The main room under the Borscht Bowl Club was as it always had been, except that for the mess, and the dead body that was sitting back limply in the chair. The corpse was that of a middle-aged man. He taken one swift, heavy blow to the top of his head. He may have had a few, fleeting moments of consciousness before going to the void, but there was no way of knowing that now. And him surviving would have been too convenient.
The phone rung a few times before the call was taken.
"I seem to be in a bit of trouble."
"Something like that."
"Dead. Someone hit him."
"Hard. Me? Please."
"The cops should be here any minute. I'm in your hands...should it come to that."
"Yes. I'm still at the Borscht Bowl Club. And I'm the basement, at always at this time of night."
"..."
"If I call you, please bring a list of your attorneys. It's not that I doubt you. I just don't want to leave any option unchecked."
Panicked...Palms sweaty...I can admit it. I'm nervous...
"Hi there, Apollo!"
"Ah!" Apollo flinched as the hand slapped him on the back playfully. He flipped around. "Oh...it's you, Klaire."
"The one and only!"
The young woman smiled and put her hands behind her back. Apollo was, as always, entranced by her long blonde hair and tanned face. She was wearing the typical uniform of a bailiff; a white shirt, black tie, and grey pants. Even after seeing her in it before, Apollo thought that it did not look nearly as good on her as the sweaters and slacks she always wore during her off-hours.
"You don't look too bad, all things considered."
Apollo smiled ruefully. No amount of prep work would make Klaire overlook the lines in his face, the sweat on his brow, or the bags under his eyes. At least he had done what he could. He had perfectly styled his brown hair into the two signature spikes that made him unique. He was dressed in his favorite red suit, which he had meticulously cleaned and ironed the night before. His most prized possession, the golden bracelet hung loosely from his left wrist.
"You'll do it, I know you!" Klaire pointed a finger at Apollo. "Here's to Apollo Justice! The defense attorney who never lost a case!"
I've...never won a case either. But Apollo chuckled anyway.
"Ready, Mr. Justice?"
Apollo gulped at someone coming up from behind him a second time in less than a minute. He whirled once more to find Kristoph Gavin standing before him.
Kristoph towered over Apollo, standing just over six feet and dressed impeccably in a pale purple suit, one that made Apollo's look as if it came from a bargain bin. The older man's hair was long and blonde, coiled around his neck, and the gold bridge of his glasses sat right on the tip of his nose. He adjusted them with a flick of his hand, and gave Apollo one of his wide, calm smiles.
"I hope you are ready for the big day, Mr. Justice. Your first trial under my tutelage, and your first client. I apologize for the late notice, but the client specifically requested you when given his options."
"Me?"
Apollo blinked. True, he had graduated as the top of his class, but he was still a lowly trainee in Gavin Law Offices, without a single independent trial under his belt. In fact, it was entirely possible the janitor of the building did not know his name, despite them crossing by at the door every day.
"Indeed."
"Well, I say whoever this defendant is, he's picked the right guy for the job!"
Kristoph's eyes flickered from Apollo to Klaire and back.
"And tell me, Mr. Justice. How is it that you came to know my sister?"
"Huh?" Apollo blinked. He himself looked back between the two figures with him. He did his best to keep his poker face, but he was already imagining and dreading a stern talking-to after the trial was over. "I'm...I'm so sorry, Mr. Gavin, I didn't..."
"See the resemblance?" Klaire giggled and stood next to Kristoph. Apollo had to admit, the similarities had always been there. The same blonde hair, same smiles...but he just could not have imagined it before now. They acted too differently. The cool, collected, uptight, and famous Kristoph on one hand...and the chipper, energetic, bailiff Klaire on the other...
"Never mind that." Kristoph snapped his fingers. "I should tell you that this particular trial should not be taken lightly. Your client has been accused of murder. And I should also tell you that the prosecutor has plenty of experience through which your client will be attacked."
Apollo suppressed a groan. Of course, that was the setup. It had happened before. But...
He stood up a little straighter. The odds were against him, but not insurmountable. It was possible to beat him. If his idol could do it, surely he would have a chance...
"Ah! There he goes now!"
Apollo, Kristoph, and Klaire looked forward to see another bailiff a few meters from them, walking towards the doors that led to the courtroom. He was followed by another man. Apollo took a moment to study him. The defendant was youngish, with a stubbled chin and black hair poking out from the blue cap he wore. The gray sweatshirt and exercise pants seemed a size too big for him.
As the bailiff went through the opening, the defendant stopped a few steps short. He turned, and Apollo could feel the man's eyes analyzing him. The young rookie stood as silently and as straight as he could, not knowing what else to do or say at that moment. Then the defendant grinned, turned back, and moved to join the bailiff on the other side.
"Huh." Apollo chuckled. "That was weird. The defendant looks almost exactly like Phoenix Wright."
Klaire could do nothing but stare. Even Kristoph, Coolest Defense in the West, looked more than a little bemused.
-A multi-chapter story; Chapter 1; story idea by CRed1988 and writing by Jerviss.