Runes of blood, now serve me well

They parted at an intersection under the pewter grey sky. Curiously, none of the stragglers lumbering at this hour of the morning, paid the mouse king any attention and Mickey whisked away.

Ribs aching from where he collided on the asphalt, Vanitas rubbed dust off Zack's sweater and sauntered to the apartment. He sneezed several times, after breathing the pristine air of Disney Castle; his lungs stubbornly rejected the smog filled city air.

The corridor walls brushed against his shoulders. Cold.

He opened the door cautiously. Waves crashed in the kitchen, the roar reached his ears. At the table, one of his plushies sat opposite Sora, who lifted a coffee mug half-way to his lips and blinked owlishly.

Half a minute passed, the awkward silence filled with the aroma of coffee.

"I'm hungry," Vanitas announced and hugged a plushie tenderly to his stomach. A plate of breakfast slid his way. "Today's my trial," he added unnecessarily and briefly wondered what his brother did while he disappeared.

Fortunately, Sora didn't go bald from worry but dark rings circled his eyes. Vanitas knew he appeared no different.

He yawned. "The KBWA whisked me to headquarters... through," he took a bite of toast and reached for Sora's mug, "through space," he mumbled. "It's in a place called Disney Castle." Sora patiently listened, vulturine gaze never leaving Vanitas' face. "I went there via a Gummi ship; the pilot flew through a hole in a giant asteroid crawling with monsters."

The toaster popped two more slices and Sora buttered them vigorously.

"Disney Castle looks like it came straight out of a cartoon, or a game." Vanitas greedily munched the toast, when last did he have a proper meal? He forgot. "It's vibrant, I plucked cherries from a tree and right before my eyes, the tree sprouted more fruit." He smothered jam on a piece of bread and stuffed it in his mouth. "The place is perfect for you," he smirked, "there aren't any people." Another stretch of silence weighed his one sided conversation. "You... you don't believe me, do you?" Vanitas stabbed the edge of the butter knife through the toast and swirled it on his plate.

Sora passed him a steaming cup of coffee.

"I do," he said. "I visited the KBWA yesterday." Vanitas choked. "They told me everything... well, almost everything," Sora conceded. "It sounded like a bunch of crap but Mr. Wright believes in Ms. Maya who is a spiritual medium and she apparently has second sight and described it to me, it sounds a lot like the fantasy…" Sora paused, "sorry. It sounds exactly like those orange settings you tell me about whenever you are bored." He scratched the back of his head. "I suppose other worlds do exist," he exhaled. "It's a lot to take in," he admitted and rubbed his eyes.

Vanitas dipped the last piece of toast in his coffee; he missed the apartment, despite it being a measly two days since he last entered it. A clean sheet covered his normally messy sofa-bed and the perpetually open wardrobe against the wall was forced shut. His brother did not bother drawing the curtains apart.

"I didn't kill her," he abruptly stated. "I swear," Vanitas tried to sit straight and winced when his ribs ached. "She was alread-"

"I know," Sora interrupted. "I never doubted you for a moment." Vanitas trailed him to the frosted, glass walled bedroom. "Here," Sora plucked a photograph from the mess of papers and pens on his bed, "I got a photograph of those shadow… heartless things you mentioned," he pointed to a tendril, "the crime scene contained a lot of scratches, the victim's skin was also scratched; your Keyblade is blunt." Vanitas did a double take when Sora flipped to an image of Void Gear. "It couldn't make such fine scratches," Sora said, more to himself than to his twin.

The initial photograph displayed a congregation of lower heartless, lamp yellow eyes glaring at the camera. Vanitas could smell the accompanying reek of blood when he stumbled on the shadows in the alley. They hunched over a corpse, already attended by a handful of flies. The monsters tore through her jacket, digging desperately for the woman's intact heart.

Another image showed him with the Keyblade raised.

"Where did you get this?" he asked. The new photo did not show the heartless he clobbered, just him looming menacingly over the woman. "I blasted one of those things into the wall, look," he urgently motioned to his turned head in the image, "I'm glaring at it."

Climbing on the bed, Sora cleared a space and Vanitas glowered when another of his soft toys emerged from behind the comforter. He grabbed his uni-horned dragon and joined his brother in staring at a flow diagram on the laptop.

"How did you get the photo of the heartless?" Vanitas wondered aloud. "Last time I checked, cameras can't take pictures of the magic world." He snapped an image with his Org XIII smartphone. "You have sand in your bedroom, but obviously it's not showing here." Studying the photo for a heartbeat longer, he deleted it. "The heartless are," an ache flared across his chest, "tiny bipedal things, with antennae on their heads." Vanitas tried to sketch a heartless. "And they are pretty pathetic, if you scream at them loud enough, they'll probably disintegrate-"

"Did you see this man when you were hunting heartless?" Sora cut into the rambling explanation.

The man on screen wore designer spectacles and a navy blue jumper. "Who the hell is he?" Vanitas petulantly scowled. "I didn't see anyone... apart from Axel."

Tearing his gaze away from the monitor, Sora lifted a questioning eyebrow.

"Not while I was busy killing those things," Vanitas confessed. "But Zack and I stopped in front of Organization XIII and Axel came out of it!" he excitedly related. "Che, I couldn't get an autograph..."

"If it helps you feel any better, I ran into Klavier Gavin in front of the law offices," Sora drawled. "I was too busy inspecting my shoes so I didn't ask him for an autograph as well." Vanitas abandoned his attempt to sketch a heartless and scribbled like a child all over Sora's notebook. "Mr. Gavin is a good friend of my senior attorney," Sora added, "I'll ask him for a signed photo the next time so stop butchering my notebook!" he huffed and shut the laptop.

Time crawled nearer to the dreaded trial as he dutifully charted the arguments and organized the evidence in the court record. He wrote everything on sheets of paper and periodically peeked at Vanitas, to remind himself who he fought for.

The picture of Void Gear rested on top of a plastic sleeve.

"The Keyblade," Vanitas somberly held his brother's gaze, "is a much sought after weapon, in the past, the people who used them were known as heroes. Countless of them died to preserve the balance," he recalled his history lessons, "and they are still doing it without normal people understanding what goes on behind the scenes. Keyblade wielders," Vanitas raised his voice when Sora crossed to the ivory wardrobe crammed in the miniscule room, "are honorable people. They lay down their lives for a good cause."

Vanitas hoped his brother's stance on Keyblade wielders changed; Sora rooted in the closet and brought out a brand new two piece suit.

A tie and white shirt joined it and Sora shut the wardrobe, trailing a muffler on his arm. "Suit up," he ordered and pointed to the clothes, "we're leaving."

The prosecutor briskly entered through the lobby doors, a purse slung over her shoulder and lace gloved hand clutching a riding whip. Her heels clacked on the tiles and she stopped when Phoenix Wright rose to acknowledge her.

"Franziska," he greeted warily. "Nice to see you again."

The blush threatening to cover her pale cheeks receded through sheer force of will. "Wright," her grip on the whip tightened for a split second and Phoenix paled. "The PIC summoned me to handle this case," she smirked, "I believe one of your employers will be taking the bench?" The turquoise gem at her neck gleamed under the lights. "The accused is the attorney's twin brother," the lobby door opened and a gust of warm air stirred her silver hair, "rest assured, I will get you the guilty verdict." She smiled when Wright exhaled helplessly.

The prosecutor continued to the witness lounge and once out of sight, turned back, grey eyes resting on the young woman wearing a top hat and silk cape.

Inside the lobby, Phoenix revised the case details, attention pulling to Athena, Apollo and Trucy conducting a meeting in the middle of the lobby like a trio of co-conspirators. His daughter marched over and perched on the sofa.

"Is there something wrong Daddy?" she asked, azure eyes softening in worry.

A rueful smile lifted the corner of his mouth. "Mind doing Daddy a favor?" he asked. "The prosecutor likes whipping people, I don't know how many times I suffered the business end of her whip," he shivered. "I'd like you to act as co-counsel for this trial."

"Me?" Trucy questioned, mouth open in surprise.

Wright nodded, "Yes, you. Hopefully she'll go easy on you."

09:50 a.m.

District Court

Courtroom Lobby no. 1

"Vani, you are here to stand trial, not to net a girlfriend," Sora hissed.

His brother messily knotted the tie over his chest and left the top buttons of his shirt open.

"…And this not an occasion to set your hair with gel," Sora growled under his breath when his twin smirked. "We're late thanks to you spending an eternity in the bathroom trying to look like you belong in a host club."

When Vanitas breezed through the courtroom lobby doors, people stopped whatever they did to stare. Even the plant stared, probably, Sora thought as he tucked his chin into his muffler and breathed a sigh of relief at his co-workers. He dragged his brother to the knot of people but Vanitas gave an opposing tug and gravitated towards the door when another pair of people spilled in. Sora noticed the KBWA vice-chief.

A form fitting funeral dress flattered her. Appropriate, since today might be Vanitas' funeral.

She stepped in with Zack at her heels. Silver glinted on her earlobes and without warning, she approached Sora. His cheeks burned as more than one person turned to stab him with jealous eyes.

"Don't worry about the trial today," Tifa soothed when he renewed his interest in the carpet. "Whatever happens, the KBWA will take full responsibility." A smile lit her face when Zack squeezed Vanitas' shoulder. "He's presentable today." Lockhart tilted her head towards them

I had to wrestle him into the suit.

"Looking sharp Puppy," Zack praised and Vanitas glowed at the compliment, he hid it with a frown. "Who are you trying to impress?"

"Myself." Vanitas self-consciously tugged his tie. "Truthfully, I'm trying to look less like a delinquent so the judge takes pity on me and my brother," he admitted.

"Lady killer," Zack winked.

The older twin mimed for Vanitas and he nonchalantly sauntered over, hands thrust in pockets. "Vanitas," he introduced himself to the trio and smiled politely. "Thanks for taking care of my brother," he added and blinked when Sora looked at him. "What?" he barked, "I'm being courteous."

Courteousness exists in your dictionary?

"Sir the courtroom will be opening shortly," the bailiff hastily retreated from the attorney when the golden eyed defendant glared at him. "Pl...please make your way to the hall." He gestured to the doors, refusing to be intimidated.

10:00 a.m.

District Court

Courtroom no.1

"Court will convene for the trial of Vanitas Clavius." The judge observed the man leaning on the witness stand. "He is your twin brother, right Mr. Clavius?" he directed the question at Sora who nodded. "Hmm... you two are very different," the Judge mused and banged the gavel for order. "Prosecutor von Karma," he stated when the hubbub hushed, "your opening statement please."

A conundrum brewed at the defense's bench as Trucy settled beside Sora. "Isn't Ms. Cykes supposed to be my co-counsel today?" he demanded desperately. They made a ridiculous pair, a silk cape wearing magician next to a formally attired lawyer. "Mr. Wright," Sora scanned the viewing gallery, "mentioned she'd be helping me." He placed his notes on the gleaming bench.

Franziska coiled the whip in her hands. "Fool," she sneered, "this trial is a farce, I will have the defendant guilty before the hour is over." She smirked. "Vanitas Clavius is the prime suspect in the murder of Claudia Stone. The victim suffered several stab wounds and unexplained scratches all over her body." Her gunmetal grey eyes locked on Sora who froze like prey paralyzed by a predator's glare. "The defendant was seen looming over the victim with a giant Keyblade." She wagged her finger. "The fool's foolish behavior landed him in this predicament, there are several witnesses." Franziska powered through her words. "Scruffy," she slammed her hand on the bench, "give your testimony."

Detective Gumshoe slowly came to the front of the court.

"Prosecutor von Karma likes to whip people," Trucy quickly whispered and winced when Franziska raised her whip. "Daddy believes she won't whip me so much, so he changed the co-counsel at the last minute." A pang of sympathy for the detective rose in her chest. "Don't worry, I help Polly and Daddy all the time with their cases."

Really? What can you do? Sora miserably recovered from his paralysis and slid out a stack of cards from the envelope given to him by Zack. He read the explanations printed on the thick paper and wondered if the prosecutor would buy such utter crap.

"I'm better than Polly when perceiving things," Trucy confidently declared and Sora didn't have the energy to argue.

He decided to trust her. Her lapis-lazuli eyes glittered in fierce determination.

At the witness stand, Detective Gumshoe kept a strict eye on the prosecutor's viper whip and positioned himself to dodge it in case she whips him for breathing the wrong way.

He flipped a tiny notebook and began, "The victim died by multiple cuts and stabs to her body, pal," he delicately scratched the stubble on his chin, "she bled lots." He paused to decipher an illegible scribble and blanched when Franziska clutched her shoulder irritably. "There are also a lot of scratches all over her body and the crime scene. Scratches on the pavement and walls," he clarified, "and we've tested knives and other swords on the concrete, none of them could make so many scratches on the bricks and not chip, pal." Gumshoe finished his statements and carefully stowed his notebook in the pocket of his ever shabby trench coat.

Trucy leaned aggressively over the defense's bench and the detective pretended she never existed. "How could he do this to us?" she protested. "He's testifying against us, but," she broke into a smile, "there is a contradiction buried in his testimony."

Her confidence reassured Sora. She and Mr. Wright were not so different.

"How thick were the scratches on the pavement?" Sora cross-examined. In the dock, his brother tapped furiously on the smartphone, oblivious to his surroundings.

Wagging her finger condescendingly, Franziska countered, "Fool, is the thickness of the scratches really important? Or are you simply stalling for time? The victim died from stab wounds," she held a photograph, "the wounds were thick-"

"Objection!" Sora slammed his hand on the desk and Franziska twitched. "I want to know how thick the scratches and the stab wounds were," he pressed. "Please answer the question," he buried his face in his muffler to protect him from the prosecutor's acid glare.

"The scratches were really fine pal," Gumshoe replied after a moment of silence. "As for stab wounds," he scratched the back of his head, "they are wider but," the detective narrowed his eyes, "I'm sure they did not come from a weapon normally used for committing crime."

"Silence fool," von Karma hissed, "I did not give you permission to speak." Her mid-back length hair quivered. "There," she directed her words to Sora, "what can you say now?"

Sora presented the photograph of Void Gear and a ripple of gasps erupted from the court. "You are saying this is the murder weapon?" he rhetorically asked, the pit of his stomach coiling into anxious knots when the prosecutor smiled. "As you can see, the teeth of the blade is too thick to create fine scratches." A photo of the crime scene appeared and muffled conversation broke in the gallery. "The murder weapon is not the Keyblade," Sora announced decisively, palms sweating.

"Of course it might not be," Franziska agreed.

Huh? What?

"Fool, the defendant could be carrying another weapon," she grinned triumphantly when Sora collapsed. "Or it could change shape." She cruelly dismissed Gumshoe from the witness stand with a shake of her head. Light bounced off the gem nestled between her collar bones. "A witness saw the accused summon the weapon out of thin air." Von Karma leaned on her elbows as a familiar face took the stand. "Witness, state your name and profession," she ordered and cracked the whip on the bench; it resounded like a clap of angry thunder.

Percy confusedly gaped at Sora. "You!" he exclaimed, "Yesterday you were-"

His words morphed into a pained gasp when Franziska whipped him.

"State your name and address, foolish fool," she commanded.

Foolish fool? Sora wiped his palms on his slacks.

"Percy Prince," the journalist scooted cautiously. "I work as a writer for Legacy." He adjusted his glasses and nervously waited for permission to speak further.

Von Karma smirked. "Now your testimony," she decreed with a sweep of her arm. "Make it concise, I do not have time to entertain the foolish notions of a foolish fool."

Now I'm the foolish fool?

"Yes...yes ma'am," Percy stammered. "Claudia was in line for a promotion as the editor in chief of Legacy, a highly coveted position," he explained and stood taller when the whip failed to hit him. "On the day of the murder, she had an exclusive interview with Larxene, the most sought after female model in Los Angeles." Prince smoothed his green polo shirt and tie "Claudia is a precise person, she allocates time for everything and when she took too long to return, I searched for her and found her face down, dead!" he articulated, visibly distressed. "And that guy," he pointed a thumb at a glowering Vanitas, "that guy was over her, waving that giant Key... keyblade.

"He put his hand out and the blade came out of nowhere, in a flash of bright light. I swear," Percy insisted when a babble of disbelief passed through the gallery.

"Mr. Clavius, you may begin your cross-examination," the Judge prompted and stroked his beard. "I will remind you to err...speak up," he stage-whispered and the attorney flushed in embarrassment.

"Technically, he's not lying." Sora nervously crumpled a sheet, the arguments he charted on it were useless. "Urk...he's not lying," he repeated and appealed to Trucy for support.

She tapped a finger on her chin. "Why was Percy there?"

Why was...he… there?

Quailing under von Karma's steely glare, Sora pawed the messy stack of papers covering his bench. "Mr. Prince," he glued his eyes on a diagram marking the paper, "do you and the victim normally write articles together?" Percy weakly shook his head. "Then why were you there on the day of the crime?"

Franziska cracked her whip and it barely missed Sora. He jerked back, clutching his attorney badge like a life-line.

"Objection! The line of questioning is irrelevant," she grinned savagely. "The witness maybe giving the victim a lift. They could be conferring ideas, the fool could be doing all sorts of things," she finished with a decisive toss of her head.

Including murder, Sora silently seethed.

"Hold it! But, it's important-" he started and the prosecutor whipped the Judge.

"Your questions are overruled Mr. Clavius," the Judge massaged his stinging arm and Sora petulantly scowled at him. "The prosecutor deems it irrelevant."

Coiling the whip once again, Franziska presented the photo of Void Gear on the courtroom screens.

Immediately the attorney noticed a shift in the atmosphere. Fear and uncertainty clouded the room like insidious smoke. The weapon's appearance helped little, blood red and raven wing black, surrounding glinting, turquoise eyes. Anyone seeing Void Gear will agree the wielder must be a wicked person.

Were other Keyblades the same? Or each one different? Sora gritted his teeth, he should have spent more time questioning his brother on the nature of Keyblades.

"This weapon may change shape; it did come out of thin air-"

"Objection!" Sora interjected with a squeak and cleared his throat. "The Keyblade-"

"-is the probable murder weapon," the prosecutor concluded.

No! Of course not! The words Sora lined in his head scattered, floating out of his reach like puffs of an idea. He clenched and unclenched his fists, shoulders drooping when von Karma's knife-edge gaze cut him.

"You honor," Trucy piped loudly, "I believe you remember Daddy's...Mr. Wright's request when Mr. Clavius first set foot into court?" She smiled easily at the Judge. Von Karma's clutched her whip, her arm stiff. "If I may remind you," she touched the brim of her hat, "he said pointless accusations will agitate Mr. Clavius and derail his train of thought." From the viewing gallery, Phoenix smiled proudly at his daughter; she formally bowed and winked at Sora from the corner of her eye.

Relieved and taking long, deep breaths, Sora focused on the courtroom wall, slightly to the left of Franziska's head. "The Keyblade is a product of the Keyblade Wielder's Association." His irises lapsed to the stone faced prosecutor and he snapped them back in place. "They are a highly confidential government organization, with ties to the police." The fear and revulsion in the court dampened. "The accused is a member of the KBWA," he read off a card, "and was given an experimental weapon to test, this is the Keyblade." Sora pointed to the picture.

A few people still wore disbelief on their faces.

"Mr. Prince is mistaken in thinking the weapon comes from thin air," Sora venomously reasoned. "Weapons don't appear from air, they are not magic."

Percy clutched his tie.

"The Keyblade springs from a tiny device concealed within the palm." In the defendant's dock, Vanitas appeared as baffled as the rest of the court and Sora wanted to smack the confusion off his twin's face. At least appear like you know what I'm talking about! "It is constructed out of a...a," he squinted at the KBWA issued cards, "a metal known as Orihalcum, whose existence is staunchly concealed by the Los Angeles government. This metal has properties of expansion and shrinkage and," here he faltered, "and...it purifies an experimental race of creatures known as... as Umbrae..."

Cross-legged in the gallery, Zack raised an eyebrow. "Can't he lie a little more convincingly?" he questioned as Tifa gravely watched the proceedings. "I thought all lawyers could spout them in their sleep?" The vice-chief snorted and strand of hair lifted from her head. "Also, what nonsense is Squall trying to portray... umbrae?" Zack lowered his voice when heads turned. "Seriously? Look at the Puppy, he's the most confused of them all."

"Mr. Clavius," Franziska cut in sharply, "what is this foolery known as Umbrae?"

"I will call another witness to explain," Sora wheezed and pulled the scarf from his neck. So hot. So hot and suffocating. The courtroom whirled around him.

He wished all of it to be over and glanced at Vanitas, standing stiffly in the dock.

"Witness," the prosecutor crossed her arms, "state your name and profession."

The Judge, the gallery, the bailiff all gawked at the female; Sora smiled nervously, was calling Larxene to court really a good idea?

"Larxene," she offered and smoothly flicked her long, golden blonde hair. "Fashion model, that idiot was supposed to accompany me but he had work," she grumbled and the bailiff swooned when she glared at him.

An anticipatory silence blanketed the courtroom as everyone held their breath for the literal goddess planted in the witness stand. For once, Sora exhaled in relief, at least the prosecutor won't pounce on him if he mispronounced a word.

Von Karma irritably clutched her shoulder at the unexpected development. "Witness," she barked, "on the day of the murder, did you meet the victim? And," she barreled on when Larxene opened her mouth, "explain these Umbrae to the rest of the court."

Lips pressed into a displeased smile, Larxene lazily checked the platinum watch encircling her dainty wrist and long after the prosecutor questioned her, began to reply. "Legacy covers the latest fashion models and trends, Claudia has worked with me and," her mouth twisted into an adorably sour pout, "Axel before. We are..." she searched for the appropriate words, "well acquainted."

She smiled thinly at the defense who uselessly shuffled a mountain of papers on his bench.

"As for the Umbrae," Larxene's electric blue eyes rolled to the ceiling, "The science department of Org XIII teamed with the government to create a bunch of organic drones for the safety of the city." Her smile could freeze flames. "Unfortunately they escaped the Level 4 laboratory in a tragic accident." The model dramatically raised her hand to her powdered forehead. "The CEO requested the KBWA to help eliminate these pests. There," Larxene's nails dug into the wood, "I answered your questions, let me return to work."

The prosecutor found it difficult to follow the model's words. "Organic drones?" von Karma demanded incredulously. "Foolish fool, you expect me to believe this foolery of organic drones? They conveniently escaped the laboratory on the night the murder took place?" She cracked her whip and Larxene elegantly stepped out of the line of fire. Franziska pounded the bench irascibly "This...this is..."

"The truth," Sora completed and suppressed a victorious smile. "Vanitas was there due to a request from his work to test a prototype weapon," he checked his cues, "and to help clean an accident on part of Organization XIII-"

"Hold it!" The prosecutor whipped the floor, her pale face sweating. "I want proof of this-"

"Objection!" Sora piped back. "I... this is a confidential issue, if you have a problem with it, take it up with the government, ask them for proof!"

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

"Order in the court! Prosecutor von Karma, your objection is overruled." The Judge stated when voices welled in the courtroom's paneled walls. "I've never heard of organic drones before," the Judge pondered and stroked his beard. "All these newfangled weapons, I don't understand any of them," he shook his head ruefully and stilled when the prosecutor coiled her whip.

It's okay your honor, none of us understands how those work either, Sora's head swam.

"To better illustrate how those heart... umbrae scratched the walls and corpse, I present this evidence." A photo of a black mass and yellow, lamp like eyes flashed on the screen and he drew attention to a long, thin tendril. "They have claws, which are used to scratch the pavement and the victim's body. As for the murder weapon," Sora refused to see the prosecution's hostile, pitying smile, "I found this in a nearby trash can."

He held a clear plastic bag with a pocket knife.

The prosecutor grunted in surprise and gripped her gossamer sleeve as if in pain. A turquoise bangle slid down her forearm. "Scruffy!" she bellowed. "Why haven't I been informed of this?"

Gumshoe cowered in the gallery.

"If you compare the victim's wound thickness and the width of this pocket knife, you will see they are nearly identical." Sora slammed his hand on the desk, his palm stung. "This is the murder weapon, Vanitas has a giant Keyblade for his use and it makes no sense why he would carry around such a small thing-"

"The hell would I want to carry that puny thing around?" his twin sneered and ducked elegantly as the whip soared over his head. "Heh, I'm trained in combat, if you want to hit me; you'll have to do better, whip-lady." He smirked, tilting his head haughtily when von Karma glowered.

Quiet, just be quiet!

"...Therefore, he was not carrying an additional weapon, uh..." Sora checked the knife again, "there were no fingerprints found on the knife." He deflated and wracked his brains for something decisive to say. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind and he held the evidence tighter, scarf loose around his neck.

Meanwhile, Trucy stood on tip toes and surveyed the people in court. In the dock, Vanitas' anxiety manifested in the way he obsessively twirled his tie. Larxene checked her nails while the people surrounding her discreetly snapped photographs, she ignored them. Percy Prince's adams-apple bobbed when the pocket-knife flashed on screen, he slowly patted his pockets, eyes never leaving the screen.

"Percy is concerned," she murmured over the prosecutor needling the defense. "Get him back on the stand," Trucy advised as Sora wilted against a verbal onslaught and turned to her, irises glassy. You can do it." She gently tightened his muffler and he instinctively tucked his chin.

Shivering involuntarily, Trucy spun, tugging her glove nervously when the accused's golden eyes punctured her like spikes.

"The defense requests Percy Prince to take the stand once again," Sora mumbled and repeated his request in a louder voice when the Judge raised his gavel. "I would like to confirm his testimony."

Percy's eyes grew wide behind his designer spectacles; for a moment, he relaxed when the prosecutor gritted her teeth at the attorney, but broke into cold sweat when she grinned humorlessly and wagged her finger. "Percy Prince," her voice rang stridently in the chamber, "take the stand, we shall destroy any foolish notions propagated by the foolishly incompetent foolish fool."

Adjusting his glasses and smoothing his shirt, he took the stand again, resting his precious camera on the rim.

"The defense may begin the cross-examination," the Judge reminded while Sora sorted through the flurry of folders and files. "As soon as possible," he nodded when the attorney pleaded for a moment.

Sora introduced an image to court; Apollo grinned alongside a blue van.

Justice sagged in his seat, hair horns drooping when Athena and Wright turned to him with raised eyebrows.

"If it isn't Mr. Justice, the one who repeatedly threatens my eardrums," the Judge chuckled. "He could teach you a thing or two about speaking up Mr. Clavius," he proposed and Apollo scowled.

"Mr. Prince, is this van familiar?" the defense asked.

The witness blinked confusedly.

"Well?" Franziska cracked her whip. "Answer the question."

"Yes." He swallowed. "It's my van."

Sora smiled like a raptor spotting weak prey. "On the day of the murder, several pedestrians saw this van, but it makes sense, you admitted you followed Ms. Stone to work. Interestingly," he tapped the photo, "the van was seen again the day after the crime; and we ran into each other when I was trying to investigate the victim's murder, this was the... the third day after the murder occurred."

"You didn't tell me you were an attorney," Prince spat and gripped his camera. "You said-" a whip cracked his knuckles.

"Silence fool," the prosecutor commanded as he yelped in pain. "Let the foolish attorney speak. What are you trying to prove, Sora Clavius?

Chilled by the way she used his full name, Sora inhaled deeply. "I'm naming the witness as a murderer," his low voice sunk in the outrage of the viewing gallery. "He...Percy Prince..." A chorus of loud murmurs drowned his argument.

The gavel rang three times. "Order! Order!" the Judge appealed, "the court will be adjourned for a break of five minutes."

A cold coffee pressed against Sora's cheek and he gratefully popped the seal and drowned it in several gulps. His co-workers surrounded him in a loose semi-circle, wary of Vanitas who sat squashed against him with an array of cold drinks rolling on the red couch.

Phoenix brazenly picked an energy drink from the pile and passed it to Trucy; he blinked warmly when she thanked him. "You are doing remarkably well," he praised and Sora modestly stammered his gratitude.

"Having Vanitas accused of murder motivates me to work extra hard," he muttered, shaking his head at another drink. "No thanks, I'll feel nauseous," he protested. However, Vanitas opened another coffee and obliged Sora to drink it.

"Are you okay with all these people around?" Vanitas waved his hand at the crowded court lobby. "If you want, I'll chase everyone out for you," he offered and paling, Sora shook his head. Athena giggled at the request and the black haired young man turned to her. "What's so funny?" he asked, "he gets nervous and he hates being touched by other people.

Oh...Trucy remembered how she smoothed Sora's scarf around his neck. No wonder he was enraged.

"Nothing," Athena smiled. "I'm happy to see Sora really comfortable with someone, it's amazing, his noise levels are non-existent."

Vanitas scowled at the compliment, frown melting when turning back to his brother.

01:00 p.m.

District Court

Courtroom no.1

"Court will reconvene for the trial of Vanitas Clavius," the Judge boomed.

"The prosecutor is ready your honor," von Karma cracked her whip; it missed Sora by a hair's breadth.

"The... the defense is ready your honor," Sora echoed, the words lodging in his throat.

The Judge stroked his greyish white beard, in the courtroom, the air conditioner hummed at full blast, yet, a sticky silence pervaded the chamber. "To summarize, before the break, you named the witness as the murderer?" The attorney nodded. "You may continue, but remember," he held his gavel with two hands; "such accusations carry a heavy penalty when not properly supplanted with evidence.

Afternoon sunlight diffused through the windows, the golden scale motif embossed on the Judge's panel gleamed, as if reminding the defense of what was at stake.

"Mr. Prince, testify about what exactly you did the day of the murder," Franziska directed. "Make it quick."

With a self-important air, the witness started, "Ms. Stone and I were supposed to produce articles for the next edition of Legacy." He fiddled with his camera. "She had an interview with Larxene while I was to conduct an interview with Axel," he continued after a heartbeat. "I returned to my van after finishing my work and waited, while Claudia never returned. Wondering why she took so long, I started searching for her and wound up in the backstreets and that man," he hissed and pointed a finger at Vanitas, "was over her with the Keyblade." Prince calmed and touched the edge of his pocket. "I was so shocked, I snapped pictures and ran away, I feared for my life you see..."

"Ooh..." Trucy breathed. "His testimony has more holes than Swiss cheese."

"I'm craving a grilled cheese sandwich actually," Sora admitted. "Vanitas cooks really well," the duo observed the defendant, resplendent in his black suit and crimson tie, "he doesn't look like it does he?" Loosening his muffler, Sora held a piece of evidence for all to see. "You conducted an interview with Axel?" he questioned and Percy slowly nodded. "Why then, does Stone have an interview draft with him?"

Percy nearly dropped his precious camera.

Sora's voice dropped into a low murmur. "I understand why you feared for your life, you were so disorientated you forgot to retrieve your pocket knife which somehow ended in the trash-"

"Objection!" Franziska interjected.

"-and you constantly returned to the crime scene, days after the murder to perfect your alibi." Sora ignored her, bright blue eyes viciously drilling in the witness. "You weren't supposed to be there on the day of the murder; you've been obsessively following Ms. Claudia wherever she goes and trying to sabotage...owww!" He shrunk in alarm when a whip struck him across his face.

"Hey!" Vanitas screamed from the dock. "Fight me you..." he cursed and slumped over the railing, mumbling incoherently. A dart protruded from his pale neck.

Strapping the gun in a thigh holster, Tifa smoothed her dress across her lap.

"Evidence Mr. Clavius," the prosecutor rested her hands on the bench. "You have been spouting a lot of foolery, where is the evidence to back up your foolish prattling?" the Judge nodded compliantly at her statement. "Show me evidence." von Karma narrowed her eyes.

In the dock, Vanitas shambled to a chair and collapsed in it. He pulled the dart in his neck and turned it over weakly. Smiling for a worried Sora's benefit, he dazedly raised a thumb to indicate everything was alright.

"This is a USB of Claudia's articles," the defense dangled a drive in the air, "it was found in Mr. Prince's car." The witness paled. "This," Sora held a document in full view, "is a self-recommendation letter." The welt on his cheek stung like liquid fire. "Percy said Ms. Stone was in line for a promotion, he failed to mention he was also eligible."

Von Karma glared at the witness, "is this true?"

"Yes ma'am," he meekly replied.

Two self-recommendation letters flashed side by side on the courtroom monitors and the Judge read them. "They are similar," Sora stated the obvious. "This proves you have a motive for murder," he squeaked, his momentum halting, wondering why the prosecutor remained suspiciously silent. The whip hung in her hand, strangely slack. "...When the pocket-knife was first shown as evidence, Mr. Prince, you touched your pocket." Sora held the wood handled knife with a pair of gloves. "This is yours. You, unable to handle Stone's promotion, killed her to secure your own and the defendant, who happened to be there by circumstance, became the scapegoat."

The reserved silence in the courtroom scared him. Sora stood in the middle of a proverbial spotlight, shriveling under the glare of the gallery. He gulped and squared his shoulders.

"You stabbed her with the knife," he read from the autopsy. "It says here the victim died from multiple stabs. The scratches on Claudia's body and the crime scene, came from the heartless...err...the umbrae. Right Mr. Prince?"

The man's polo shirt bore dark circles of sweat. "I never saw them." He gripped his camera so tightly, Sora feared it might break. "Those shadow things," he babbled. "Yes...yes...I killed her. Dumb broad," he hotly whispered under his breath. "She always jumped ahead of me, did you know I trained her. YES! Me! And who gets the promotion, the ungrateful little minx!"

The camera tumbled to the floor, shattering and pieces rolling across the tiles as the bailiffs hurried to restrain the hysterical man. They marched him out, his voice reverberating through the corridors.

Banging the gavel to control the chatter, the Judge implored for total silence. "The verdict," he declared and stroked his beard as the attorney tensely ogled his shoes, the muffler unraveled like a thread from his neck. "I now pronounce the defendant..." Sora bent over, holding the bench for support, "not guilty!" the Judge announced amidst a whoop of cheers and a rain of confetti.

Glitter swirled from above, sprinkling Trucy's top hat and Sora's hair. It settled on Franziska's records as she gathered them dignifiedly. Leaping out of the dock much to the bailiff's chagrin, Vanitas clasped Sora's shoulders tightly, eyes shining in gratitude.

His twin wilted to the floor. Spent from all the people. Vanitas joined him, confetti dusting the bottom of his slacks.

Keyblade

Midnight

Los Angeles

In the cosmos, a star fell. The fallen star bloomed in a hand flopped across the bed. It grew, first a dim pearl of light and elongated. A silver shaft emerged, a yellow handle.

The Kingdom Key.

Heartless gathered around the individual, mute, frightened witness to the birth of the King. He slumbered on, unaware, fingers tightening on the handle. The shadows screamed silently. Wind buffeted palm leaves, waves crashed against the shore, knocking a trio of wooden boats against the pier.

The Keyblade rested on the bed, cold and shining in the murky light of the endless night.

A/N: Franziska rocks, I love her. Did they bring her back as a prosecutor for any of the new games? If not, they should. Every attorney should learn to fear the power of the whip!

Once again, please read and review, comments and criticism is always appreciated.