This story is told from Ryuunosuke's POV, with a mix of the Japanese and English versions' names and honorifics, and takes place after case 4 of the first game of the Great Ace Attorney Chronicles / Dai Gyakuten Saiban. So, if you've made it past the case introducing Natsume Soseki, then you should hopefully be spoiler-safe; any new names you see will be either brief OCs or cameos from the Sherlock Holmes stories. But naturally the comment section need not be spoiler-free - so please gush with me over how good both games and the extra episodes are there, if you feel like it of course!

I don't own Sherlock Holmes, the eponymous books, or the Great Ace Attorney games.

8:45 am, Friday, April 4th, 18XX

"Good morning!"

I clumped down the attic stairs to the sunlit rooms of 221B Baker Street, Susato-san's tread a more sedate echo behind me. My inimitable judicial assistant and I wore similar hard-soled boots - indoors, no less - in this foreign British Empire, so perilously strange from our own home of Japan. Yet even so, as in everything, Susato-san managed to retain her light grace where I struggled.

We made our way through the crowded room, navigating past the haphazardly stacked papers, jumbled mementos, and racks of scientific equipment that defined the space as belonging to two of the brightest and most eccentric minds in the realm, if not the world. Straightening the armband that proclaimed me a defense attorney of Imperial Japan (even if the name sewn neatly inside was that of my dear late best friend, Asougi Kazuma, instead of my own, Naruhodou Ryuunosuke), we approached the cloth-covered trunk-turned-table that divided our downstairs neighbours' shared living space, ready to join them in a light breakfast, as had recently become our routine. However, this morning, only one of the two occupants of the flat was present. Forgoing his usual hearty return greeting, he remained oblivious to our entrance. He sat wrapped in in his dressing gown over shirtsleeves, crouched in front of said trunk with his head in his hands, muttering continuously.

"Whatever is the matter, Mr Holmes? Is it something to do with Iris? Is she ill?" Susato-san asked.

"What?" The world-famous detective blinked at her, then turned back to whatever had captured his attention. "Oh no, Iris is fine. Has an early meeting with her editor."

"Ah, I seem to recall her mentioning that last evening," Susato-san recalled. "It was good of you to set out breakfast in her place, Mr Holmes."

"Think nothing of it, dear fellows," the addressed individual responded absently.

"What's got you so preoccupied, Mr Holmes?" I drew nearer, craning my neck to see what had so dominated his focus.

"It's this!" Our neighbour suddenly flourished an object in our faces. "I discovered it in front of the shelves this morning when I came down, and it has been tormenting me ever since!"

We stared at it, cross-eyed. "Do you know what it is exactly, Mr Holmes?" Susato-san asked for the both of us.

"It appears to be a fan - clearly a fashionable one, for ladies!" Holmes clenched his gloved fists in frustration. "But who brought it here and for what nefarious ends, that mystery eludes me!"

"May we examine it?" I asked.

"Certainly, be my guest," said the great detective.

Susato-san and I turned over the curious accessory.

"It seems to be made of… feathers. A bunch of feathers, attached to a wooden base," I said. They were large, pliant and fluffy, without any bends or creases that I could see.

"I believe these are ostrich plumes, Naruhodou-sama," Susato-san said, consulting her ever-present notebook. She really has an entry on everything under the sun in there. "They're far softer than our paper and bamboo uchiwa fans in Japan."

"Much less efficient, too," I said. "I think I'd only get hotter if I tried to cool off by flapping this thing."

"Fans can have other uses," Susato-san reminded me. "For instance the iron fan, the tessen, or the long-handled gunbai war fan, which were used to block weapons or signal troops in our own history. Perhaps this fan here is used to discreetly signal other lords and ladies at high society events."

"Secret battles in ballrooms?" I mused. "That sounds terrifying; we get enough of that in the Old Bailey." I had only served in a couple of trials there as of yet, but each was harrowing enough for a poor university English student-ad hoc-lawyer in their own right. "But I know what you mean about other uses for fans. Remember that folded paper fan used for slapping?"

"The harisen? The one used to make the loud "smack!" sound?"

"Yes, that's right. Some upperclassmen in a school club had used one in a manzai comedy duo act at a festival, and afterwards they slapped me with it too. I'd much rather have been slapped with this soft feathery fan instead."

Susato-san struck me with her penetrating stare. "I could imagine you doing quite well as part of a manzai duo."

But as the straight man or the funny man? I decided I'd rather not find out. "I'll stop rambling now. Don't you think these feathers look rather dirty?"

"Yes, you're right. It looks like sand, and perhaps dried clay." Susato-san continued to peer closely at the fan, rotating it to examine the other end. "And look - there seems to be some sort of liquid stain here, at the tip of the handhold."

I recoiled. "Do you think it could be… blood?!"

"Oh, no, surely not," Susato-san reassured me. "It's far too pale for that, and has more of a bluish tint rather than red. And even from here, you can tell it exudes a peculiar scent. Here, try for yourself."

I brought my nose closer to the round wooden grip with a hollowed-out centre, and took a big whiff. "Yes, it has a strong chemical smell, doesn't it? For some reason, it does smell familiar…"

"Yes, to me also. I seem to recall one of Iris' experiments possessing this exact same odour."

"I see." I stepped over to the shelves Holmes had flung his arm towards when describing his discovery, and crouched down. "The carpet here smells faintly of it too." I wrinkled my nose from the lingering sharp acridity as I rose. "Well, I'm afraid that's about as far as I can get with it. Do you see anything else, Susato-san?"

"No, I'm afraid not," she said regretfully. "Thank you for allowing us the detailed examination, Mr Holmes."

"Capital, my dear fellows!" Holmes grinned as he accepted the fan back for safekeeping. "Those were all just the peculiarities I noticed - minus the fascinating fan history anecdotes, naturally. We'll make a world-class investigative pair of you yet!"

I fought back a pleased glow at his praise; I hoped I at least succeeded better than the incandescent Susato-san. "What do you make of it all, Mr Holmes?"

Mr Holmes sipped at his tea that he had poured during our exhaustive search. "Not very much, I'm afraid. That dirt you saw on the feathers actually comes from my soil sample collection, which I employed in an investigation to great effect shortly before I had the pleasure of making your acquaintance. When I entered the room this morning, I found many of my samples overturned and spilt, over there on my shelves; I found no other signs of disturbance or theft, and the door remains locked with no marks of forced entry. I would under normal circumstances attribute this to a nightly escapade of that mischievous feline Wagahai, who is even now curled in innocent slumber in her basket by Iris' room."

"But if that were the case, then Iris' chemicals should be knocked over too. But they're all still tightly bottled up and intact in their racks," I pointed out.

"And it couldn't be Iris; she would never leave the shelf and floor so untidy, no matter how much of a hurry she's in," Susato-san added.

"Precisely!" Holmes snapped his fingers. "Combining all the facts, I am drawn to one unsettling conclusion. Some person unknown, most likely an expensively dressed lady, or perhaps someone posing as likely to carry an expensively dressed lady's things for her, visited our flat and picked the lock, sometime between when Iris had left for her appointment with the Strand, and when I came in for breakfast. This illusive person had some interest in our work here, and attempted to abscond with samples of Iris' experiments and my soil collection, cleverly concealed on the feathers and in the hollow handle, respectively. However, they were interrupted in their endeavour, most likely by me. Sadly, I did not catch them in the act; they were most likely warned in advance by my humming, as I was in a particularly joyous mood this morning, at least until this unwelcome intrusion. However, the interloper was unable to exit with complete success. They must have dropped the fan and upset my bottles when they fled, grasping only the stopper for their secret compartment in the base; the spilled solution on the fan handle, and on the rug testify to that."

"How awful!" Susato raised her deceptively slender fists and scowled. "How could someone try to steal from you and Iris, who do so much for the people of this city!" It was a good job for the unknown thief that she or he had made a quick getaway before Susato-san had arrived, or else I'm sure they would have been subjected to a particularly vicious Susato Takedown throw. For such a slim slip of a girl in a cherry blossom pink kimono, she was a truly formidable force. With her at my side, and with Karuma, my friend Asougi Kazuma's precious heirloom katana and embodiment of his unbreakable resolve, belted at my other, there was no position in the world where I felt safer, nor threat I could not face head-on.

"Is there anything we can do to help, Mr Holmes?" I knew I offered for the both of us. Though I think no-one could match Susato-san in her zeal and admiration for the celebrity detective, she and I shared a deep well of gratitude and affectionate friendship for the mismatched, plucky goggle-sporting pair at 221B.

"First, sit down and partake of this fine breakfast, my good fellows," said Holmes. "Then, once we've finished, I would be honoured if you would both accompany me on my search; I've a few places in mind that it might pay to visit. That is, of course, if you care to, and have no other pressing business today."

I shrugged - all I had in my schedule lacking any trial assignment was yet more studying, and I could use a small respite from the endless array of dusty law tomes. Besides, it was leap day on Monday - if I couldn't justify taking extra time now, when would I ever? "I'm free - Susato-san, did you have other plans today?"

She nodded brightly. "Certainly nothing that cannot be done tomorrow, considering the event this morning! I mostly had shopping planned for today anyway. I'm sure we could pick up a few things for Iris as well, while we are out and she is occupied - I wonder if she left a list?"

"Actually, now that you mention it, I think she had." Holmes paused his slathering of marmalade on his now soggy buttered toast. "Where did she say it was again? I can't seem to recall…"

"Perhaps she wrote where on her blackboard." Susato-san glided over to Iris' neatly ordered and charmingly blush pink side of the room. "Why yes, she did! She says it's in the Persian slipper on the mantlepiece. I'm afraid she also says that she thought you might have forgotten or otherwise lost it, so she's also copied it out underneath. I'll just take this for safekeeping." She retrieved the lengthy list from the footwear above the fireplace and slipped it in her ever-present book.

"Ideal as always, Miss Susato! Now, please, friends, have some of this delicious breakfast before it goes entirely cold, and then we'll be off!"

We finally settled in before the crackling fire and around the well-traveled breakfast table, and did exactly at Mr Holmes invited.