘Pollo especially did a lot of the organizing, like planning out all the acts and stuff.”

“So was Prosecutor Justice the one who located Lamiroir?” Klavier asked, clasping his hands together.

“Oh, Lamiroir was all Trucy, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it kinda caught ‘Pollo off guard ‘cause it was so last minute. Truce just came in suddenly saying she found a musician and that she wanted him to play at our concert,” Clay hummed, eyes moving upwards as he recounted events. 

“‘Pollo was really hesitant about it, especially since he already had everything planned out, but then Truce said she already invited him over so ‘Pollo had no choice but to accommodate him.” 

He then shrugged. “He got a sweet new guitar out of the deal though…shame it burst into flame, it looked really nice.”

“It was quite the show,” Klavier commented, remembering the sight of the prosecutor flailing about high up in the air, trying to put out a flaming guitar. 

“Anyway, I was mostly there for the vibes, you know? If they told me to do something, I’d do it but for the most part, all I did was practice my drumming up until the concert.”

“And the concert was in three acts?” Klavier pressed on.

Clay shook his head. “Four, actually. ‘Pollo had to add that second act in for Lamiroir. I was supposed to come back in the last act before the show ended.”

“Hmm…how about the victim, Mr. Terran? Did you know him?” Ema continued, raising an eyebrow.

“I…wouldn’t really say I know him. I met him when we met up with Lamiroir and Machi at the airport, and I saw him around during rehearsals but I never actually spoke to the guy.”

“You’ve never had contact with Herr LeTouse?”

“Nope, never. I swear.” Clay then drew an X over his heart and raised both his hands up in surrender. 

“Okay…did you sleep the entire time, Mr. Terran?”

“Well…no,” Clay furrowed his brows, scratching the back of his head. “I woke up when all the commotion was happening, Trucy was the one who woke me up saying there’s been a crime and I needed to get out.” 

A deep frown then appeared on his features, “I remember…I was really woozy, post-nap wooze, you know? I was about to leave the dressing room when BAM! ” He then left palm with a fist. “...I’m out again.”

“Wait,” Klavier frowned, “You’re saying somebody knocked you out, Herr Terran?”

Clay nodded. “Yeah, I got the bump to prove it and everything.”

“Did you see who it was?!” Ema quickly stood, leaning against the window.

The other man sighed, looking downwards. “”Fraid not…They came up behind me.”

“But how? Weren’t you facing the door?” Ema frowned, sitting back down.

“That’s what I wanna know too,” Clay replied, shaking his head. “All I know is when I woke up, everyone was looking at me like I did something, and the guy’s body was just…right beside me.” He shivered, rubbing the back of his neck.

There was a lull in the conversation as Ema wrote everything down and Klavier pondered over the details.

If what Clay was saying is true, which Klavier had no doubt about at all, that meant that there was a distinct possibility of a third party being involved. The only question is, how? When the man died, the door was locked from inside—Klavier distinctly remembered wiggling the knob to no avail and needing to knock down the whole thing to get inside. 

There were also those last words he heard… Witness…the Siren… He had a feeling he knew exactly who LeTouse meant, but that would mean that he could be a potential suspect as well…

“Sorry I can’t be of more help,” Clay spoke up, that sad smile on his features again. “I really wish I knew more but…”

“It’s alright, Herr Terran,” Klavier smiled back reassuringly. “You’ve been a great help, actually. I think all we need to do now is investigate the scene and see if there’s anything we can find that correlates with your testimony.”

“Oh, I’m glad I at least did something,” the other man chuckled, nervously rubbing his head again. “I-I’m really no good with all this…law stuff. I just let ‘Pollo and Truce do their thing, you know? Never really asked questions or anything…”

“You’re doing great, Mr. Terran! I promise!” Ema was also quick to reassure, placing her heavy bag onto the table to stuff her notebook into. 

“We’ll see you in court tomorrow for your trial. I promise, we’ll find something that can help your case,” Klavier said as he stood up, fixing his blazer once again. 

A buzz sounded throughout the complex, signaling that visiting hours were over. The guard standing idle over on Clay’s side of the window walked over to him, gesturing for him to stand.

“I really appreciate this, Klavier!” He said as handcuffs were re-secured around his wrists. “If Apollo trusts you, then I trust you too!”

Klavier and Ema watched Clay be led out of the room, the former biting the inside of his cheek again. “...Come on, Fraulein. Let’s go see that crime scene.”

Chapter Text

It was late in the afternoon when the two finally arrived at Sunshine Coliseum, Klavier feeling a sharp sense of dread when he remembered everything that had happened had only happened in less than 24 hours. The realization exhausted him, but he knew for his client’s sake that he needed to keep going.

“You know, in hindsight…” Ema spoke, dismounting the motorbike and removing her helmet, revealing a deep frown on her face. “...We all knew Lunacy’s comeback was gonna be historical but…I don’t think anyone meant it like this.”

Klavier placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Nobody did, Fraulein. I’m sure Prosecutor Justice and his band will have another chance to reenter the scene, ja?”

Ema nodded stiffly, handing Klavier her helmet and taking her bag from the compartment at the back of the bike. Once her bag was around her shoulder once more, a new sense of determination seemed to invigorate her. “...Okay. Let’s go see what we can find!”

The two easily found their way backstage, having been through the path before. After showing the police guarding the area Clay’s representation request, they let them in without any question. They made their way to the familiar hallway leading to the dressing rooms, the area looking exactly as they remembered it last night. Not even a single speck of dust was out of place.

“Perhaps we can start here,” Klavier proposed, gesturing generally at the hallway, “There’s a chance we might find something that—”

“FREEZE!”

Klavier and Ema did exactly as requested, the two slowly turning around to see a tall man with a single streak of white going through the elaborate (and large)  curl of his dark hair. The man gave a smile that could only be described as shark-ish. “You’re swimmin’ into my territory now…Gavin.”

Klavier couldn’t stop the grin that spread throughout his own face at the sight of his familiar friend, his arms outstretched as he approached him. “Daryan! It’s been too long!”

Ignoring Ema’s mutterings about there being another fop in the building, Klavier pulled the detective into a firm embrace. As they pulled away, Daryan gave him a strong pat in the back as he let out a boisterous laugh. “Scared ya, did I? Really thought someone was comin’ to arrest ya?”

“Anyone would if they yelled like you did…” Ema huffed, crossing her arms. 

Daryan tilted his head, his curl following the movement. “And who’s this? You goin’ around pickin’ up teenagers now, Klav?”

“What? No!” Klavier flustered, shaking his head, earning yet another laugh from the other man.

“I’m kiddin’, I know how you are, man,” he snorted before approaching the girl, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet ya, I’m Daryan Crescend, detective.” 

Ema gave Daryan’s hand a look, assessing how she felt about the man standing in front of her, before shaking it firmly, giving the detective a self-assured smile. “Ema Skye, forensic investigator.”

Klavier felt a strange sense of foreboding watching the two of them shake hands, especially after they both look at Klavier with the same, smug expression. 

“Ahem! So, Daryan, you're the lead investigator for this case?” Klavier spoke quickly, stepping in between them. 

Daryan nodded, placing his hands on his hips. “That I am. Got all my preliminary notes from Detective Justice, but uh,” He then clicked his tongue and shrugged. “‘Fraid I haven't actually been able to take a proper look through ‘em, so don't expect anything from me, Klav.”

Klavier sighed, shaking his head with a smile. “Of course not. A slacker like always, aren't you, Daryan?”

“Well, that's no issue for Forensic Investigator Skye!” Ema announced, putting on her pink glasses with a flourish before removing her bag and placing it on the floor. “With my equipment, I'm sure we'll get a clear conclusion about the crime scene, even without Trucy’s preliminary notes!”

Klavier and Daryan watched as the teenager pulled out various chemicals, tools and doodads, Daryan growing more and more concerned with every item retrieved from Ema’s endless bag. “Is… Is half this stuff even legal to just carry around?” He whispered to Klavier. 

The other man shrugged. “You're the detective, you tell me.”

“But you're a lawyer— ”

“Come on, fop! It's time to investigate!” Ema called out, putting on a pair of latex gloves with an attitude that can only be described as too giddy for a homicide. 

Without waiting, she gathered her things into her arms and rushed into the dressing room. Klavier gave Daryan another shrug before following the girl inside. 

Ema was visibly upset. 

The three were now standing at the stage, with Klavier and Daryan messing with a mixing board and the teenager sulking at the edge of the stage. 

“Come on, Fraulein,” Klavier tried to reason with her, “Surely you didn't expect to use every single thing you brought? It's a relatively simple crime scene…”

“Of course I didn't!” Ema threw her hands up, “But just luminol?! And all we got from it were a bunch of nonsense numbers!”

“Hey, they're not nonsense,” Daryan replied, having turned his back on the girl, he turned around slightly to address her. “Besides, sometimes all you need to do good investigatin’ is to use your eyes, otherwise how else would we have found this neat little thing?” He raised a baggie with a homemade device inside, resembling a trigger.

“I hope I never become a homicide detective…” She mumbled loud enough for them to hear, earning a chuckle from Klavier and a rolling of eyes from Daryan. 

“Anyway…” Klavier returns his attention to the mixing board, picking up the pair of headphones from the table and holding it to one ear. “I know I'm a little rusty with this kind of thing, but it's not just me, right?” He said to the detective, adjusting one of the sliders on the mixing board.

“Whaddya mean?” Daryan moved to stand in front of the mixer, taking the headphones from Klavier as the latter replaced him on the other side.

“Here.” He moved the sliders to their original positions and reached over to replay the recording. “Tobaye's playing…isn't it a little off?”

“H-Hey!” Ema suddenly exclaimed, once again grabbing the two's attention from the mixing board. 

Daryan clicked his tongue, lowering the headphones. “Maybe bringin’ a teenager to an investigation wasn't a smart move for ya Kla…” He trailed off when his gaze landed somewhere behind Klavier.

Furrowing his brows in confusion, Klavier turned around. His eyes widened at the sight of a tall man, just around his height, with light blonde hair tied at the base of his neck and a bright white mask on his tan complexion. The man draped a blue cloak patterned with constellations over his right arm and looked straight at Klavier with a neutral expression.

“Lamiroir…” Klavier whispered to himself. This was only the second time the two men were face to face. Just like the first time, Klavier felt an overwhelming aura from the masked man, an unmatched presence that demanded to be acknowledged. 

“Hey! Civilians aren't allowed to enter the stadium.” Daryan went straight into detective mode, approaching the masked man in wide strides. “Gonna have to ask ya to leave, sir—”

“I have been given permission by Detective Justice,” Lamiroir spoke in a cold, almost clinical tone that was quite unlike the melodious singing Klavier listened to at the concert. The singer produced a sheet of neatly folded paper and handed it to the detective. “I've come to retrieve an item of mine from the dressing room.”

“B-But it's a crime scene!” Ema protested, approaching the other two. “Whatever you lost in there, it's evidence now!”

“I assure you, the item has nothing to do with the crime,” Lamiroir replied quickly, not even turning to properly address the girl. “Everything you need should be in that document, Detective Crescend.”

Daryan scratched the back of his neck as he read over the paper, frowning “Well, it does look legit…”

“Then, if you'll excuse me—”

“But I'm not lettin’ you in there.” Daryan blocked the singer's path, using his height to his advantage. “Just tell me what it is and I'll be the one to get it for ya.”

Lamiroir paused for a moment before sighing, crossing his arms. “Fine. It's a pink ribbon that I need for my costume. It should be near the door.”

Daryan nodded and began making his way backstage, but not before stopping before Klav. “You keep an eye on him for me, Klav. I'll be back.”

Lamiroir stood in the middle of the stage, almost completely still. The only implication that the man standing wasn't a statue was the impatient tapping of his fingers on his arm as he waited for the detective to return.

Not one to leave an awkward silence hanging in the air, Klavier put on his friendliest smile and approached the singer, ignoring the niggling feeling in the back of his mind that only grew stronger the closer he was.

“So…Are you a composer, Herr Lamiroir?” He asked, standing a safe distance away from the singer.

“Just Lamiroir is fine…and yes. I am,” Lamiroir answered curtly, almost like he was forced to speak out of politeness.

“Ah…So you must've written The Guitar Serenade with Prosecutor Justice? It’s quite the lovely song,” Klavier kept the conversation going nonetheless, now shoving his hands into his pockets.

Ema looked at the two men with a nervous expression. There was a palpable tension between the lawyer and the singer that she couldn't quite place…

“No, I didn't, actually. That song was written by Machi and that drummer. I only helped with the composition of the piano,” Lamiroir replied, now sighing to himself.

Klavier paused. “Clay Terran, you mean…?”

“Yes, yes. That man. The suspect, isn't he?” Lamiroir hummed, but even that didn't sound melodious at all. 

“Clay writes all the songs for Lunacy,” Ema explained, finally finding the opportunity to insert herself into the conversation. “A-And he's innocent!” She then turned to Lamiroir, furrowing her brows.

“Hm. If you say so. It's your job to prove that, yes?” Lamiroir turned to Klavier with a slight upturn of his lip. “You are his lawyer, after all.”

“...That I am,” Klavier replied, feeling a little unsettled from the slight change of expression.

“Here it is,” Daryan spoke up behind them, raising a pink ribbon over his head as he briskly walked towards Lamiroir. “Don't go losing stuff in any more crime scenes, a'ight?”

“Believe me, Detective, I don't plan on it.” Lamiroir turned away from Klavier, stepping forward to take the ribbon from Daryan.

As Daryan held out the ribbon, Klavier managed to get a look at it, flinching at the sense of familiarity it gave. But before he could address it, Lamiroir snatched it from the detective's hand and quickly bunched it up in his fist.

“Thank you. All the best for your investigation,” Lamiroir spoke quickly, giving a nod of his head before walking off the stage towards the exit, drawing the eyes of all three of them. 

“I don't like the feeling I'm gettin’ about ‘im…” Daryan broke the temporary silence that settled on the group as the singer left the building, the other two turning to watch him place his hands on his hips, brows furrowed. “It's like he doesn't belong here.”

“Well… he is from Borginia,” Ema said, but even she couldn't deny the way Lamiroir made her shiver just from being in his presence. 

Klavier was more focused on that ribbon he lost, that feeling that he's seen it somewhere else before—the answer was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't quite place it anywhere in his memory.

He cleared his throat, giving the two yet another smile. “In any case, we better get a move on. We only have so much time before the trial, ja?”

“I wanna look at the crime scene again!” Ema didn't wait for any response before jogging backstage, Daryan quickly chasing after the girl to make sure she didn't do anything too drastic.

Klavier stood alone on the stage, his smile fading as he turned towards the spot where the singer was just standing. Removing one of his hands from his pocket, he watched it shake as he raised it to his eye, a cold sweat forming on his forehead.

Chapter Text

Although it was now his third trial, Klavier still couldn't help the nerves he felt any time he entered the courthouse. Passing the threshold between the outside world and what Kristoph would have called “The Holy Land of the Law” still gave him shivers every time. 

He couldn't help but think about his brother every time he entered, the smile that would spread on his face once they stepped foot into the courthouse. Kris never looked at home anywhere but inside the courtroom— he was truly in his element behind the bench, scrutinizing a witness. 

That was the way Klavier remembered Kristoph; The last time he ever saw his brother, standing calmly at his side as he pressed the witness to testify. Though they were around the same height, the way Kristoph held his head high forced Klavier to look up at him as well, figuratively and literally speaking. If it weren't for him, Klavier would have never pursued law in the first place, and these trials he finished without his brother by his side served to solidify his passion for it.

“Ahem… Earth to Klavier?” Clay waved a hand in front of Klavier's face, the latter blinking in surprise, a smile automatically appearing on his expression. 

“I'm sorry, were you saying something, Clay?” He blinked away the haze that took over him earlier, shaking it out through his fingers. 

“No, you just suddenly spaced out when we got here,” Ema said, appearing behind him with a worried expression, bag clutched tightly in her hands. “You… Alright?” 

Klavier thought that perhaps Ema was remembering the panic attack he had at their last trial, probably worried that it was happening again. So he chuckled, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I feel great, Fraulein. Nothing to worry about.”

“In that case, how was your investigation yesterday?” Clay asked, clasping his hands together as he stepped closer to Klavier. “Did you find anything that could help?”

“Well…we certainly found relevant evidence but we won't know just how they're relevant until the trial actually starts,” Ema replied, crossing her arms. 

Klavier waved a hand dismissively before placing it on Clay's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “But no worries, we'll find a way to make them point to your innocence—you are innocent after all, right?”

Clay nodded slowly, eyes falling to the floor. “Yeah… Yeah, sorry. I guess I'm just kinda nervous,” he said. He rubbed his arm while glancing at the doors that would lead into the courtroom. 

“Is it because the prosecutor is…?” Ema frowned, following Clay's gaze. 

“I'm sure he has his reasons!” He took on a lighter tone, forcing a smile as he turned back to the other two. “I-I trust him… He wouldn't do it if he didn't have a plan…”

Before Klavier could give another reassuring remark, the bailiff spoke up: “Defense, the trial will begin shortly! Please make your way inside the courtroom.”

Klavier took a deep breath in, shaking his hands out. “Here goes nothing, then. Shall we rock, Herr Terran?” He grinned at his client, who gave his own toothy smile. 

“Let's rock, Mr. Gavin!”

Ema let out a groan.

“Court is in session for the trial of Clay Terran!” The judge banged his gavel against the podium, silencing the overflowing gallery. Since the news came out about Clay's arrest, journalists and fans alike had gathered outside the courtroom since early in the morning. Klavier shivered as he remembered the way those fans attempted to grab at him, begging him to prove their favorite drummer innocent. He had almost forgotten all that had happened, overwhelmed by the memory of his brother. 

But seeing them again now, Klavier can't help but wonder why Apollo didn't request for a private hearing.

“I must say Prosecutor Justice…” The judge addressed the man on the other bench, stroking his beard. “From what I understand from my granddaughter, isn't the defendant your friend? Why prosecute a public hearing?” 

Klavier looked at the prosecutor, once again shedding his rockstar persona for his more serious prosecutor one as he crossed his arms. “... Rest assured, I have my reasons, Your Honor,” he said, glancing briefly at Clay sitting on the defendant’s bench. 

“But surely you don't truly believe his guilt?” The judge continued to be skeptical, raising one bushy brow. 

“My relationship to the defendant will not affect my performance in the courtroom—The prosecution is and will always be ready to perform its duty,” Apollo said, loud and determined as he looked up at the judge with steely resolve. 

“Poor Clay…” Ema spoke up from Klavier's side, furrowing her brows at Apollo. As a fan of the band, there's no doubt that her feelings were complicated when it came to the situation. Although she knew that Apollo believed in Clay's innocence (hence why he approached them personally in the first place), Klavier supposed there was still a part of her that was worried about whatever Lunacy’s frontman had planned for them. 

“... Hm… Very well, then…” The judge modded solemnly, though a hint of disbelief could still be heard. “And the defense? What are your opinions on this, Mr. Gavin?”

Klavier inhaled sharply, immediately feeling the eyes of dozens of people on him immediately. He had to give it all this trial—If not for Clay's sake, then for his own reputation as a lawyer!

“The defense has no objections to Prosecutor Justice’s role in the proceedings,” Klavier answered, a slight smile appearing on his face. “We believe that there will still be a fair and just trial, and are ready for anything and everything the prosecution will assert.” Klavier felt  possessed by a confidence that only came over him within the courtroom. Perhaps it was his previous reflection on Kristoph, but he felt more comfortable standing behind the defense bench. 

He turned back to Apollo, who looked at him with something akin to gratitude, his eyes softer than what Klavier was used to. He couldn’t help but turn away, his cheeks warm as he tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear.

“I see…” The judge hummed. “Well, if the defense has no objection, then I suppose I see no reason not to proceed.” Another bang of the gavel signified the start of the trial. Klavier shifted in his stance; It was time to get serious. “Let’s try to make this a quick trial, I still need to visit the hospital after this trial…Prosecutor Justice, your opening statements, please.”

Apollo nodded, picking up a sheet of paper in his manila folder. “The victim is Romein LeTouse, age 35 and global manager of singer-songwriter duo, Lamiroir and Machi Tobaye. Cause of death: external blood loss after being shot by a .45-caliber pistol; All the information is here in the autopsy report.” 

He then handed an envelope to the bailiff, who passed it to the judge. “.45…That’s quite large, isn’t it?” The judge grimaced as he put the report back into its envelope. “A direct hit from that could knock a man off his feet.”

The bailiff then handed the envelope to Klavier, who quickly read over the report, leaning slightly to allow Ema to see it too.

Apollo nodded at the judge’s comment. “The gun was shot twice: One bullet missed, and the other sadly found its target in LeTouse’s shoulder. Death was not immediate, but he lost blood too quickly, which is why he couldn’t be saved.” The prosecutor submitted two more things to the record: a diagram indicating where the two bullets hit and a picture of LeTouse’s body.

“How heavy is a .45, Klav?” Ema asked, taking the picture of LeTouse to look at.

Klavier placed a hand on his chin. “Hmm…I suppose I can put it this way: If someone of your size and experience wielded it, a shot could probably shatter every bone in your body.”

“O-oh…” Ema grimaced, slowly putting the picture down. 

“The body was found backstage, in Lamiroir’s dressing room,” Apollo continued, now crossing his arms. “There is only one visible door to the room—which was locked, as witnesses can attest to.”

“That would be us, then?” Klavier clarified, earning a nod from Apollo.

“But if the only entrance was locked, how did the killer get away?” The judge frowned, stroking his beard.

Apollo then shook his head. “I didn’t say it was the only entrance, Your Honor. There was one other way to enter and exit the dressing room, which is right…” He raised the diagram for the courtroom to see, pointing to a spot to the left of the body. “Here.”

The judge squinted, raising an eyebrow. “I…I’m sorry, Mr. Justice, I’m afraid you lost me…”

“From what I remember, Prosecutor Justice,” Klavier began, crossing his own arms. “There isn’t another door in that area of the room.”

“Well that’s the thing,” Apollo replied, smiling. “There’s actually a secret entrance that leads into the adjacent dressing room.”

Klavier paled. This wasn’t good.

“The prosecution would like to call its first witness, the lead investigator for this case: Detective Daryan Crescend.” Apollo spoke louder, more confident as he finished his opening statements.

The judge nodded. “Very well. Bring the witness to the stand!”

As the bailiff prepared to escort Daryan into the courtroom, Klavier took the moment to clear his throat and straighten his blazer. Now the battle was about to begin, and if Apollo’s smirk on the other side of the courtroom was anything to go by, it was gonna be quite a bloody one.

Chapter Text

There wasn’t much that could be picked out of Daryan’s testimony. Given it was essentially the detective’s case notes, that usually wouldn’t be a problem. 

But the fact that there was a second entrance into the room that nobody but the performers knew of? Klavier couldn’t help but feel like he’d been caged in. He pressed every point he could, looking for any thread he could pull to unravel this mystery, but he had to admit; Apollo knew how to cover every side of his argument.

Glancing over at the defendant’s bench, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for Clay, nervously wringing his hands as he kept his eyes on his best friend. Klavier could only imagine what he felt, watching the person he trusted most in his life to be actively advocating for his imprisonment.

“It seems like you’ll be able to get to the hospital sooner than expected, Your Honor,” Apollo said, crossing his arms. “The case is quite cut and dry—there’s nothing the defense could possibly suggest that isn’t contradictory to the facts.”

“Hmm…It certainly seems so. Well, then I suppose we can move onto the verdict—”

“H-Hold on, Your Honor!” Klavier interjected, furrowing his brows. “Why in such a rush?”  He was aware he was merely stalling for time; Next to him, Ema was looking through the court record again, looking for a single thing they could press Daryan on.

“Well…The Chief Justice’s son is in critical condition. I thought it would only be polite to pay a visit to him,” The judge replied, brushing his beard idly. “I heard it was quite the nasty disease…I suppose you wouldn’t know an appropriate greeting when I get there?”

Klavier glanced over at Apollo. He was waiting for him to object at any point, call this idle conversation a waste of time. But instead, the other man was looking intently at Klavier with furrowed brows, squeezing his arm. 

Was he depending on him to find something to continue this trial as well? If so, then why did he have to have such an ironclad testimony on his side?!

Then, a moment of clarity shot through Klavier’s mind like a bullet, his eyes widening in realization. “A-Ah! That’s it!”

“‘That’s it’? Well, that’s not a greeting at all—”

“No! Sorry, Your Honor, we can continue this conversation another time. The defense would like to call a witness!” Klavier slammed his hands on the bench, looking straight at Apollo. 

The prosecutor raised his eyebrow, but there was not the usual hint of hostility in his eyes. Instead, there was curiosity, perhaps even intrigue.

“A-A witness? I thought there were no witnesses to the crime itself?” The judge addressed Daryan, who Klavier nearly forgot was still standing at the witness stand.

The detective blinked at Klavier, confused as he scratched the back of his neck. “Well…yeah, there shouldn’t be any witnesses at all,” he replied. “Both doors were closed, there were no windows…”

“But there was one!” Klavier insisted, now properly facing Daryan, leaning on the bench. “Daryan, you remember don’t you?”

“E-Eh? Me?!”

“Yes! Yesterday, during our investigation?” Klavier continued to press. Behind him, Ema gasped. It seemed she too had come to the same realization.

“T-That’s right!” She exclaimed, slamming her own hands onto the bench as she looked at Daryan. “Detective! There’s still a potential witness besides us!”

“Ah? W-Who?!” Daryan seemed flustered at the sudden yelling, furrowing his brows. “I got no  other witnesses’ names in my case notes!”

“Think back to LeTouse’s last words,” Klavier then addressed the courtroom, but particularly to Apollo. “Fraulein, you were there too, no?”

“Last words?” The judge pulled back in surprise. “Well, if there were last words then you must tell us at once, defense!”

Klavier nodded. “Of course, Your Honor.” He cleared his throat as he called to mind the words of the dead man. “His last words were: ‘The witness is… Siren.’”

There was a lull in the courtroom as the words settled in before murmuring began to erupt from the gallery.

The judge, however, seemed confused as he shifted through the papers on his bench. “‘Siren’? There doesn’t seem to be anyone named ‘Siren’ in the record…”

“That’s because ‘Siren’ is not a name, but a title,” Apollo explained, furrowing his brows. “Namely, the title of the singer the manager was tasked to watch: Lamiroir, the Siren of the Ballad.”

“Exactly,” Klavier said. “The defense wishes to summon Lamiroir to testify to his witnessing of the crime!”

“Objection!” Apollo exclaimed, his finger shooting out like a gun. “There is no evidence that Lamiroir could have possibly witnessed the crime. There is no reason to call him to the stand!”

“Objection!” Klavier quickly countered, his own finger in the air. “There is evidence, and the defense calls the detective to bring it out!”

“What?!” Daryan whipped his head around towards Klavier. “Klav, are you jokin’?! What the hell could I possibly have?!”

“You have the document, don’t you, detective!?” Ema pressed, “The one you received yesterday, from Lamiroir!”

“Document…?” The detective leaned forward slightly, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought to himself. His eyes wandered upwards before widening, his stance immediately straightening. “Ah! You mean…? But—!”

“Detective! If you have evidence that may suggest there was a witness to the crime, then you must bring it out immediately!” The judge banged his gavel against the bench, furrowing his own bushy brows.

“I dunno, man.” Daryan fumbled around his leather jacket before pulling out a folded sheet of paper. “This doesn’t exactly mean he was there…” He handed the paper to the bailiff, who in turn gave it to the judge.

The judge unfolded the paper and read it out loud: “Lamiroir is fully authorized to retrieve an item from the crime scene…Signed by Detective Trucy Justice.”

At the mention of his sister’s name, Apollo visibly tensed, furrowing his brows. “I wasn’t made aware of this.”

“Lamiroir approached us yesterday while we were investigating the crime scene, stating that he had lost something the night of the murder,” Klavier explained. 

“But isn’t that his dressing room?” The judge furrowed his brows. “Perhaps he simply forgot to retrieve something before being escorted out.”

“We won’t know for sure until we call him as a witness,” Klavier pressed, glancing over at Apollo to see if he would raise an objection. But it seemed like the prosecutor seemed more concerned about his sister’s actions than the trial at hand.

The judge hummed. “I suppose if the prosecution has no objection?” 

Snapped out of his thoughts, Apollo blinked at the judge before realizing he was being addressed. “Ah—! No objections, Your Honor. The prosecution can have the witness subpoenaed immediately.”

“Very well, then. Court will adjourn for 10 minutes!”

“That was a close one,” Ema remarked as they returned to the defendant’s lobby, clutching her bag tightly. 

“Tell me about it!” Clay chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. “I was sweating a river back there, haha! I don’t know how you lawyers do it.”

“With how much of a fight he was putting up, you would think that Prosecutor Justice wanted to have you arrested…” Ema frowned, glancing behind her shoulder towards the courtroom. “He really wasn’t leaving us any openings. It’s a good thing you remembered about Lamiroir, Klav!”

The defense attorney sitting on the sofa gave no response, wringing his hands together and absorbed in his own thoughts. His nerves were firing up again, but he knew these weren’t the same jitters he felt during his courtroom debut. It was a sense of dread that crawled beneath his skin, a premonition that whatever comes next would change a lot of things, and not just in terms of this particular case. 

Ema came forward and rubbed a finger against the knot that was forming between his brows. “Hello? You here with us, Klav?” She said, a tinge of concern beneath her words.

Klavier blinked rapidly, a smile automatically forming on his expression as he returned to the present moment. “ Entschuldigung , did you say something?”

“Is something bothering you, Klavier? Clay asked, looking worried. “Is it something about the case? You’re making me a little nervous here, haha…”

“My apologies, Clay,” Klavier replied, standing up and straightening his blazer. “There’s nothing for you to worry about, really. I’m just…wary of our witness.”

“You’ve been acting weird since we got here, Klav,” Ema said. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, and what about Lamiroir?” Clay followed up, placing his hands on his hips. “He seemed like a pretty cool guy behind the scenes.”

Klavier pursed his lips, shoving his hands into his pockets as he furrowed his brows again. “I don’t know. There’s just…something about him that bothers me, and I’m not sure what it is.”

“I mean, he was pretty suspicious yesterday when he came to the stadium.” Ema shrugged, “Do you think that…maybe he did it?”

A heavy atmosphere fell on the trio as the possibility was raised, Klavier raising a hand to his chin in thought. “It’s certainly possible, but we won’t know until we see him in court.”

Clay gave a visible shiver, looking worriedly at the door. “The idea that someone I worked with could be a murderer is freaking me out, man,” he said. “And if it really is Lamiroir, then I’m scared to know what he could gain from trying to frame me.”

“Well, whatever happens out there,” Ema began, gently taking Clay’s hand and squeezing. “We’ll be there to bear it with you, so don’t worry, Clay!”

Klavier nodded. “And if it gives you any comfort, the important thing is that you’re safe here, with us. I’m sure Prosecutor Justice wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

Slowly, Clay breathed in and out, shaking his head before giving his own smile to the pair. “You’re right, I just gotta put my trust in you guys. At least with you and ‘Pollo out there, I think I’ll be able to handle the truth.”

“Defense! Recess is over, proceed to the courtroom immediately!” The bailiff called out into the lobby, and the trio shared one last look together. 

Klaiver steeled himself for what was to come, hoping that if his premonition were true, that it wouldn’t be too terrible for them to bear. Nonetheless, what mattered here and now is that he had to prove Clay’s innocence, and if that meant extracting the truth from the Siren himself, then he would be damned to let his song escape his ears.

Chapter Text

Apollo couldn’t help but feel a shiver run down his spine as Lamiroir took his place behind the witness stand.

Despite sharing a stage with the man, he couldn’t help but still feel intimidated by his presence. He never got to interact with Lamiroir beyond their rehearsals, and even then he wasn’t exactly the kind of person who was up for a casual chat. He had the kind of aura that sucked everyone around him in, including, apparently, his sister. 

Anything that needed to be discussed between the soloist and the band was directed to Trucy, which still struck Apollo as odd. He didn’t understand why she insisted on handling all the matters with the mysterious singer to such a degree, and when he tried to press her about it, all he got was a numb hand and zero answers.

He shook his head — why was he thinking about this now? He usually didn’t let his mind wander during trials, and yet here he was, letting it drift to his sister’s odd (well, more odd than usual) behavior. With a sigh, he forced himself to focus on the matter at hand, that being the tall blonde on the witness stand looking stoic and aloof as always.

“Witness, if you could introduce yourself to the court,” he ordered him, placing a steadying hand on the bench.

Lamiroir gave him a look, a quick glance that made him freeze up, before speaking: “Lamiroir. Singer.”

“Excuse me if this is crass but…” The judge began, looking down at the witness, “Do you understand English?”

“I do,” Lamiroir replied curtly, crossing his arms. “Though, I’m afraid I don’t know how I came across such knowledge of your language.”

“What do you mean?” Gavin, on the other side of the courtroom, asked. Apollo’s bracelet tightened quite a bit when he cast his eyes over to his learned friend. It seemed he wasn’t not the only one who felt tense around the singer.

“I have amnesia,” the other replied, looking down slightly. “I don’t remember my real name, or how I came to singing…performing has been my whole existence as I know it.”

“Which is precisely why I hesitated to call him to the stand,” Apollo interjected, crossing his arms. That…and this guy just creeps me out.

“I’m sure your amnesia won’t affect today’s proceedings,” Gavin replied with a smile. “Nor your recollection of the night of the crime, which I have reason to believe you witnessed.”

“I’m afraid I witnessed no crime, Mr. Gavin,” Lamiroir said, “I confess, I’m a little confused as to why I was called to court. Yes, I was backstage when everything happened, but I was nowhere near the scene of the crime.”

“Yet, the victim named you specifically, Herr Lamiroir,” Gavin retorted quickly, furrowing his brows. “Do you have any idea why?”

“Perhaps he saw me as I passed by the room,” the other replied just as fast, “But I swear to you, I did not even glance inside — it would be inappropriate, after all.”

“...Is that so?”

There was a brief pause between the rapid exchange between lawyer and witness, leaving Apollo a little frazzled. He didn’t know Lamiroir enough to judge, but the fact that he could easily keep up with a lawyer like Gavin was…terrifying. He, alongside the entire courtroom, hung onto their every word, wondering what it was that Gavin latched onto.

“...If you have something to say,” Lamiroir broke the silence, tilting his head slightly. “We are all waiting to hear it.”

Another pause. Apollo looked to Gavin, lips pressed into a thin line as the tension grew. His bracelet kneaded into his wrist as he watched the lawyer fiddle with his hair before smiling. “My apologies,” he began, “It’s just that I recall that you had asked Detective Justice to give you permission to retrieve something you lost in the dressing room, so now I’m wondering why you say you were ‘nowhere near the scene of the crime’ when we all know this to be true?” 

He raised the permission slip that Trucy had signed, which Apollo had nearly forgotten about. Jesus, what’s going on with me? He frowned, raising a hand to his head. It really wasn’t like him to be distracted like this — was it because this case was so close to him personally? 

Distracted by his own thoughts, he could only perceive the tension in Lamiroir’s stance from the corner of his eye. 

“Lamiroir,” the judge spoke, banging his gavel once again. “Your formal testimony, please!”

Keep yourself together, Apollo. He thought to himself, slapping both his cheeks and returning his gaze fully on the man on the stand. You have a job to do.

Lamiroir confessed that yes, he did step foot into the dressing room briefly. “But that was after the crime had already been committed…I believe you may recall this?” He turned towards Gavin again, who frowned in thought.

“We did hear someone open and close the door,” Ema spoke up, furrowing her brows. “But there’s no way you lost your ribbon then — we would’ve noticed!”

“Over the presence of a corpse in the room? I doubt that.” Lamiroir shook his head. 

“If that was really you entering the room when we discovered the body, then testify as to what you saw.” Gavin didn’t let up, now it was his turn to cross his arms as he stared the witness down. Apollo couldn’t help but see an uncanny similarity in their stances.

The judge made the order official, and Lamiroir sighed. Apollo’s bracelet twitched, and he frowned, looking down at it. He squinted at the witness — what exactly was he trying to hide?

“Well, of course I saw poor Mr. LeTouse,” he began, shaking his head. “Taken by his own weapon…what a terrible way to go.”

Both lawyers perked up at this statement, the two of them glancing at each other as they came to the same realization.

“You knew he was shot?” Gavin pressed, raising an eyebrow. 

“Anyone could infer that from seeing the bullet holes in the wall, Mr. Gavin.”

“But that’s impossible,” Apollo couldn’t help but speak up as he turned the crime scene in his head. 

Lamiroir visibly perked up as the prosecutor spoke. “Helping your opposition, Prosecutor Justice?”

“It’s not about helping anyone, it’s about getting to the truth,” he replied, frowning. In the corner of his eye, he could see Gavin watching him, and he willed the blood from rushing to his cheeks.

“Then pray tell, why do you say it’s impossible?” 

“Well, first of all, I put a gag order on the witnesses,” Apollo answered, nodding towards Gavin and Ema. “Nobody but them and the police know about the details of the crime.”

“And if you really went in and out as quickly as you said you did,” Gavin continued, “Then there’s no way you would have seen the bullet holes in the wall — they were on the same wall as the door, after all.”

The courtroom began to murmur as both defense and prosecution worked together against the witness. Apollo couldn’t help another glance at the opposition, who smiled warmly at him. He quickly looked away, biting the inside of his cheeks.

The judge brought the court back to order with yet another bang of his gavel. “Lamiroir, explain this contradiction!” He said, “No more lies — the court demands the full truth!”

“...The full truth, you say…” Lamiroir spoke, turning his head away. He caught Apollo’s gaze, the two of them locking eyes for just a moment.  “I apologize. I was just trying to be considerate of those present.”

Another shiver down his spine.

“This court has no room for feelings,” Apollo replied, ignoring the bad feeling that loomed over his shoulder. “If you have information that will help us unravel this case, then you absolutely need to tell us.”

For a moment, Apollo thought he spotted a smile on Lamiroir’s face.

“Very well. Allow me to amend my testimony,” he said, bowing his head slightly.

“Please do.” The judge nodded.

The courtroom collectively held their breath, watching Lamiroir pull his cloak further down his face. Apollo himself began to fidget with his bracelet as he waited for his amended statement, premonition still hanging over him like a shadow. He glanced at Gavin, who was pursing his lips as he stared down the witness, Apollo’s bracelet twitching on his wrist as the other messed with cuffs of his jacket.

“I admit: I did not actually see the holes in the wall,” he finally confessed, crossing his arms. “But I knew that Mr. LeTouse had been shot because I, too, heard the gunshots.”

Apollo’s bracelet was still; it seemed he was telling the truth.

“But it was not the only thing I heard.”

The air crackled with tension. Apollo could hear everyone leaning forward in their seats, including the judge, who watched Lamiroir slack-jawed. The only other person besides Apollo who didn’t seem to be excited to hear what he would say next was Gavin, who went from nervously adjusting his cuffs to clutching his fists against the bench, his brows knitted tightly together.

“Yes, I remember…Right before the gunshots…I heard a voice.”

“A-A voice?!” The judge exclaimed, the courtroom beginning to murmur their reactions. “Witness, why would you conceal this?! This is vital information — who did you hear?!”

“I could recognize that voice anywhere. After all, I heard it so many times over the course of my stay here in the States…”

…No. Apollo’s eyes widened, his blood running cold as he connected the dots in his head. His head began to spin, his mouth drying as he stared at Lamiroir in disbelief. No, it can’t be…! He gritted his teeth, his hands tightening into a fist before he slammed the bench, his entire body shaking in rage. “Witness!” He yelled, unable to hold himself back, “Lying on the stand is a crime—!”

“I’m afraid I’m not lying, Prosecutor Justice,” Lamiroir responded quickly, one eye looking at the prosecutor from beneath his hood. “This is why I did not want to reveal this information. I knew you would react this way — I was merely trying to be considerate of your feelings.”

“Herr Lamiroir, you’re not saying…” Gavin spoke up from behind a hand as he clutched his chin, even more lines forming on his forehead as he looked between both witness and prosecutor; It seemed he had realized who was being implicated as well. Beside him, his assistant had paled, clutching her shoulder bag tightly, tears forming in her eyes.

The witness only nodded, “Yes…The voice I heard…it could be no other than Detective Justice!”