Age Twenty
The old wooden floorboards creak underneath his feet as he paces up and down the darkened room. He has tried to ignore it for a long time, but it is true: Ga'ran has managed to gain an advantage over them. Their best men have been imprisoned… their plan to spark a revolution from the inside of the system has failed… will everything they have endured all be for nothing in the end?
He will not yield. He will keep fighting for the revolution until his very death, that much is beyond debate. And yet… he doesn't understand…
His gaze falls onto the old photo pinned to the wall, showing him and his sons in front of their little house in the mountains all those years ago, back when the world has been a little brighter than it is today. He has failed them both.
Nahyuta… he has been so proud of him. Too proud. His pride has led him to just let his son go right into the enemy's den without a second thought, and now? Now, whenever he looks into his son's eyes, it is not his son he sees in there anymore, but a stranger who is nothing more than Ga'ran's puppet. His son is gone, and it's his fault. He has not protected him as much as he should have.
And Apollo? It pains him to even think of his younger son, who he has sent away when he has been only nine years old and not visited even once, despite planning to for years. He wonders what Apollo looks like now – he must be twenty years old, if he's not mistaken. Does he still wear his hair in those horns like he has used to? Has he still got his loud voice and the strange bracelet which he has already been wearing as an infant? Is his favourite colour still red? What is he doing right now, what profession has he chosen for himself? Maybe he has become a musician, like his father?
He does so wish to see him, but he doubts Apollo still remembers him, and even if he does, he must hate him. And he can't blame him for it either. He has failed him as much he has failed Nahyuta, if not more.
But maybe… if he searches and thinks hard enough, maybe he will find a way to get out of this country and fly over to the States. And even if Apollo does not want to see him, he at least will have a chance to apologize and make things right again.
"Dhurke!" he hears Datz's voice. "Everything's ready. It's time!"
"Alright."
I'll see you soon, Apollo. After this mission, I'll come visit. I promise.
He takes one last look at the photograph, and then, he's out of the room.
Hours later, when they've managed to break three of their compatriots out of prison, his mind is consumed by the revolution again, his plan to visit his son forgotten once more.
"If you would take a seat and wait just a moment, sir, Mr. Gavin will be ready for you in just a few minutes," the receptionist says in a bored tone and closes the door behind her before Apollo can even answer. He sits down on one of the sofas, nervously running a slightly shaking hand through his hair as he waits. This waiting room makes him feel so uncomfortable. Even the curtains seem to have cost more than all of Apollo's furniture combined. And yet, here he is waiting for his interview. And all this thanks to Clay.
He has been having money problems again recently – no surprise, really. Yes, he has the money from the scholarship, but that amount only barely manages to cover the fees Apollo has to pay for law school. Until a few months ago, he has managed to earn the rest of the money he needs through a job at a café, but it has had to close down due to insolvency, leaving Apollo without a job again. He has applied to several law offices for a student's job, and they have all rejected him. But Clay has refused to let him give up, snatched Apollo's laptop and sent an application to another law office. And not just any law office, but the most posh law office he has ever seen.
Apollo buries his head in his hands. He doesn't understand why he has even been given an interview in the first place, when all the other not-as-posh places he has applied to have rejected him instantly. He is so out of place here; even the receptionist has seemed to have wrinkled her nose a bit when he has said that he is here for a job interview. And he's not sure anymore if he even wants to do this interview – he won't get the job anyway. How could he even? He doesn't even appear at least a bit professional in his worn out, second-hand clothes, and the black suit jacket he has borrowed from Clay in a fit of desperation and that is way too large for him. He will make a complete fool of himself.
He hears the door being opened again. It's probably the receptionist coming to take him to Mr. Gavin.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles, slowly lifting his head from his hands. "But I think this interview isn't a good idea, I'll just go – "
Apollo stops in the middle of the sentence and freezes, because it's not the receptionist standing in the doorframe. Rather, it's a tall, tan man wearing glasses and a very expensive looking suit, his long, platinum blonde hair styled in a spiral-shaped braid, and an expression of mild surprise and amusement on his face. Then, he smiles.
"Are you sure you don't even want to try?" he asks. "I promise I don't bite."
"Uh…" Apollo stumbles to his feet, the sincere kindness and warmth the other is radiating catching him off guard after being treated with indifference and slight disdain by the receptionist. "I-I'm sorry… A-Are you…?"
"Kristoph Gavin, attorney at law. Pleased to meet you." His handshake is firm and as warm as his smile and his voice. He hates to think about it, but it somehow reminds him of… of Dhurke.
"U-Um, I'm Apollo Justice… oh, but you already know that, I'm sorry… I-I'm making a complete fool of myself… I don't know why I'm so…" Apollo stutters, but the man just chuckles.
"Please, it's alright. It's completely normal to be nervous. But if you'd like, we can continue the conversation in my office."
Apollo manages a nod and follows him through the short hallway and into another room which is as posh as the waiting room, but still feels a bit more comfortable, maybe due to the many bookshelves filled with case files and law books. Mr. Gavin sits down behind the huge wooden desk which is also loaded with stacks of files.
"Please, take a seat," he says and Apollo timidly sits in one of the leather chairs opposite him on the other side of the desk. "Let's see…" He adjusts his glasses and flicks through a document in front of him which Apollo recognizes as his application. "First, I have a question concerning your résumé. Is that alright?"
"Uh, yes, sir. Of course."
"You say here that, aside from being fluent in English, you're also fluent in Khura'inese? This is the language they speak in the Kingdom of Khura'in, isn't it?"
Apollo nods hesitantly. He does not like where this is going.
"Well, I'm interested. How did you acquire this knowledge? It's not exactly a language that's taught in schools."
"I…" Apollo feels cornered. He knows this is not Mr. Gavin's intention at all – he can see nothing but honest interest on his face – but he can't help it. He always feels this way when someone stars to ask questions about his past. "I used to live in Khura'in when I was a child."
"Oh?" Mr. Gavin raises his eyebrows in surprise. "So you grew up there?"
"Y-Yes, sir. But I… left when I was nine." Apollo's fingers nervously start playing with his bracelet. "I-I'm sorry, but… I wouldn't feel comfortable talking about it further…"
"Oh." Mr. Gavin inclines his head, and if he thinks Apollo strange for it, he doesn't let it show. "Of course. I apologize, I didn't mean to pry. I was simply curious. Let's talk about something else then, shall we? Would you mind telling me why you want to become a defence attorney?"
"Oh! Of course!" This is something he can answer easily. "I want to be able to fight for the truth!"
His enthusiasm must have shown, because Mr. Gavin's smile widens. "The truth?"
"Yes! And justice for my client, of course. Truth and justice are the most important goals for an attorney! …Um, in my opinion of course," Apollo adds a bit sheepishly.
Mr. Gavin chuckles. "I agree. Though one must not forget that an attorney also has an obligation to represent the client, and therefore must cede their wishes above all else."
"Yes, of course, but isn't the truth most important? And to work together with the prosecution to find it? …Oh no, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to question your – "
Mr. Gavin holds up a hand, smiling. "Oh no, it's quite alright. In fact, I was hoping that you would argue. Little things like that show me if someone has potential."
"R-Really?"
"Oh yes. Arguing, questioning every statement is the essence of attorney's job. You seem to have everything you need in order to become a great attorney in the future."
Apollo blushes and looks down onto his hands.
"Well, that would be all," he hears Mr. Gavin say. "I think you're well suited for the job, Mr. Justice. Your grades are excellent and you have great potential."
"Job?" Apollo asks, confused.
The amusement is back in Mr. Gavin's eyes. "Yes, the student's job you applied for."
"Oh, of course. Yes. …Wait. You don't mean…"
"You're hired, Mr. Justice," Mr. Gavin explains patiently.
"You're kidding, right?" Apollo blurts out. "…Uh, sorry! I mean – "
Mr. Gavin chuckles. "I assure you, I'm quite serious." He stands up and Apollo follows suit, feeling dazed. This must be a crazy dream.
"This is the employment contract." Mr. Gavin hands him a document and an envelope. "I suggest you read through it carefully. If you have any questions or bothers, feel free to call and we'll make an appointment to discuss it. Otherwise, just put your signature on the last page and send it back to me via letter. You'll find a stamp you can use in the envelope. Do you have any remaining questions?"
Apollo nods. "U-Um… when will I start?"
"Hm, I suppose I should give you a proper introduction to the law firm and your tasks before your first work day. How about you come here again on Monday, same time? Then, we will also set your weekly schedule. I suggest you bring your law school schedule, so we can adjust your hours of labour to it and avoid any potential overlaps with your courses."
"O-Okay, Monday is fine. And what about an outfit, I mean, like work outfit? Do I need one?"
"A suit will do, I think."
"O-Oh." Apollo chews on his bottom lip and lowers his head. Suits, even second-hand ones, aren't exactly cheap and he's already running a deficit.
"Is something concerning you?" Mr. Gavin's voice makes Apollo look back at him in surprise. He must have noticed his unease.
"N-Nothing, i-it's just…" Apollo feels embarrassed. How can he explain to a man who is this well off and who's also his boss that he cannot possibly afford a suit right now?
But it turns out to be unnecessary to explain it, as Mr. Gavin seems to have read his mind. "Are you having money problems?" he asks gently.
"Uh… t-to be fair… y-yes, sir. I'm sorry, I…"
"No, I understand. I was once a student as well, I still remember the struggles. If you cannot afford a suit yourself, maybe you can borrow one for the time being? Maybe from a friend or your father?"
Apollo can't help but flinch. "My friend's clothes don't fit." He gestures at the oversized suit jacket he is wearing. "And I… I'm an orphan."
"Oh, I'm so sorry." Mr. Gavin looks at him with eyes full of compassion and his words sound genuine. "This must be so hard for you."
Apollo cannot answer, forcing back images of Dhurke and memories of waiting for him in the cold courtyard of the group home.
"Right," Mr. Gavin says, "I'll think about what we can do about the suit. For the next weeks, it's completely sufficient if you wear dark trousers and a shirt."
Apollo feels his throat tie up with gratitude. "T-Thank you, sir," he manages to get out.
"No need to thank me, Mr. Justice." Mr. Gavin shakes his hand and opens the door for him. "Oh… forgive me, I've just noticed your bracelet. Very beautiful design. Can I ask where you have it from?"
"Huh?" Apollo looks down at the golden band wrapped around his wrist. "Sorry, I don't know. I've had it ever since I can remember."
Mr. Gavin hums thoughtfully. "I see… Forgive my curiosity. I'll see you on Monday, then. Have a very good day, Mr. Justice."
"You too, sir."
Apollo still feels like he's somehow dreaming all this as he walks back through the hallway and into the waiting room where he has left his coat and his bag. He has a job. He has a job at Gavin Law Offices!
He puts the contract into his bag carefully, so it won't wrinkle, and then puts on his coat, when suddenly, someone behind him says: "Hey, nice bracelet, kiddo."
He turns around, startled. A man Apollo has not noticed at all until now is sitting on one of the chairs. He's wearing clothes that are even shabbier than those Apollo is wearing, and a bright blue woollen beanie with pink letters proclaiming the word "PaPa" covers his hair. His blue eyes look somehow familiar, but are almost half-closed and Apollo realizes that this man surely must be consuming… chemical substances. He's most definitely a client. Not really knowing what to do, Apollo gives him a small smile. "Thanks."
The man smiles back. "Never seen you 'round here before. What's your name?"
"Um, Apollo Justice, sir."
"Ah." The man's smile widens. "That's quite a name, kiddo."
Apollo laughs nervously. "Yeah, many people just think I'm kidding when I tell them my name… but if you'll excuse me, I need to go now or I'll miss my bus. Sorry. Um… have a nice day."
"See ya!" he hears the man call before he closes the door to the waiting room behind him and hurries out. He doesn't understand why everyone's so interested in his bracelet, when he has just gotten a job at Gavin Law Offices!
Holy Mother, he cannot believe how lucky he is! Mr. Gavin has said that Apollo has everything he needs in order to become a great attorney! And overall, he seems to be such a kind person. Though he does remind him of Dhurke – his former caretaker has also used to radiate such warmth and kindness as Mr. Gavin does and Mr. Gavin's calm way to talk does resemble the tone that Dhurke has always used when he explained something to Apollo and Nahyuta.
He doesn't know whether that resemblance to Dhurke is good or bad. It does leave him with a slightly uneasy feeling. He knows Dhurke's true nature, and if someone resembles him, it cannot be a good sign.
Maybe that's why, two years later, when his boss and mentor is led out of the courtroom in handcuffs, he feels not the least bit surprised, but instead just resigned and empty, tears burning at the corners of his eyes. He has somehow known all along.
Mr. Gavin has resembled Dhurke – a liar and a traitor – too much.