Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.
Constructive criticism is welcome.
"And you, Klavier? What do you want to be when you grow up?" Kristoph walked into the preschool just in time to hear the teacher address his four-year-old baby brother.
Klavier grinned cheekily and declared without hesitation, "I wan' be Kristoph!"
Kristoph cringed from the doorway. Lately Klavier had been obsessed with imitating him, much to his irritation and embarrassment. His friends thought it was cute and told him he should be flattered, but... Kristoph supposed it was just a phase Klavier was going through. He hoped.
--
"Kristoph, help me with my homework?"
Kristoph looked up from his own homework and sighed. "I'm not going to write it for you, if that's what you mean."
"No! I just... don't get it." Kristoph doubted that. Klavier was an extraordinarily bright third-grader, and Kristoph was considering having him skip a grade.
"All right, let me see..." Kristoph patted his leg. Klavier happily climbed onto his lap, and Kristoph hid a smile as his little brother effortlessly completed his assignment with no help at all.
--
Kristoph sometimes worried about his little brother. Was it healthy for Klavier to be so attached to Kristoph? The boy was nearly thirteen years old; shouldn't he be developing a sense of identity and independence right about now?
For a while now, Kristoph had been intending to sit his brother down for a serious talk about his future. Klavier would soon be going into high school; Kristoph hoped that he would be able to find his own path rather than blindly retrace Kristoph's footsteps. Kristoph was well aware that such a talk could drastically change his relationship with Klavier, but he knew that it was necessary in order for Klavier to grow up. But when Klavier greeted him after school each day with a huge smile and a warm hug, Kristoph would close his eyes and think, maybe it'd be all right if this lasted just a little longer.
--
A month after Klavier's first court case, Kristoph noticed that he had stopped cutting his hair. Kristoph supposed he was trying to cultivate a wild rock-star image. Although he didn't approve at all of his brother's music, truth be told, he was proud of Klavier. He thought back to an argument they had seven years ago. Klavier had gotten it into his head that he would become a lawyer, and an exasperated Kristoph had been convinced that this was only because Kristoph himself was going to law school.
Ah, he was wrong then. Klavier's choice was almost certainly influenced by Kristoph's, but he truly cared about finding the truth and making sure criminals were brought to justice. He was brilliant at it, too. In fact, Kristoph wasn't at all sure if he could have won that case, with or without forged evidence, if he had been the one facing Klavier.
--
One morning, Kristoph found Klavier attempting to curl his hair into a point. He froze, staring.
"What are you doing?" asked Kristoph, perhaps a little too coldly.
"I'm putting my hair like yours, what's it look like?"
"Don't do that."
"Why not? I like it."
"I said don't do it."
"Chill out, Kristoph, why do you care?"
Kristoph drew in a deep breath, then exhaled loudly. Was he being unreasonable? He couldn't tell. "My apologies, Klavier. I overreacted due to the surprise of seeing you mimic my hairstyle." He turned to leave. "Cut your hair."
Klavier seized his shoulder. "I'm not a kid anymore. Don't tell me what to do," he seethed. "I'll wear my hair however I want."
"Forget the hair! Just- Stop copying me!" All Kristoph could see was his clever, idealistic, passionate little brother becoming a perfect mirror image of him, perfect down to the lies, hypocrisy, and bitterness.
"They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, my dear brother. Why should I?"
"Because I don't want you to turn out like me!"
Klavier stared at Kristoph, and Kristoph read in his face all the questions that Klavier knew better than to ask.
"No worries, Kristoph," said Klavier, with a false cheerfulness. "I'd die before I became an overbearing control freak like you!"
Klavier spent the rest of the day at Daryan's house. The next day, he moved out.
--
He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something about Apollo Justice that put Kristoph profoundly at ease. It made no sense whatsoever, seeing as more often than not, the boy was getting himself into trouble. (Kristoph kept thinking of him as a boy, even though - or maybe because - he was around the same age as Klavier.)
He had good instincts, that much was obvious. Kristoph had long since learned to pay attention when Apollo said that "he had a feeling" that someone wasn't telling the whole truth. But that wasn't quite it.
He was kind and compassionate. Kristoph once watched from a window as Apollo helped an elderly client to her car. Who did that anymore, besides people being paid for it? But that wasn't it, either.
He was enthusiastic, oh yes. And loud. Every morning, Apollo was at the office before Kristoph arrived, and there would be a hot cup of coffee on his desk. His daily "Good morning, Mr. Gavin!" rattled the windows and would have made Kristoph wince if he hadn't spent years listening to Klavier's band practice in the garage. No, that definitely wasn't it.
True to his name, he cared strongly about right and wrong. More than once, he had talked Kristoph into losing a case on purpose, because they knew their client was guilty.
And finally, he was unwaveringly loyal. He seemed to be convinced that Kristoph was the authority on law, and held Kristoph's opinions as fact.
Whatever it was, it made Kristoph feel... at peace with the world, something he had no right to feel. Every time Apollo came to him, sheepishly asking for help sorting out his newest mess, Kristoph somehow felt happy in a way that was so familiar it actually hurt.
--
The evening before Apollo's first court case, Kristoph treated him to dinner to celebrate. For the past few years, Apollo had been a valuable assistant and a talented student. Kristoph could see no reason why Apollo would not win tomorrow's case. Even so, Apollo was clearly nervous. After dinner, Kristoph proposed a toast.
"To your future, which I know to be bright and full of promise."
Apollo blushed and scratched his head in embarrassment. "Thanks, Mr. Gavin... but for me it's still only a faraway dream to become a great defense attorney like you."
Kristoph felt like he was sinking into quicksand as he finally realized what it was about Apollo that drew him so strongly.
--
From his jail cell, Kristoph still followed Klavier's and Apollo's cases closely. It amused him to learn that the two had become courtroom rivals. Six months after his arrest, he was called to the court as a special witness for Drew Misham's murder case. Kristoph felt only resignation: between his clever little brother and his perceptive junior partner, it was inevitable that the truth would get out. But he wouldn't make it easy for them. They deserved better than that.
As the trial wore on, Kristoph drank in the sight of Klavier and Apollo, standing on opposite sides of the court but united for a common cause. If only the common cause didn't happen to be convicting Kristoph of murder.
Watching his brother and his protege work together to expose the web of plots and lies in which Kristoph found himself was the proudest and most painful moment of his life.
Klavier was right: Kristoph was no longer needed. Not by the court system, not by his clingy little brother, and not by his ever-loyal student. Kristoph laughed, and allowed himself to be led back to his cell to await his sentence.