All right, Ladies and Gentlemen and of course, everyone in between and beyond those concepts! This... hate to say it... it the last chapter. Oh, but it's like, three times as long as the normal ones, so technically it's the three last chapters.
I want to thank all of you so very, VERY much for reading this. It's been my first attempt at uploading a fanfiction in several years and I was completely overwhelmed by the reactions I got. In fact, I might even write a sequel to this eventually, although that will take a little time.
Oh, and for all the people who can't speak german (or didn't want to put it through Google Translate), here's the translation of those mysterious german lyrics Klavier wrote.
Sadness, break my heart in half
hard as stone, heavy as lead
only death can cure everything
and life passes by
Brother, Brother
These days
fate will catch up to us
split us into life and death
only the gallows with it's ropes
will set our souls free.
Brother, let's hold hands
through the bars of your world
stay with me when your life
falls through the door of the gallows
Brother, Brother,
These days
let me see your tears
hold me and let's go
into the light of the next life...
No, you will not die alone.
#
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January 05, 03:14 PM
Prison
Cell No. 1467
#
CRACK!
Blaise Debeste screamed in pain as the whip connected with his skin, leaving a deep, red mark. "Y-you..."
"Silence, FOOL!" CRACK! And another hit. Franziska was not holding back in the slightest. "If you value your skin, then follow orders!"
"I..." CRACK! "AAAUGH!"
"I told you to be silent!"
Blaise opened his mouth yet again, but didn't say anything. Probably because Franziska had raised her whip as soon as he'd moved. But she didn't hit him. Instead, a smile flashed over her face.
"By the way... has anybody told you yet?"
"Told me what?!", growled the man, anger in his eyes. Franziska's smile grew.
"Oh, so the answer is no. How utterly delightful. Well, I assume it is my duty then..."
She sat down at his side and leaned back. "After Mr. Sebastian left this place, he went straight to the warden. Why? Because, as far as he is concerned, you have been jailed long enough. It's time to get you out."
A grin formed on Blaise's lips. "Y'see? That idiot is..."
"Out and straight to the gallows, of course."
Blaise went pale and Franziska grabbed his collar, pulled him up to her face and snarled: "Yes, he went and sped up your death sentence, you worthless fool. You're going to hang in a week, at the exact same day you wanted to have Kristoph Gavin hanged. You got that? DID YOU GET THAT?!"
He struggled against her grip, but it was futile and she just kept talking. "You... fathers like you disgust me. People like you disgust me!" CRACK! "But no one needs you anymore! You plan's been foiled, your son's grown up and next week he'll be there to watch you die, just to make sure you are really dead!" She was panting now. "And you will die not as a legendary prosecutor, not as a great, famous man. You will die as a pathetic heap of lost dreams who was so broken and so bitter that he tried to murder his own son. Although there is one problem with this. Do you know which one, fool?"
No answer. She chuckled.
"The problem, Blaise Debeste, is that I'm not allowed to whip you to death, no matter how much I want to. But... I suppose I can control myself." CRACK! "Maybe."
She would have to. For Sebastian's sake.
#
January 05, 03:32 PM
Prosecutor Building
Blackquill's office
#
"I am surprised that you are not crying, Sebastian-dono."
But that was a lie, Simon wasn't surprised. He'd expected it. But he couldn't let Sebastian see that.
The other prosecutor sat, knees to his chest, in Blackquill's office. He wasn't really paying attention to Simon, instead focussing on the katanas decorating the wall, fiddling with his fingers due to lack of a baton. Taka was perched on his shoulder. Somehow, Sebastian had managed to gain the bird's trust and now the wild hawk was acting like a tame canary whenever the young prosecutor came along. Simon didn't mind. It meant that he was no longer the only one protesting whenever someone - another prosecutor, the judge, the janitor - complained about the "wild animal". And that, he reckoned, was good enough.
Sebastian sighed. "I... I'm not going to cry. He doesn't deserve that."
Ah, so that's what it was? Understandable. But still not very healthy. "Sebastian-dono..."
"Hm?"
"Aren't you being controlled by him still?"
A sharp wince. Taka screeched in shock and flew up, landing on a stack of papers in the corner. Sebastian stared up at Simon with wide-open eyes. "Y-you... how can you... I'm... I'm not beind c-corroded by him anymore..."
Simon shook his head. "Controlled, Sebastian-dono. Although one could say that he corroded your mind, too." He laughed darkly, then frowned. "But that is not important. What is important is that he is definitely controlling you. And if you don't fight him now, he will continue controlling you from beyond the grave."
There was fear in the air, he could smell it. "But he isn't..."
"Silence. Listen closely now."
And Simon knelt down so he could be eye to eye with the other man.
"Even now, you are doing things for his sake, in his name. You want to cry, don't you?"
A moment of shock. "NO! He... he doesn't deserve it! He..."
"Stop thinking about him and do what you want! No one cares about what he does or does not deserve. If you wish to cry, forget about that rotten father of yours and do it!"
For a second, nothing happened. And then Sebastian started to sob.
Those weren't his usual tears. Those tears were bigger, stronger and much more blobby and ugly. But they carried the scent of freedom. They resembled... the ones he himself had shed when he'd set foot in his home after those seven years...
No sentimentalies now! This was about Sebastian!
But the boy looked well enough. He was sobbing still, but he didn't really look sad. "Simon... you know the... the best thing about all this?"
"Hm?" Wait, had he just said 'the be...
"The b-best thing is how his entire plan failed because of... of a single security guard. I... I just can't..."
And slowly, his sobbing turned to laughter.
#
January 05, 03:43 PM
Prosecutor Building
Security Room
#
Larry leaned back in his chair and eyed the security cameras. Nothing unusual, really. Everyone was doing what they were supposed to do - Edgey was enjoying his seventeenth cup of tea, Klavier was ignoring his paperwork in favour of playing air guitar, Franzy was being perfectly perfect while reading a law book, those two weird janitor guys were arguing about something, Sebastian was sobbing in Blackquill's office, Blackquill was comforting him, the weird hooded figure with the pistol in office 0402 was rummaging through the secret safe. Nothing to worry about. He took a sip of his coke and sighed.
Six more hours to go until... until what? Until he could return to an empty apartment and draw people he saw on TV. Great.
And he was all alone today. Double great.
Nothing to do, really. Just hour after hour of boredom and...
"Oh... Larry, are you here...?"
Sweetest voice ever! That was...
"Hey, Melicia! What'ya doing here? Are you healthy again?"
She smiled. "Yes, almost. I... am here to thank you for this."
And she held up a painting, showing her at her desk. "That was from you, right?"
He grinned. "Sure was! And I drew it just for you!"
"I... have to apologize, Larry." And she looked down at her small feet. "I... thought you were just some weird loner. I didn't know you could paint. It's really beautiful."
Larry ran a hand through his hair and gave her his widest grin. "That's because the model was beautiful, too! But yeah, I paint all the time. I even made a book!"
"You... wrote a book? I never expected..."
"It's called Franzy's Whippidy Whip Trip. You should read it, I'll even sign it for you."
And she almost dropped the painting. "T-that... no way. You wrote that?! My niece loves that book! Oh please, you have to sign her copy of it!"
A shrug. "Sure, no problem. You know, I wanted to write a sequel, too. Kay Faraday's Highly Priced Heist! Aw, but the girl I wanted for it refused to model for me."
"I can't understand that at all..." Another soft smile. "Sorry, Larry. I have to leave now. I need to go fetch my medicine. But... maybe once you're done here, we could... have some coffee together? I'll bring the book for you to sign..."
"Sure thing, Melicia-sweetie!" His heart was beating. Finally, his sweet lil' Melicia paid him some attention... positive attention, too! Jackpot!
And she waved to him before she left! Best. Day. Ever.
Six more hours to go until... yes, until he'd have a cup of coffee with the cutest girl in town and maybe she'd model for him, too! Perhaps he'd even make her part of his next book, whatever it was going to be about. Yeah man!
He couldn't wait to tell Edgey and Nick about this.
#
January 05, 03:46 PM
Cemetery
Southern entrance
#
Phoenix brushed his fingers over the hard stone.
No one had taken care of this place. There were no flowers, other than a few wild dandelions. However, there was no lack of thistles and nettles. It was a sobering sight. He had managed to tear out a few of them, but that hardly made the grave prettier.
Godot deserved something better than this. Maybe he'd call in Trucy and get some flowers planted here. All colors except red on white. And maybe some catnip for the kittens.
And then there was the matter of the cup he was holding. Back when he had first learned of Diego's death, the thought hadn't really been serious, but now...
The blackest, darkest coffee he had found. He'd tried it earlier, but oh god was it bitter. Just how Diego liked it.
"Good evening, Mr. Wright."
He winced in shock and almost spilled the coffee. Upon turning around, his gaze met that of Katherine Halls, holding a large mug. She waved her fan at him.
There was no prison uniform, he noticed. She wore a long green dress now, with a belt of roses. It made her look younger, much younger. Much happier.
"I went to your agency first, but a young lady told me you had left to visit a dead friend. I knew where to find you instantly."
"Yes, I... felt like I had to come here." He shrugged. "So, your sentence is..."
"Over now. I had two more month to go originally, but they let me go early... for helping the law."
She sat down at his side, long hair brushing over the ground. "This grave is a mess."
"It is. I'll take my daughter and plant some flowers here."
"Really? In that case, it would be a pleasure to help."
He looked at her. "No red roses."
Katherine gave a nod. "How about yellow ones, then?"
"Yellow is fine. Uh... why are you carrying a mug around, by the way?"
Holding the cup out, she answered: "I could ask you the same. Want a sip?"
And as he took one, he knew what it was for. "We had the same idea."
"We did. This is the caramel coffee I used to make for him."
Phoenix licked his lips. "It's really sweet. This right here is just black coffee. But it was pretty expensive."
She nodded again. "Want to pour it together?"
And so they did. The dry ground swallowed the liquid up, leaving only wet dirt behind. Phoenix sighed and got up.
"It's pretty ridiculous, really, but it felt right."
"Yes... yes, it did. Mr. Wright?"
"Uh, yeah?"
"I... I'd like to hear some things about him. And generally, about people. I realized just recently that there are a few very important people in my life who I know nothing about and I was hoping... well..." She sighed. "There is Godot, Gumshoe, Edgeworth, Kay..."
"Well, I can tell you a few things about some of these. I don't know that much about Kay..."
#
January 05, 03:49 PM
Hospital
Room 7
#
"Pst! Hey, MaskDeMasque!"
Ron Delite winced and instantly regretted it. It had hurt!
He was still in the hospital and his wounds still hurt badly, especially when he moved. At the very least he wasn't going to die...
He knew that voice. It was...
"Even in the depths of night, when no other bird dares to take flight, one alone soars to shine the light of righteousness on the world's blight! And that one is me. For I am the Great Thief Yatagarasu!"
A small shadow fell from the ceiling and landed next to him, almost knocking the nightstand over. Kay grinned up at him. "Hi, Mr. Delite. How are you doing?"
He blinked. "Uh... K-kay? Well... I'm fine... I mean, I'm in the hospital so I'm probably not really fine but..."
"Great! That assassin did a real number on you, so I was a little worried. But it's great to see you're okay. Sorry I didn't visit you earlier... the doctors didn't allow it. So I snuck in instead!"
She looked insanely proud about that. Ron shook his head. "You... probably shouldn't do that..."
"Nah, don't worry, Mr. Edgeworth's gonna bail me out if I get in trouble. Say, hang on a sec."
She reached over her shoulder and took of the backpack she was wearing. Carefully, she opened it and took out a small laptop. For a few seconds, she was busy tipping around. Then she spun it around, showing it's screen to Ron.
"Say hi to your wive, will you?"
Desirée gave him a wave from the screen: "Hey, Ronnie! How are you doing?"
"Dessie..." That was all he could say and his wife laughed. "Hey, no need to be so nervous, Ronnie. I just wanted to tell you that the guy who wanted to buy the 'Golden Girl' showed up. I sold it, like we decided. So no worries about that."
"Thank you, Dessie. That really means a lot to me."
"Heh, you're welcome. Oh, and I also didn't want to miss your answer."
Answer? Answer to... "Tell him, will you, Kay?"
The thief flashed a peace sign at no one in particular. "Sure thing! So, Mr. Delite..."
She looked almost serious now. This was going to be important, was it?
"You probably didn't know this, but the Yatagarasu used to be three peope... a detective, a defense attorney and a prosecutor who wanted to steal the truth together. When I found out about that, I wanted to find a group of my own. But, you see... I already had connections to a detective, a prosecutor and a defense attorney... Gummy, Mr. Edgeworth and Mr. Shields. So I wanted to find a group of cute girls, like me. But it's kinda hard to find cute girls who are also thieves."
"Uh... s-so?"
"Well, I sat down and thought... what does a thief need to have? Skill, of course. And sneakiness. And a ton of courage and bravery. Well... you have the skill and the sneakiness down. I wasn't sure about the courage part at first... but you ran head first into an assassin to safe me, so..."
She looked down at the laptop on the ground. "I... kinda wanted to ask if you wanna be a part of my team. You know, when my plan needs two people and stuff like that."
No, this was a terrible idea. He'd been out with this girl once and he'd almost been killed. Stuff like that was way beyond his level, he was a thief and no policeman, he...
...he met his wife's eyes, eager and filled with the wish for action and he knew the answer.
"I would be honored to join the Great Thief Yatagarasu."
"I knew it! I knew you couldn't resist, Ronnie!"
And Kay punched the sky in glee: "GREAT! Welcome in my team! All right, I'll give you a buttload of information to start you of!"
She clapped. "Get yourself pen and paper, this is important! So, first of all, if you ever get involved with the police, ask for Detective Gumshoe..."
#
January 05, 03:51 PM
Police Department
Archive
#
"Alright, we got it! Thanks a bunch, pal!"
"No problem at all, Detective. I don't mind filing a few things. Besides, my computer is updating, so I don't have anything to do right now." Ema leaned back and admired the shelf they had just stocked together. "That's a lot of files."
"Sure is, pal. Mr. Gavin had me bring in all the files which were still at his brother's office."
The forensic expert scoffed. "That sounds like the fop. Making others work for him. Anything else I can help you with? That update is going to take forever."
Gumshoe took a look around, then shrugged. "Not really. Guess you could stand by and watch me clean my desk."
"Hm. Fine, why not. At least that way I have someone to talk to. Things do get boring on your own."
"Yeah, you're right about that. I... huh? Hey, what's that?"
There was an envelope on the Detective's desk. Gumshoe picked up and glared at it in confusion. "What the heck's this about? It's from Mr. Edgeworth..."
"From Mr. Edgeworth? It's got do be important then. Open it up!"
Gumshoe tried, but in the end, it was less "open up" and more "tear apart". Still, after a short struggle, he held a piece of paper in his large hands.
"Okay, let's see. Detective Dick Gumshoe, due to the part you have played it... nanana... duty of a detective... expertly fulfilled... RAISE YOUR SALARY?!"
A sharp noise sounded as Ema threw a cup on the floor, grabbing over the table with no regard for the items on it in order to pull the letter from Gumshoe's grip. She read it hastily, sucking in the air as she finished. "That... no way. This is a pay raise! He raised your salary!"
Gumshoe grabbed the letter back from her, crumpling it up in the progress. He didn't seem to care.
"Is... is that even legal, pal? Can he do that?!"
"Well... yeah, of course he can... I... you..." After a moment of gesticulating, she gave up. Gumshoe had fallen silent.
"Hey... maybe if I safe up a little, I can invite Maggey over for dinner! It's been a pretty long time since I did that."
Of course. Any other man would have safed the hard-earned cash, but not Gumshoe. Gumshoe would have spend his last dollar for someone else. In fact, he had already reached for his phone to call Maggey. And only now did Ema notice the small engagement ring wrapped around his finger...
She wanted to comment on it, but was interrupted by a loud "Bing" from her own office.
"Oh, hey, looks like my update's done. See you, Detective. I need to update the profiles of the people involved in that poisoning case now. You... have fun with that pay raise of yours, yeah?"
"You bet I will, pal! You have fun updating profiles!"
"Yeah, sure. Nothing better than updating the data of a few law students."
#
January 05, 03:57 PM
Themis Legal Academy
Schoolyard
#
"Sss, sss, sss. Now this is an article worth writing down." Somewhere beneath her box, Myriam Scuttlebutt laughed. There was the sound of tipping as she wrote the last few words, then a satisfying clack. "There. Title story's done. Thanks to you, Apollo."
The defense attorney shrugged. "No problem, really. I guess you were right, the students here want to know what's going on in the legal world."
Juniper tugged on her sunflower. "Mr. Sebastian went to this school too, you know? That was back when the prosecutors still wore blue and the defense attorneys wore red."
"Well, I for one would have prefered if they hadn't changed it. I look D-A-S-H-I-N-G in blue. RIGHT, MAN?!"
A small vase shattered as Robin threw it against the nearest wall. She looked at it in surprise for a second, then got up to pick up the shards. "Hey, cool! Tesserae!"
Apollo watched as she scooped up the pieces one by one and placed them in a plastic bag she'd pulled from her pocket. "You're going to make a mosaic from that?"
"Sure, man, that's what I do with all my broken pottery! Say, how much longer is Hugh going to take?"
"Sss, sss. The prosecutor course is writing a test today. They might take a little longer to end class."
"Oh... yes, he did mention something like that... I hope he did well. He studied like crazy, but, you know, what with being kidnapped and all..." Cough. Juniper sniffed.
"Don't worry, there he is." Apollo pointed at the door, where Hugh O'Conner had just almost dropped his bow. When he noticed the small group of people, he waved and quickly came over. "Ah, good day, Apollo."
"Hey, Hugh. How are you?"
"Yeah, man! How did the T-E-S-T go?"
"Hmpf. I did perfectly, like a genius should."
Hugh flipped his hair back and grinned. For about two seconds. Then the facade broke and he glanced aside, avoiding eye contact. "Well... question six was a little difficult. I just don't understand that part in chapter nine, where during civil cases, the judge can at any given time..."
"Oh! Oh, Hugh, you should have said something, I can help you out with that..."
"Y-you don't need to... you... ah... thank you, Juniper." Hugh blushed and sat down next to them, keeping his bow close to his chest.
"And, uh... other than that?", asked Apollo and felt somehow bad about it. Hugh didn't seem to understand the question. "What do you mean?"
"Sss. He wants to know how you feel after getting kidnapped." If a lack of diplomacy had been money, Myriam would have been the richest girl on earth.
"Oh... that." And now Hugh's mood was ruined. If only he hadn't brought that up...
"Hugh... de Killer's in prison, okay? And he's not the kind of man who takes revenge for stuff like that. You're going to be fine. Okay? You are fine."
"I... I know. But I would... prefer to talk about something different."
Robin nodded. "No problem. So, other than the test, how's learning going?"
And as Hugh launched into a speech about his own genius once more, Apollo noticed how tightly he was clutching his bow.
He was scared still. But soon enough, that fear would fade, he was sure of that. Shelly de Killer had been jailed and there was no way he would get out alive, not with all the guards surrounding him.
So why did Apollo feel uneasy...?
#
January 05, 04:09 PM
Prison
Death row
#
Shoes on the cold floor, the only sound in this empty floor. They had yet to notice anything and by the time they would finally realize what he had done, he would be long gone.
It had been a stroke of luck, in a way. He had done as he had been told and the failure could not be considered to be his fault. Therefore, their contract had been fulfilled. And as a result of it all, he had been thrown into prison. How utterly kind of them to take him here.
Shelly de Killer smiled.
He hadn't killed the young guard, since there had been no reason for it. He had merely knocked him out and stolen his uniform. Now he was roaming the lower levels of this wretched place, searching for a very specific cell.
Where was it now...
Hands wrapped around a knife. It had been ridiculously easy to get a knife in here... these guards should be brought to court, really. He could have taken a gun instead, that would have been equally easy, but there had to be something said for the good old knife. Besides, guns were nice if one wanted to perform a quick, clean kill. But if one wanted the opposite...
This wasn't going to be over quick. He'd make sure of that. Twenty, thirty minutes alive and screaming, that was the bare minimum, wasn't it? He'd waited a long time for this. He deserved a treat.
Familiar faces on all sides. Most of them ignored him, some threw insults at his head. Wouldn't they be horrified once they realized that they had directed these slurs not at a mere guard, but at a feared assassin? The thought alone made him chuckle.
Soon now. Just a little further in, then...
There, one of the last few cells. There he was, leaning against the wall, a cocky grin on his face.
Shelly unlocked the door and the inmate looked over at him as he stepped inside.
"Hey, dude, whatcha doing here? Are you doing a dare? Because I'm not in the mood to be bothered... right... no!"
The assassin smiled at his victim, taking of his hat as he turned around.
"Good evening, Mr. Engarde. I trust you've been well?"
And as the first of many screams rang out, Shelly made a mental note to thank the young lady who had read his emotions and send him here. She deserved his gratitude.
#
January 05, 04:25 PM
Prison
Visitor's room
#
Here she was, visiting prison yet again. The same procedure, the same processes. The same words, things, actions, people. She'd visited this place more often than the courtroom!
But there was something she wanted to know, something she had to know. She had to know if she had been right, in that short second... or if it had been imagination.
She wasn't even sure if she wanted to know. The thought of having been wrong was painful. But at the same time, she knew that this was important. Important for all of them.
"Ms. Cykes? You may enter the visitor's room now.
This time, Kristoph Gavin was already waiting when she entered the room. Not that it changed anything, mind you. He was just as apathetic and indifferent as last time. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, to suggest that he had noticed her. And there was that emptyness again. The emptyness of a broken mind.
Alright, then. Time to test herself. With one hand, she brought up the Mood Matrix, just to ensure she wouldn't miss a thing, then she cleared her throat and whispered: "Mr. Gavin!"
It felt weird, to say that to someone who wasn't Klavier. But there was no reaction, no movement at all. His emotions stayed silent. She took a deep breath and tried again.
"Mr. Gavin..." Okay. Here went nothing. "Mr. Gavin, your brother isn't hurt. And he doesn't hate you."
Nothing happened. Perhaps she'd been too quiet, or perhaps she'd really just been mistaken earlier when
Surprise
Her heart stopped.
It hadn't been her imagination, not this time. For the quarter of a second, there had been an emotion, a sign of humanity. She quickly leaned in closer and continued, with a hushed voice: "It's true, Mr. Gavin. You didn't kill your brother. And he's not angry at you, he knows that you didn't want to hurt him. He's... he's glad you are all right. He was worried about you too, you know? He still cares. For you. He cares for you."
...
...
...
...
Happiness...
It was brief, it was weak. But it was there.
Athena placed one hand on the glass. Kristoph had raised his head, was now actually looking at her. Okay... more like looking through her, but still. Maybe, if she told Klavier about this, it would make him feel a little bit be...
Wait. Wait.
Klavier... feeling... oh god, no, she...
...she had forgotten about the damn lyrics sheet again!
Okay. Stay calm. Mr. Edgeworth had those lyrics too, right? And he could speak German. Surely he would adress the issue...
...right?
#
January 05, 04:28 PM
Prosecutor's Building
High Prosecutor's office
#
"Would you like some tea, Mr. Gavin?"
"Ach, if you are offering. Thank you, Herr Edgeworth."
The chief prosecutor poured two cups of tea and sat down at his desk, hands folded. "Now, Mr. Gavin. How are you feeling?"
"What are you talking about, Herr Edgeworth? I'm fine, if I may quote my dear Herr Forehead."
"Hm."
He didn't say anything else and sure enough, eventually Klavier continued to speak on his own. "Although, I have gotten news from the hospital. They say that I need to get my lungs examined."
"Hm. And other than that you are, as you say, fine?"
"Ja, completely."
Silence. After a while, Edgeworth sighed, got up, turned his back to Mr. Gavin and stared out through the window.
"Mr. Gavin... I am not usually one open with my feelings. However, I belive that right now, openness would be very much appreciated. I want to ask you something."
Behind him, Klavier tilted his head. "Ich höre?"
"Good, because you do need to listen. Tell me, are you familiar with the words 'Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death?"
There was a muffled noise as Klavier dropped his half-empty tea cup. It hit the carpet and rolled away, spilling it's contents on the floor. Neither of them acknowledged it.
"What... what gave me away?"
Edgeworth shook his head, sadly. "Like I said, I am not open with my feelings. But many years ago, after I had learned the truth about the DL-6 incident, after I had learned that I had unknowingly presented false evidence in the SL-9 incident... I left the courtroom to get my shoes shined."
He stopped there and Mr. Gavin stared at him in utter bewilderment. "You did what exactly?!"
"I got my shoes shined, my hair done. I cleaned my home and my office. I went to the finest restaurant in this city and ordered the most expensive thing on the menu. After that, I went home, put on my best suit, enjoyed a cup of my favourite tea, wrote a note and downed an entire bottle of sleeping pills."
There was a small gasp from Klavier, but Edgeworth ignored it, just kept speaking. "About three hours later, I woke up, groggy and tired. When I realized that I was still alive, I started to panic. I booked a last-minute flight to Germany and just... disappeared. After a month or two, I felt the need to talk to someone, so what did I do? I called someone. Not my sister. Not my best friend. I called Detective Gumshoe, who I wasn't even that close to at that time. Oh, we worked together, but I didn't consider him a friend. Yet I called him, of all people. The reason for it eludes me. What I am trying to say is..."
He took a sip of his tea. "...I know very much what suicidal prosecutors looks like. They look like you, Mr. Gavin. And they write songs about killing themselves."
Cup in hand, he closed his eyes and waited for an answer. A minute passed.
"...I... wasn't actually going to do it", mumbled Klavier, head down, hands in his lap. "I... just thought about, you know... and then I wrote those lyrics. I know they're a little... grim, but I wasn't really going to... it's just a song."
"I see. I hope for your own sake that you are telling the truth. Although I suppose that, seeing how your brother's execution has been postponed, you are feeling better already."
Klavier groaned and buried his face in his hands. "I probably look really stupid, losing my head over a... a killer, but..."
"Mr. von Karma was never cruel to me", said Edgeworth and instantly regretted it. Why had he said that? And now Klavier looked at him, expecting more. "Whatever do you mean now, Herr Edgeworth?"
The chief prosecutor took a deep breath. "Mr. von Karma was never cruel to me", he repeated and added: "He was strict, yes, but never cruel. I learned everything I know from him. He was a horrible person and a terrible prosecutor, but by no means a bad mentor. Can I assume that Kristoph Gavin was not a bad brother, either?"
And Klavier Gavin broke into tears.
Luckily, ever since Sebastian had returned to the office, Edgeworth always kept some tissues at close. He handed one over the the sobbing prosecutor and watched as Klavier came apart.
"I... I just... I couldn't bear to visit him at first, you know? When... when they locked him away I... I didn't want to see him, I... I didn't want to see the... the monster my brother had b-become. And... and when, w-when I finally found the courage to visit h-him a...anyway, it was j-just so... so horrible to see that he wasn't a monster. He was s-still... still the man who'd teached me how to r-ride a bike and who'd b-bought me my first... g-guitar... who helped me with my h-homework... but now he was a murderer..."
The rest of his word were lost underneath his sobs, but Edgeworth could hear anyway. He sighed, slowly. "I understand. I know how harsh it must be for you. But you cannot afford to lose yourself over this. For now, I will belive your claim that this song of yours was merely that... a song. But I still want you to pay this place a visit."
He scribbled an adress on a small scrap of paper and pushed it over to Mr. Gavin, who took it without complaining. "This is the adress of a therapist. She has done wonders for both me and Mr. Sebastian and I know for a fact that Mr. Blackquill is planning on visiting her, too. I want you to see her and resolve your issues. Feel free to take a few days off if you think that you need them for your mental health."
"Y-yes... danke..."
Klavier pushed the paper into his pocket and got up to leave. Just before he could open the door, Edgeworth stopped him.
"Oh, and when you visit her... please make sure to adress your habit of sniffing nail polish. It may sound harmless at first, but acetone is poisonous."
Mr. Gavin sighed in defeat. "Nothing get's past you, ja?"
"Exactly. I figure that that is the reason you fainted, correct? And most likely also the cause of your damaged lungs. I don't tolerate drugs, no matter of what kind, so please try to take care of yourself."
The only answer he got was a nod. Then Klavier stepped out and closed the door behind himself. As soon as it was closed, Edgeworth heared the first few notes of a somber melody:
"Kummer, brich mein Herz entzwei
hart wie Stein, so schwer wie Blei..."
And he closed his eyes.
There, right in front of his office, silently singing his sad song in German, was a prosecutor who'd never forged evidence, never instructed a witness, never seen the defense as an enemy to be crushed. In the offices beneath him worked a former convict, twisted as a drill yet straight as an arrow, a tearful man who'd started out so small and had grown so big and a powerful woman who had freed herself from her father's grip to find her own way. And somewhere in the security room was a guard who, no matter how foolish and unlucky he might be, had good intentions and the will to fulfill them.
He looked out of the window. Out there was the Wright Anything Agency, where his closest and most trustworthy friend was raising his subordinates, a man who was as kind as he was loud and a woman who cured the souls of her witnesses as opposed to breaking them.
Between the Agency and the prosecutor's building was the police station. There, a loyal, hardworking detective and a skilled, determined forensic scientist were working day and night to bring criminals to justice.
The sunbeams tickled the horizon, perhaps hitting the Themis Legal Academy. A school filled with future defense attorneys, prosecutors and judges being teached to work together in court, being teached that the end never justified the means.
Even the criminals had joined the side of justice. He'd known of one skilled burglar to call. Now it seemed that he'd found yet another criminal who could be trusted to help in times of need.
And he was here, in his office above the city, a Chief Prosecutor with all the power needed to pursue the truth. He allowed himself a smile as he downed the last few drops of his tea.
Times were rough and there had been setbacks. But all in all, times were getting better.