Author's Note: Well, hello, everyone. I guess I'm actually writing this. Welcome aboard.

Major spoilers for Phoenix Wright: Ace Tribute lie ahead. It's more of a tie-in than a sequel, seeing as it's not quite in the same whodunnit vein as its predecessor, since it's a little hard to keep up the same act with the main cast out of the picture. Same rules as the first story otherwise.

As you may have guessed, most of the characters this time around are from Trials and Tribulations, but with a few from Justice For All.

I do hope you'll enjoy.

I can't see the man's face in the low, flickering light. There's only a silhouette with a thin, glowing border. I recognize that he's bald—and then I realize I know his voice.

"What you must understand—" he folds his hands under his chin—"is that your Games did not exist."

The Games... weren't real...? Can I believe that? But if it's him... how could I not...?

"You are alive."

I'm not sure how I got here, but I must be safe if he's with me.

He falls silent for a minute before looking down. "You'll have to talk to some government workers first. They'll see you in a moment. And then—then we will be able to go home." He stands, offering me a hand. "All right, Violetta?"

Realizing I'm seated, I reach for him. "All right..."

"You're wearing that old dress again?"

I smooth out the long sleeve before dropping my arms. "Yes... It's my favorite, after all..."

Grandpa chuckles, rubbing the shoulder of the brown fabric. "It's hard to argue with that. Are you ready to go? Your brother's in the car."

"Ah—" I grip my elbow. "Actually... I should probably check my hair..."

"All right. You still have a couple minutes."

I nod and drift to my bathroom. Mirrors line the wall, but I only need one at the moment. It's just reaping day, not a celebration. I'll spend plenty of time getting ready for the dinner tonight, so there's no need to pretty up everything now.

The bandages are pushing my hair up again. As tight as they're wrapped around my skull, I can still pull my hair down and back beneath it if I'm careful. It'll be a mess again in a few hours, I know. I'm not sure when I'll be able to take these off, but I suppose I'm grateful they're there.

If they weren't, I'd still be dead.

I sprinkle some water on my bangs to kill the static. I look presentable now, I think. I'll just straighten out my bow a bit, and then I'll be ready to go.

The fifteen-year-old section is crowded, but I'm given a wide berth. Nothing unusual. Those who... work... for us may be confined to the sidelines, but they'd still see if anyone here wronged me somehow. That teen's family wouldn't be celebrating tonight... Hee... Hee... Hee...

I still doubt much could happen to me at a reaping. Besides the event itself, at least. My name shouldn't be picked, though. We certainly don't have any tessarae slips, so there's really no danger until I'm eighteen. Even then I doubt I would be in trouble. There are too many people protective me for me to get into any trouble. I... can't get into other things, like friendships... but that's all right. I still have my grandpa, and my brother, and even everyone who works for us. Although the guards don't like to chat much.

The escort comes onstage, and the usual antics begin. I don't pay much attention to the words. It's more entertaining to watch the kids around me. Some of the eyes glaze in boredom, some dilate in fear, and others flick back and forth, unsure exactly how nervous they should be.

After announcing that the boy's name is about to be drawn, he waits for a minute. I clap a few times, but that's far from enough cheer to satiate him. Growling at our lack of respect, he hurls seeds at the reaping crowd until at least everyone within his range starts clapping. He sniffs before nodding and walking to the bowl of names.

"Mister—how the heck do you pronounce this? In my day, men were given names you could actually say—" He cuts off as an assistant gives him a throat-cutting motion. "Hmph. Well, the chosen one is something that sounds like... Furio Tigre."

"What?!" The eighteen-year-old replying sounds more angry than shocked. I can hear his low growl from here as the few closest to him press themselves against the rest of the crowd. Gravel scrapes as a man with spikes of black hair and a well-tailored orange suit charges for the stage. He stomps right up to the escort, who scowls up at him.

Furio snarls at him before snatching the piece of paper from his hand. Without a second look at the thing, he rips it to pieces that he throws to the ground and spits on.

He jerks his head at the escort. "Youse wanna tell me what I'm doin' up here? 'Cause I don't see nothin' that says I got reaped."

The escort growls a little himself. "Do you think you're going to get out of this with a cheap trick like that, boy?" He rubs his nose. "Just for that, I'm not calling for vol—!"

Furio interrupts with a thundering roar. Some among the crowd cover their ears, but I'm not quick enough. The best I can do is grip my elbow harder until the sound fades.

Once my mind surfaces from the fright, I can't help but think the tiger stitched across the front of his suit matches him perfectly.

The Tiger... He's not...?

The silence of the reaping field presses in until the escort looks out at us. He blinks a few times. "Um, are there any volunteers?"

Furio glares out at the crowd, but no one stirs. I doubt he meant to freeze us all to the spot, but we haven't had any volunteers in this district, anyway. And he looks more than big enough to fight for himself. No matter how he looks at us, no one is going to step up.

"Okay." Giving him a wise berth, the escort walks over to the girls' bowl with a lot less fuss and pulls out a slip. "And your female tribute this year is... Viola Cadaverini."

That's my name...

I look around for someone to start walking up to the stage, but everyone's just staring at me.

This isn't right... He read the slip... Where's the tribute...?

I wobble for another moment before the pieces click together. With an inhale, I take a step forward and then another. He called my name, so I have to walk onstage. That's how it works. All I have to do is walk onstage...

I climb the steps and stand on the escort's right. On the other side, Furio has gone silent. I can feel him looking at me, but he turns away sweating every time I glance his way.

"Volunteers?" The escort rubs his nose.

I scan the eyes in the crowd. A few are looking away. Some stare blankly. Some get teary with relief. I don't see any indecision. Anyone considering volunteering.

My gaze strays from the teenage crowd to the sidelines. A few of the adults look around in confusion. Most have their eyes half-closed in relief.

One has his eyes open wide, trembling like the rest of him.

Grandpa... scared...?

Y-yes...

He's scared... for me...

I'm in danger...

I cover my mouth as the tears start to gather. I've been reaped... I've been reaped... No one's volunteering... No...! I-I'm too weak...! Someone help... Help me...

Shaking, I manage not to lock my knees as the escort ends his call for volunteers. He inspects my dress, frowns, and turns back to the crowd without another glance at Furio.

"I present your tributes for the Fifteenth Annual Hunger Games." He sniffs and takes a step back. "I'll lead you to the Justice Building now."

"The Tiger don't take orders," Furio snarls before charging off. Two Peacekeepers lunge for him, one at each arm. He roars, but he can only yank his arm up once before the Peacekeeper on that side wrenches his shoulder around and locks it. Furio keeps growling, unable to suppress a wince of pain, but he walks along with the two towards the Justice Building.

I just stumble behind the escort.

The guard has just stationed himself at the door before Grandpa swoops in and embraces me. He has no advice, no admonitions, no reassurance. He just holds me, strokes my hair, and mumbles "piccina" over and over. I bury my face in his shoulder and hug him back. It's all either of us can do. What can we say...? I can't fight... I can't survive... I don't have the strength... in any sense. And a few words right now won't change that.

But at least we do have right now... One more moment together... At least there's this much...

Grandpa pulls away, and I start to feel cold. My eyes don't open until he pushes my bangs away with warm fingers and kisses my forehead. I don't see his face before he turns around and leaves. The guard, who hasn't budged until now, gives him a nod as he passes outside. And then I'm left alone.

Why... did he leave? There's still time, isn't there...? Usually the Peacekeepers... have to drag the family away... You can hear them fighting as you leave the town square... What else would Grandpa want to be doing...?

Maybe he's just confused... I know I am...

I stare at the door for a least a minute before my brother comes in.

"Viola." He exhales as he sits on the couch next to me.

"Celio..." I watch him, but he continues to fix his gaze on the door.

"I'll try not to say too much we already know. Just remember that crazy things can happen in that arena. The only thing that you can do is refuse to give up. And, uh..." He leans forward a bit, peering further out the door. "Try to stick with your district partner. I have a feeling you'll get along pretty well."

I grip my elbow. "You... think so...?"

Furio... seems like... an interesting person, certainly. And he looks strong... I'm not sure... why he'd want to associate with me, in this kind of situation...

My brother nods. "So stick with him, all right? There's nothing the rest of us can do now but donate some cash. It's up to you where things go from there." Pressing his palms on his knees, he pushes himself to his feet.

"I... understand."

He finally meets my gaze for a second before turning around. His eyes...

"Goodbye, Viola. Good luck."

"G... Goodbye..."

He walks out the door. The guard only allows me a few more moments to myself before pulling me to my feet roughly and leading me out.

My brother seemed conflicted... He was definitely upset... sad... but... there was a flicker of anticipation behind his eyes... somehow...

I... I know he's jealous of me... Afraid Grandpa would rather pass the reigns to me that him... but... would he really...

Would he really... be all right with me dying...?

My thoughts are frozen again by that roar. But the Peacekeeper beside me is still pushing me along, and I end up stumbling ahead.

"Get outta my face!" I recognize Furio's snarl even while my eyes are unfocused. He's beside me now, I think... trying to shoo the cameras away.

Maybe that's not the right way to phrase it... when he's so successful...

Although my ears are still ringing, I'm glad to have him next to me... Even in something this small... he's keeping others away from me, in a way...

Will we really make friends...?

I only catch his eye for a moment. Sweating, he just turns back to the distant cameras and growls.