Chapter Text
What am I doing here?
That was a thought that plagued Kristoph’s mind as he stood in front of a particular door. He had his hand raised to knock on it, though he debated whether or not he should. He could accidentally rip open a scar long forgotten just for being in the same vicinity as Klavier. Why was he here? To apologize? How is an apology going to repair years of manipulation and mistreatment?
Kristoph sighed lengthily. His gaze was downcast and his glasses were crooked- they had been broken before, and Kristoph had taped the frame to the best of his ability. One of his lenses was cracked as well which gave it the appearance of a spider’s web.
As for his hair, it was far from perfect. Kristoph had nowhere to go now that he was out of prison. He hasn’t bothered trying to tidy it despite the perfectionist side of him practically screaming at him to do something about it. It was messy and disheveled, the usual curl of his blonde hair was messily strewn over his shoulder and back. It wasn’t perfect, but it sufficed.
Kristoph had been left to his own thoughts for a long time. His thoughts weren’t necessarily the nicest and they made him do horrible things and not just to himself. He had murdered someone before and was a manipulator- was incredibly good at it, too. He wasn’t proud of himself, though. Perhaps, back then, before his reflection, he would’ve been. But now that he had time to think without being forced to listen to the voices in his head, he wasn’t proud of the choices he made.
He didn’t know where to start when it came to fixing his mistakes and it scared him. He never noticed whenever his hand would grip his arm or how he’d dig his nails into his skin or the fabric of his shirt so hard that it’d bruise the skin no matter how many layers of clothing he wore. He never cared to notice. It wasn’t as bad as it could be, though it was still bad.
With his nervousness that he painstakingly felt, he was doing the bad habit again.
Despite his nervousness, Kristoph raised his hand once again to the door in front of him. He knocked on it, lightly at first, but by the third knock, it was more firm. And then he waited. He waited for what felt like eternity but was only a couple minutes. And yet, those minutes seemed to drag on and on and on. Kristoph hated the silence.
And then, a voice.
“Herr Forehead, is that you?”
The familiar voice of Klavier spoke up behind the door which was the only thing separating the two brothers. Herr Forehead was Apollo Justice, he remembered. Someone he mentored and someone else he had hurt.
“Unfortunately, it isn’t.” Kristoph said once he found his voice and that same dreadful silence filled the air. It was deafening to say the least. Kristoph hated it.
“What do you want, Herr Kristoph?” Klavier asked skeptically. Being called “Herr Kristoph” was utterly painful. Klavier always called him ‘Bruder’ or something of the sort, and Kristoph’s name left a bad taste in his own mouth anyway.
“I… got out of prison.” Kristoph breathed out and he could feel his chest and throat tightening with uneasiness and despair.
“Ja, I can hear that.” Klavier responded and Kristoph couldn’t tell if there was bitterness behind his words or not.
“I… don’t know where to go. I-”
“So you want help from me?” Klavier asked without opening the door.
“No, that’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
“I came here to apologize.” Kristoph whispered upon swallowing down his pride. "For everything."
That caught Klavier off-guard. His breath hitched and Kristoph was faintly aware of it but continued regardless. "I know that what I did was horrible and you have no right to forgive me, but I wanted to come here first. I have... a lot of making up to do. I don't have anywhere to go but I'll think of something. I always do. I just... wanted you to know that you're the better man of the two of us, Klavier. You always were and always will be. I've had a time to reflect in solitude, but I'm sorry."
For the first time in a long while, Klavier heard the genuine, broken tone in Kristoph's voice. There was no drive to be perfect from Kristoph and he sounded truly, utterly sad. Klavier almost pitied him.
However, an apology wasn't going to fix everything Kristoph had done. Klavier was a civil man, though, and that inclined him to open the door just as Kristoph was about to leave upon getting no answer from the other man.
Kristoph turned to face Klavier and the guitarist had to hold back his look of surprise towards how imperfect Kristoph truly looked. They both looked similar and often were confused for the other, but in this moment, they couldn't have felt further apart besides during that one damned trial. Kristoph looked incredibly messy, and his clothing was either poorly stitched or torn in places that needed more than just a few stitches. Again, that pity arose within the prosecutor.
"What are you waiting for?" Klavier asked and stepped back to give Kristoph access to coming into his house. "You're coming, ja?"
The ex-defense attorney stared, clearly dumbfounded and unsure of how to respond. He swallowed roughly and it felt like his feet were cemented into the step he was standing on. He dared a glance towards Klavier's face and the expression was hard to read, though he was watching expectantly. That was what motivated Kristoph to take one step forward, and then another, until he was in the house far enough for Klavier to close the door behind him.
Klavier told Kristoph to wait in the living room- quite an ironic name for a room with someone like Kristoph in it- and then made his way to the kitchen to make some tea.
In the meantime, Kristoph glanced around the room. He didn't bother sitting and walked around the living room, though didn't touch anything. Music note designs were plastered to the wall in brilliant arrays and would make a song or tune if Klavier played it on his guitar. There was a guitar case leaned against the wall as well and Kristoph knelt beside it. He didn't open it but from the faded parts of the black case, he could tell Klavier was still practicing using this guitar. Whether it was the same one Kristoph had given him those years ago, he was uncertain.
Kristoph then straightened his posture and made his way to the desk beside the couch. There was a picture framed there, though his breath caught in his throat. It was a family of four, a woman and a man, though their faces were scribbled out in black marker. Kristoph understood why. They weren't the kindest individuals.
But Kristoph was also in the image. It seemed like he a part of him in the image had been ripped but pieced back together with tape with the utmost care. It was a sweet gesture, and despite the ruined parts of the image, it clearly held importance to Klavier. Kristoph didn't know why Klavier bothered keeping the image, though. After all, he was in the image. Certainly Klavier would've wanted to block out his face too?
"Sorry for keeping you wait, Herr Kristoph." Klavier's voice sounded behind him and he spun out of instinct, his muscles tense.
Kristoph hadn't heard him come up behind him and it startled him. He stumbled back a bit out of reflex and hit the small desk, knocking the picture off of its surface. "Ah-" Kristoph cleared his throat and was quick to compose himself. Before Klavier could ask him if he was alright, Kristoph knelt down by the picture and was clearly a bit shaky when he picked it up. "My apologies. I didn't mean to knock this over." He set it back on the desk as perfect as he could make it.
"Ja, it's quite alright. Accidents happen. Nothing bad came of it!" Klavier flashed a bright grin and offered a cup of warm tea to Kristoph. "I made it the way you like it."
"Thank you." Kristoph murmured awkwardly and watched Klavier sit on the couch. The prosecutor patted beside him to gesture for Kristoph to sit beside him and, despite his nervousness, he did just that.
There was a long moment of silence. Neither brother knew what to say in a time like this so Kristoph just stared down at his cup of cooling tea. Once he found the courage, he took a sip and was pleasantly surprised at the sheer perfection that was in the form of this cup of brew. His eyes lit up for just a moment, though it was long enough for Klavier to have noticed.
"Good, ja?" He grinned again.
"Yes, it is indeed good. I wasn't expecting it." Kristoph admitted with a chuckle and dared himself to take another sip. It was as good as the last sip.
After a few more moments of enjoying the tea, Kristoph sighed. He glanced towards the picture again and stared at himself and Klavier. They were both happy back then, as kids. It was bittersweet.
"Why did you keep that image?" Kristoph asked after a moment of eyeing the frame.
"Oh, that?" Klavier paused. For a moment, Kristoph thought he struck a nerve- he was quite good at that, after all. But Klavier continued anyway. "I kept it because I had hope."
"Hope?"
"Ja. Hope." Klavier looked to the ceiling and when Kristoph followed his gaze, more music notes dotted the surface like speckled stars. "I hoped that maybe you'd see the error of your ways. I know that you are different from many, but I wasn't sure how to help you. And soon enough, it was too late."
That was a nicer way to say that Kristoph was broken.
Klavier almost seemed to have read Kristoph's mind, though, because he turned to face him. "Look, it's hard to forgive you for what you've done, but it's easier to forgive than it is to forget. It may not happen now, but if I see you are trying your best to change for the better, that's good enough for me. You're not broken. Sound good, ja?"
Kristoph stared at his brother for a long moment before glancing away. He let out a shaky chuckle and shook his head. "You're wrong... I'm broken. I always was and always will be. Just look at me, Klavier. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out."
"Objection." Klavier challenged and when Kristoph faced him again, he flashed a grin because he had known a simple "objection" would've gotten Kristoph to look at him. It was one of the few things that was able to grab Kristoph's attention so quickly. "You're hurting and you've done things because you were hurt by others. That doesn't define who you are, but it doesn't justify all that you've done. For the time being, you can stay here. I would have to be pretty cruel if I was just going to kick you out when you have nowhere to go." Once again, he flashed his familiar charismatic grin.
Kristoph was stunned to silence and he searched Klavier's face out of instinct to find any ill-intent or hidden words behind his face. He searched and searched but Klavier was genuine. He couldn't really believe it because he was so used to the ingenuine parts of humanity, but Klavier was genuine.
"You would like that, ja?" Klavier softly asked to try and get a response out of the ex-prisoner.
"...I would like that very much, Klavier."
"Then it's settled. Welcome home, Kris." Klavier flashed another grin. "You can stay here for a while, figure out your next move, and so on. Take a shower, too. You stink." He teased lightheartedly and Kristoph laughed. The laugh wasn't that of a madman or of malice, but of genuine playfulness he hadn't felt in a long time.
And during it, if only it was for a moment, the malicious voices were silenced as Kristoph felt at home.