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Chapter Text

Apollo always kept his bracelet over his numbers.

It wasn’t out of shame. The people around him clearly thought it- the kids at the foster home, aptly named the ‘dumping ground’ by the kids who found themselves there either avoided him completely, acting like he wasn’t there, or bullied him relentlessly for his ‘freak numbers’ they had never even seen. The adoptive families he went through so quickly always eyed his wrist, wondering if they had taken on some broken child. Teachers had spoken to him so softly when they asked if there was anything they could do. They always stared at his wrist. Never his face.

He shook his head, and said no. He did his work and went home, like every other day. He didn’t ever need their help.

Sometimes, in the dark of night when the lights were out and the foster home was still, he thought about it. The temptation to slip of his bracelet and stare at the numbers were all consuming. He would lightly touch the cold metal and maybe slip it down a little further, until he could only just see the counter embedded in his skin- the numbers ticking down, unstoppable, waiting for the moment when his soulmate would finally arrive.

Most times, he hardened his heart and ignored it. He would shove his hand under his pillow and wait for sleep to claim him, and he would not cry, damnit, he wouldn’t ever cry. He would barely sleep a wink, until the sun came up and it was a new day of school and averted eyes, a burning sensation on his wrist.

A few times, he couldn’t resist. He would pull down the bracelet to see the dark numbers, ticking down every second that told him it would almost be a decade before he met his partner, the one that was supposed to stay with him through thick and thin. The numbers were not always reliable- it was true that they would always reached zero when two people that were made for each other came face to face, but the timing wasn’t always accurate. If fate changed, if one of the pair made a decision that would lead them closer or take them further away- for example, moving to another country- the numbers would change, increasing or decreasing. Apollo had never witnessed it himself, but he could remember the sobbing of one of the other boys when his counter changed from almost five years to seven.

Apollo’s numbers were firm. They had never changed. It would be ten years before the person who was set to be with him for as long as they would live to come into his life.

He pretended he didn’t care, but he couldn’t wait for someone to finally love him.

-

Two years later, Apollo was firmly placed in the Justice household.

He had doubts, for a while. He had never lasted long with a new family- his record was five months. But now, he had made it to a year, and Anita, his mom- although he hadn’t quite yet felt comfortable calling her mom to her face yet- was all smiles whenever she looked at him. Not his wrist. Him.

Everything was fine. It was almost perfect. He got along with her other kids without many problems and he was now almost fluent in Spanish, and he had been moved to a new school. Every face was new. There were still the same old behaviours, everyone obsessed with those numbers, but no one ever pried. Anita looked at him carefully sometimes, but never pressed. He loved her for that.

Everything was fine.

Apollo was eleven when one of those nights, alone and curled up in bed, he let himself peer at those numbers- and they had changed.

He didn’t cry. He wasn’t going to cry. His seven or so years had now changed to twelve, but he wasn’t going to cry, the wet spots on his pillow weren’t tears and they never would be. He thought about the boy back in the foster home, about how Apollo hadn’t quite understood all the drama, and now his eyes were stinging and his cheeks were warm.

Apollo didn’t think about it. He got out of bed, kicking the sheets free and to the floor. He left his room, not bothering to creep like he usually would and went straight for Anita’s room, right across the hall. He passed the other kids rooms, sniffling, but he didn’t care if he woke them up.

He paused at her door, hand clutching his wrist, and dithered. He didn’t know what time it was, but moonlight spilled into the hallway. The intrusion would be rude- but his hand felt heavy, like it was made of concrete. He took in a shuddering breath, and knocked. It was deafening in the quiet.

He heard a faint rustling, and a sleepy noise that sounded like, “Wha?” He took that as a welcome, and reached up to curl his hand around the door knob. He could see his fingers shaking. He entered as she was sitting up, staring with blurry eyes. She saw Apollo, and he could see the concern- he had never come to her in the middle of the night, especially not like this, so distressed.

“My numbers,” He said, and her eyes cleared and flashed with some emotion that went by too quickly for him to recognise. “They’ve gone up.”

His love for her only amplified that night. She never asked to look at them. She only sat up further and opened her arms wide, and let Apollo crawl up beside her. He slumped against his mother and she wrapped her arms around him, not constricting- warm, and safe. Loving.

The flow of his tears came faster. He shook and she shushed him, rocking him back and forth. Anita offered him comfort, murmuring soft words, pressing her lips against his warm forehead.

“Mama,” He cried against her shoulder, and at the time, he hadn’t noticed how her arms tightened around him, drawing him closer.

-

Apollo moved out officially when he was twenty. Some of the older children had remained, but Apollo had passed the bar exam with flying colours, and had been offered a job at Gavin Law Offices. It was too far away for him to stay, barely close enough to visit as often as he wanted. But it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, to work under Kristoph Gavin himself, and Apollo couldn’t turn it down.

It was late evening on a Saturday when they parted. His first day at work would be on the Monday, at 8 o’clock sharp. He would spend the rest of the day and tomorrow unpacking, and missing Anita desperately. One of the other kids had offered to drive him to his new apartment, and she was waiting in the car and Apollo hugged Anita one more time.

“I’ll miss you,” She said into his hair, and his smile was watery. He curled his arms around her and held her for a long time. It had been nine years since he cried in her arms, and neither had forgotten it. It would be three years until he would meet his soulmate.

“I’ll miss you too, mama.” Apollo told her when he pulled away, and her eyes were filled with unshed tears. She pressed her handkerchief to her mouth, clearly struggling to keep herself under control. Apollo pressed a kiss to her cheek, and she one to his, before he slipped away.

Her face was crumpling, but she was still beaming as the car pulled away, eventually rounding a corner, and she was gone.

The drive to his apartment was quiet. It was the start of the silence- his apartment seemed too big, much too quiet for him alone. He played music as he sorted and tidied, but it made little difference. After spending years in a house which teemed with people, he felt like he had been isolated as some kind of punishment. He looked at framed photographs of his mother, looked at her contact on his mobile. He touched his bracelet. He didn’t look at the numbers.

His stomach was full of butterflies, and he couldn’t understand why.

The train journey to work was boring, and full of the exact same nerves. It was twenty minutes and a five minute walk, and Apollo had brought nothing to entertain himself. He was much too anxious to commit himself to any kind of book, the words jumping all over the page. He had no one to text, and hated all the mini games on his mobile. The newspapers had all been claimed by fellow passengers in the morning rush, and Apollo wasn’t going to a say a word to the man sitting next to him, who only picked at the skin around his nails.

Apollo stared at his shoes, instead, and hoped it would be over soon.

Two stops before he was due to get off, the feelings magnified. His throat felt tight and he could only just manage breathing. His heart was thumping twice as loud in his chest. For a moment, he didn’t know what the cause was, and his instinctual reaction was fear- but then he felt something, tugging in his gut, and his eyes fell on the metal on his wrist. Apollo hesitated, for a moment- he was at loathe to check his wrist in public. He toyed with it, fingernails catching on the etchings, and wondered.

He had a strong feeling the butterflies in his stomach wouldn’t go away until he checked, and he was right. He huffed out a sigh, and rolled his sleeves up an inch, and pulled down his bracelet.

His soulmate numbers were fritzing out.

After that night, Anita had hunted down information on soulmates and numbers on the internet- it was an overflowing source of knowledge, especially on such a universal topic. She had sat him down and explained what everything meant- what happened when you met your soulmate, what to do and what it meant if their numbers didn’t match up to yours, and what was happening when the soulmate numbers were acting irregularly, just like Apollo’s were. It was a good thing she did, otherwise Apollo would have begun to panic in the middle of the train.

He cast his mind back, as he stared. She had told him gently, with a tiny touch to his knee that it meant that the soulmate was in the process of making a decision, one that would have ramifications on their meeting. The numbers had no idea where to settle, as the decision was not yet made.

Apollo watched, and his numbers never settled. The counter was completely useless.

His soulmate was a temperamental little bastard, he thought, and slipped his bracelet back over his wrist. He stared out of the window at the passing scenery, and pushed all thoughts of love and destiny out of his mind.

Apollo would be checking the counter regularly throughout the entire day, under Kristoph’s watchful and amused eyes.

-

Apollo had been so eager to take on his first case. Nervous, yes, but he wanted to take the next step beyond practically secretarial duties aiding his boss with other cases. Kristoph was a perfect teacher, he thought, and with his guidance he would never go wrong.

Now, he half wished he hadn’t dared.

Apollo was curled up on the sofa, staring blindly at the television. Canned laughter and terrible jokes greeted his ears, but he heard none of it. His ears hadn’t quite been working right since he had punched Mr Wright- his own client. He only partly regretted it.

Apollo’s life was on track, it was going right- and now, he was jobless and friendless in an unknown city. He knew it was the right thing to do- he couldn’t have left an innocent man to go down, not while he was working under the killer. But his only source of money was gone, and he highly doubted anyone would want to hire him, the man who turned against his own boss halfway through the trial. His present was bleak. His future wasn’t even bleaker.

Night had fallen quickly, and before Apollo knew it it was midnight. Episodes of some awful show slipped by quickly, and soon it was replaced with something even more awful. Apollo didn’t want to move from his place on the sofa and he hadn’t even undressed properly, only shucking off his waistcoat, but he knew he shouldn’t sleep here in his clothes. He lay there for a few moments longer, before forcing himself up.

He dressed entirely efficiently, stripping off to his underwear and crawling into his duvet. He would call his mother tomorrow, he thought, even though he knew she had probably heard already. It may have been all over the news. Apollo had been too afraid to check.

He knew he wasn’t going to get a moments rest, not that night. He felt wide awake, on edge. His mind was teeming with different emotions and thoughts- betrayal, anger, fear, disbelief. They all buzzed around his head, demanding his attention, but he didn’t want to think about a damn thing. But he had to.

What would he do? He wanted to stay and search for another job, no matter how unlikely it would be. Perhaps he should return home and search there- but he had to stay in the apartment for another few months, and he felt like he had only just moved out. He was in a shitty situation, he knew, and the following months wouldn’t be easy.

He resisted the urge to shove his face into the pillow and scream. He did- but he refused to let himself shout, no matter how appealing the idea was. He would think on it tomorrow in the light of day, after calling him mom.

A moment later, Apollo’s wrist began to burn, and that odd feeling was back in his belly. He groaned into the pillow. Not now, soulmate, he thought, even as he was already checking.

His numbers were bugging out again- his soulmate was struggling with a decision. It seemed like they were doing that a lot. Apollo wondered if the same was happening for them, if all of his thoughts about moving home would increase or decrease their own numbers. He felt a little guilty, but he saw it as revenge for all the times his own numbers freaked out on him.

He rest his head on his pillow, cheek pressing into the softness, and watched the numbers jump- the years increasing, decreasing. His heart leapt to his throat when his numbers slowed down and showed a mere two days, only thirty nine hours until meeting, and stayed there for a full minute- but then the number jumped back up again. Apollo wasn’t sure to feel relieved or disappointed. He stuck with relieved, eventually- he didn’t want his soulmate seeing him in such a state.

It never went back to his previous two years, or even a year. It stayed uncertain for hours, Apollo’s soulmate truly torn. By the time they made their decision, Apollo had eventually succumbed to sleep.

He woke past midday to the bright sunlight warming his face, five missed calls from his mother and to find his soul numbers stagnant. Three months, it told him, and Apollo didn’t know what to think.

-

Apollo didn’t like surprises. He never had.

It had been two months since that trial, the one that hardly bore thinking about, and Apollo was still living in his apartment. He likely wouldn’t be there much longer, though, considering the type of money that was going out of his account and the money that wasn’t going in, no matter how hard he wished. He imagined he would be going back to his mother’s for a while, and after that, he had no idea.

Then, he woke up to two surprises.

The first was the call from Wright- help! We’re in big trouble here at the office! Help!- and the panic the ensued from then on was interesting, albeit seriously terrifying. He almost fell out of bed in his panicked rush to get up, his overacting imagination dreaming up all kinds of terrible scenarios.

The second, and he wasn’t sure which was more horrific, was his soul mate counter.

Apollo had been blissfully unaware of the sudden change for a few minutes. He barely looked at the thing, covered as it was. He thought, now very incorrectly, that he still had a month left- that was, until he moved back, and then who knew how long he would have to wait? He thought his soulmate, if their counters matched up, may be disappointed, but Apollo couldn’t help that.

He got ready as fast and efficiently as possible without a single glance to his wrist, making a small and quick breakfast that consisted of one slice of toast and a mouthful of orange juice. He could feel the nerves in his stomach that he usually associated with the mark’s change, but that morning he was so preoccupied with Wright he assumed it was the panic. He rushed around, thoughts wrapped up in the law offices and what the hell was happening that Wright’s first instinct was to call him, of all people. It couldn’t have been anything good.

He was buttoning his cuffs with the toast in his mouth when his bracelet slipped down his wrist, baring the skin, and when his eyes glanced at it he stopped and stared. The toast fell free of his mouth. It fell to the floor, and the five second rule began, and ended. Apollo didn’t care.

It read five hours and thirty six minutes, counting down each second.

Something had happened to change fate’s course- something around them had shifted, and he was going to meet his soul mate today. In a matter of hours, no less.

He stared at it for a long time, and struggled to swallow down the mix of fear and anticipation.

-

He wanted to run away, at first. He wanted to go see whatever had happed to Mr Wright, briefly solve whatever problem he had and then run back across town to lock himself in his apartment and refuse entry to anyone who came knocking. No destiny today, no thank you.

Apollo wondered if that would work, running away. Would the counter adjust? Or would wherever he ran his soulmate be? Thinking about it gave him a headache, alongside the anxiety. He wondered if his soulmate, his other half, felt the same way.

He supposed he would cross that bridge when he came to it. Right now, he needed to visit the Wright Law Offices, and see what all that panic was about.

He felt like he was going to be ill the entire journey there, and he could only pray he looked presentable as he knocked on the door. He could only blame his occupied thoughts that he didn’t notice the sign beside it that said Wright Talent Offices.

Upon opening the door, Trucy looked immediately aware something was up. He wasn’t surprised- she wasn’t blind after all. She gave him a strange look, one that he couldn’t quite place, but he was too preoccupied to care much. She simply smiled and welcomed him. Apollo thought that maybe she was acting extra cheerful to try and soothe him- no one was that welcoming at nine in the morning- but it didn’t do a thing. His thoughts were focused on the stranger who would shortly be blundering into his life. He wasn’t sure of his trembling was due to those nerves, or the nerves of meeting Wright again.

He couldn’t help but touch his wrist, all the way through their conversation. It was his enlightenment, but he couldn’t keep his fingers from the little black numbers, ticking down. He was constantly hyperaware of time passing him by. He kept it from Trucy as best he could. He didn’t want her involved in any of his personal life. Really, he didn’t want Wright involved, he had no idea what was going on, but the call seemed urgent, and if Wright was in the hospital, he had to do whatever he could to help. It was the right thing to do.

Apollo hated that he kept doing the right thing, not the intelligent thing.

The girl’s eyes kept flickering to his covered wrist, and for a while, Apollo feared that she might ask him what was wrong- but she didn’t, and he was deeply grateful for it.

The great Phoenix Wright, however, had no such tact. The very second they were alone, the strange doctor lumbering away, he glanced at Apollo, and narrowed his eyes. Without missing a beat, he asked, “Are you alright?”

A little caught off guard by the sudden direct question, he jumped, and stared at Wright openly, with wide eyes. It eventually sank in, and he tried to be reassuring. He ended up being anything but, judging by the look on Wright and Trucy’s faces. He nodded, much too eagerly. “I’m fine!” He said. “I’m Apollo Justice, and I’m fine!”

After the look of surprise disappeared from Wright’s face, it was replaced by faint amusement. “I’m sure you are.”

Apollo could only imagine what he looked like in that moment- ashen faced, with his hand constantly curled around his wrist, nodding away like an idiot at everything anyone said to him. He could barely find it in himself to care what they thought. He listened to what they told him- the hit and run, the panty theft, the client that may find him soon, and it all went in one ear and out the other. He vaguely understood that he wasn’t getting paid, to his irritation, but it was hard to focus when there was a great shadow leaning over everything he did.

Apollo was only aware Wright had finished talking to him when he realized father and daughter were both gazing at him expectantly. He flushed. He tried to drag up words from the back of his throat, painfully aware of their stares.

“I’m sorry,” He eventually said, in a voice that croaked. He cleared his throat before trying again. “What time is it?”

Phoenix frowned deeply, but checked his phone. “It’s almost ten thirty.”

“…Right,” Apollo said, weakly. He could feel his face doing interesting things against his will, his expression jumping from emotion to emotion- fear, frustration, panic, a tiny mix of excitement that he would vehemently deny if anyone asked- so quickly he could only pray that neither of them could tell them apart. He saw them exchange a glance. He swallowed. “Thank you.”

“Have you got an appointment for something?” Trucy asked quite innocently as they walked out of the hospital’s main doors. The sunlight was gentle on their faces, and the sky was a deep blue. It was a fine day to meet his soul mate- and yet, Apollo could barely feel anything but stricken.

“Something like that.” He said after a moment of hesitation, and there must have been something about his tone that made Trucy not want to press any further. He watched her expression change- no doubt, she was struggling to hold the curiosity at bay.

He could tell it became more and more difficult for her to do so as time went by. Apollo found it equally as hard to focus, the hours slipping away so easily. The countdown was unstoppable. He often found himself in a daydream, point blank refusing to look at his numbers, and Trucy would have to grab his arm and physically shake him back to reality. He had to apologise to Eldoon and terrifyingly enough Mrs Kitaki multiple times, and Trucy chastised him for not taking their job seriously- as seriously as a panty hunt could be taken. The look on her face screamed that she was wondering how someone who had managed to skilfully defend her father and take down his mentor in one fell swoop could be so easily distracted.

Little did she know.

He could barely think of anything past soulmates.

He had eyed the ribbon on Alita’s wrist, covering the mark just like he was, and wondered if her timer had stopped when she and Wocky met- if it was anything to do with Mrs Kitaki’s disapproval. He wondered about Wright, if there was someone who had kept him sane through the seven long years. He looked at Trucy, and wondered how long she had until she met hers- or, if it had already stopped. Apollo had known of children in the foster home whose soulmates had been childhood friends. He toyed with the idea of asking, but it was awfully personal for someone he had only really just met- and she had been gratifyingly silent on the matter, even as he had been making his own plight obvious. He had been rubbing his wrist like it burned and he was looking from person to person like he was expecting a xenomorph to burst from their chest. He would be surprised if she hadn’t realised by now.

He wondered if the officer at the People Park had someone- and if that person knew how much of a massive asshole fate had given them in return.

Apollo tried to keep his cool in face of irritation, supressing his temper. It was difficult, when the officer was being so unreasonable, and by the time they had finished their talk with Alita, his counter read that there was only an hour left until he bumped into a stranger. Apollo’s heart was going into overdrive at the thought. He had decided that he wanted to get in to the park and get his job done as quickly as possible- then he would drop Trucy back and cower in his apartment, and if his counter didn’t immediately change to reflect his decision he would just face court tomorrow to the best of his ability. He wasn’t going to let fate get the best of him, not today.

But the officer didn’t seem quite so willing to go along with Apollo’s carefully laid plans, even when they held a letter of request, and Apollo was almost seeing red. At any other point, he would have accepted it easier and tried to find another way inside, maybe taking the woman’s example and hopping the fence if things got desperate, but the counter was itching his skin and he had a paying client, goddamnit. He wasn’t in the mood to be denied entry.

They bickered for a few long minutes, Apollo standing his ground and face growing hotter and hotter with his annoyance. The officer was adamant and Trucy was growing more and more frustrated, and their argument gradually escalated. Their voices grew louder, and Apollo simply couldn’t understand why they were denied entry- Skye’s orders, the officer said, she wanted to be alone at the scene for a while, but Apollo wasn’t going to stand for it. He said as such, and loudly.

He only thought afterwards that it may have been fate’s attempt at keeping him still, not sending him running- and it worked. He didn’t notice the approach.

“Excuse me, coming through.” A man’s voice said suddenly from behind them over their din, and spooked, both Apollo and Trucy jumped a mile. The officer, who had seen the stranger coming, looked faintly smug. Apollo turned, instinctively ready to apologize and step out of the way- and did a double take when he saw someone he shouldn’t have.

Kristoph Gavin was standing only a few feet away.

Apollo recoiled, jumping away from him like he had been electrocuted. It couldn’t be, it was impossible, he was on death row last Apollo had heard- but there he was, in the flesh, looking directly at him. Apollo’s heart switched residence from his chest to his throat, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

But Kristoph Gavin didn’t have that easy smile, or the casual stance- and he especially didn’t have that garish fashion sense. Apollo looked a little closer, inwardly horrified as he was, and he could pick out physical differences. The colour of the hair, the tanned skin, the shape of the nose- this man looked intimately like Kristoph, but it wasn’t him. In any other circumstance, Apollo would have deflated out of sheer relief- but he was tightly strung, and he only tensed more.

There was something about this man. Something else. Something important.

“Hello, Mr Gavin.” The officer greeted, and Apollo could only stare. A brother, he thought, it had to be. Nothing else could be so uncanny.

The man nodded at the officer, the gesture one between acquaintances, and his gaze slipped from him, to linger on Trucy, to shift finally to Apollo. He stood comfortably, like he had no problem being stared at by two strangers and was almost used to it, and he seemed to ooze self-confidence. Apollo felt ridiculous thinking it, but he couldn’t help but focus on his aura. Kristoph had something similar- one of confidence, of dominance, of arrogance- and while this man had something almost the same, it was much more soothing, something less malevolent. Despite his similarity to Kristoph and the ridiculous way he wore his collar, Apollo thought he might have been a good man.

Then, something in Apollo’s brain clicked into place, the puzzle piece re-joining its brethren. His heart felt light, but something dropped in his stomach like a rock.

Oh god, no, he thought, and without considering what the others might think of him if he was wrong his hand flew to his wrist, popping the cuffs buttons. He pulled the sleeve back- and he blanched, the blood draining from his face.

His counter had stopped.

This stranger was his soulmate.

Apollo looked back up to take him in after a moment of staring, his wrist still bared to the world, and the man suddenly looked startled. Apollo had never seen such an expression on Kristoph’s face, and it was nothing short of bewildering. The man took his cue from Apollo and went for his own wrist, pulling back his black shirt and purple jacket. Apollo couldn’t see his counter, but watched his expression morph into one of genuine surprise, his mouth falling slack. His expression would have been comical at any other point. There was a moment of long silence, and Apollo couldn’t even imagine what Trucy and the guard were thinking.

It was ridiculous, only something that would have happened to Apollo- they had the hour left, but somehow, they had met. Fate had changed its course yet again. This indecisive man had ruined Apollo’s plan, and he found himself pleased about it.

Eventually, the man’s head lifted, and he seemed to have regained his composure. He offered Apollo his wrist, and right there lay a rundown timer- a series of zeroes emblazoned on his skin, matching Apollo’s exactly. “Hello.” He said, in an amazed voice, and he was suddenly smiling widely.

Apollo couldn’t quite draw together enough words for a sentence, no matter how hard he tried. Instead, he paid the stranger- Gavin- the same courtesy. He showed him his wrist, and tried not to shiver under the intense gaze.

He heard a tiny ‘oh, thank Gott’, and then he was being looked at again, intensely.

“Forgive me,” He said, and Apollo wasn’t even uncomfortable to find Gavin staring at him head on. Apollo didn’t like eye contact at the best of times, but right now, he didn’t care. “I didn’t check my counter this morning- last night, I had weeks left to go.”

“Mine said an hour only minutes ago,” Apollo managed, flustered.

“I was going to go to my office,” Gavin explained. “I was going to come along later. But I changed my mind, and the counter must have changed with my decision. Good thing, ja?”

“Oh, god.” He said, weakly, and then he wanted to smack himself. He was finally capable of words, and that was all he could manage?

To Apollo’s embarrassment, the man only laughed. It was a warm sound, and something in Apollo’s chest tightened, and all he could think was soulmate and mine. “I must say, I’m used to being inspected by the ladies…” He put his hands on his hips and leant forward, his smile lazy and slow, but still genuine. “But this is the first way I’ve ever felt this way with a man.”

Trucy squeaked at his side, appearing to finally put two and two together. “You’re soulmates?!”

“I’m pleased to say,” Gavin said, and it was true. He sounded almost delighted.

Apollo’s gaze was pulled away as he saw Trucy round on him in the corner of his eye. “Polly!” She sounded outraged. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to meet your soulmate today?”

“I thought,” He began. “I didn’t…”

“I think neither of us noticed, Fraulien.” Gavin said, in place of him. Apollo was thankful for the intervention. He glanced at Trucy for the moment, but his eyes returned to Apollo’s quickly, like he couldn’t bear to look away for too long. “Yesterday, my own counter said it would be weeks before I would finally meet you. But that has clearly changed.” His posture finally straightened, but the smile never dimmed. “Fate is a fickle thing, is she not? But it appears Lady Luck is on our side.”

Oh god, Apollo thought, again. He wondered if he would be thinking that for the rest of his life. He was still waiting for his brain to reboot. My soulmate is weird. Trucy, however, seemed charmed enough. She was bouncing with excitement, grinning away like she had found her soul mate- the companion that was made for her, someone who was to walk with her through thick and thin.

God, he wasn’t ready for this in the slightest.

“What are you doing here?” Gavin asked, tilting his head to one side. Apollo felt like asking the same question- he hardly expected their first meeting to be outside the scene of a crime. “In such a dismal place? Can I be of any assistance, soulmate?”

Christ, this is real. Apollo opened his mouth- uselessly. Nothing came out. His mouth was bone dry, and his tongue felt too thick in his throat. There was a vaguely awkward silence, until Trucy spoke up. He had never been more grateful for her, even with all the troubles she and her father were bringing.

“Yes!” Her voice was loud enough to capture Gavin’s attentions, for the moment. “The police man won’t let us in. We even have a letter of request.”

Gavin tutted, and the officer had the good graces to look bashful, if not ashamed. “You must be exhausted, standing out here. I’ll take you both to the scene of the crime.” He sounded sympathetic, borderline patronizing, and Apollo wanted to protest. Trucy cut over him.

“Really?”

Gavin flashed her a dazzling smile, and her eyes went wide, already full of adoration. He stepped forward, brushing just past Apollo’s side, and even the tiniest, briefest contact had Apollo seizing up, his heart missing a beat. Gavin must have felt it- he flashed Apollo a grin- but he kept walking, towards the entrance of the park. Trucy followed eagerly; Apollo with a moment of hesitation. “By your leave, Officer.”

The officer looked slightly thrown at the turn of events, but stepped aside to let them past with an enthusiastic, “Yes, sir!”

“This way.” Gavin lifted the police tape with one hand, and delighted at his chivalry, Trucy ducked under without hesitation. Apollo followed her with a small ‘thanks’, and Gavin followed closely. They entered the park together, Trucy walking ahead with her feet tapping against the path, and Gavin matching his speed with Apollo’s. He could feel the man looking at him, his gaze burning on the back of his head, and he turned to offer him a smile Apollo could only hope wasn’t as queasy as he felt.

He wasn’t at all sure of what to do. You only met your soulmate once, and he had no idea how to act. He didn’t know the slightest thing about this man, his ex-boss’s brother for God’s sake, but they were bound in ways human beings still didn’t understand. He didn’t have time to moon at this man who he didn’t know at all, he had a crime scene to investigate, but Apollo couldn’t help but want him around.

He had the funny feeling this was going to be a complete nightmare.

He was right, on many different levels. The crime scene was frustrating, immediately. He stared hard at the cart. Nothing was ever simple for him- there was always something waiting around the corner, ready to punch him in the throat. Trucy made a put out noise, huffing. Apollo stopped just short of beside her, and Gavin did the same, like he was magnetically draw to Apollo’s side.

“This is where the magic happened.” The man said, dryly, and Apollo couldn’t help but crack a smile despite the inappropriateness. There was a woman in a lab coat standing nearby, crouched next to the tarp, and Apollo saw the way she glowered at Gavin, seemingly having heard. The man pretended not to notice her, and he never once glanced in her direction.

“Thank you,” Apollo remembered his manners, moving towards the crime scene- but he was stopped by Gavin’s hand on his shoulder. It was a light touch, something he could easily pull away from- while Apollo found it slightly too invasive for his tastes, considering they had only just met, he appreciated how light the touch was. Apollo didn’t pull himself free, but he looked meaningfully towards the cart. “Excuse me.”

Gavin looked faintly apologetic, letting him go, but he stepped after him insistently. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to ask for your name,” He smirked this time, and Apollo could see the arrogance clearly. It made Apollo’s stomach feel cold, and he thought of Kristoph again. “Or will I have to work for it?”

“I might decide to be difficult,” Apollo told him, in a moment of boldness, and Gavin laughed. Trucy was eavesdropping, but trying to pretend she wasn’t, instead gazing at the noodle stand. She was a terrible actress. No one found noodles that interesting. “Tell me yours.”

Gavin pulled back and placed his hand over his heart, pulling out all the stops to look as stung as he could. His smile gave him away. “Why, you don’t know who I am?”

Apollo lifted his eyebrows. “Should I?”

His soulmate- his soulmate- shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps I am not as famous as everyone made me out to be,” He lamented. “I am Klavier Gavin.”

He had never heard the name before- it didn’t ring a bell, ignoring the surname. Trucy seemed unaffected, too. “I have no idea who you are.”

“Ah, such cruelty.” Klavier sighed, but he didn’t seem offended. “But is that a trade? Will you tell me your name?”

He didn’t see why not. “I’m Apollo. Apollo Justice.”

“I see.” Klavier looked deep in thought. “And what business does a man like you have investigating such a foul murder?”

A man like me, Apollo wondered, but he bit back the question. He could think of no way to phrase it without sounding petty or offending him, and Apollo didn’t want to make such a devastating first impression, nor have a domestic at a crime scene. He could see something in Klavier’s eyes too, like he was asking a question he already knew the answer to. That made Apollo curious. “I’m a defence attorney. I’m defending the man accused of this murder.”

Klavier barked out a laugh at that, a sudden sound that caught even Trucy off-guard. He sounded pleased, and when he smiled, laugh lines appeared around his mouth. It spoke volumes of him- he was a man who smiled and laughed often.

Apollo still bristled. It had become instinct- Apollo was used to people laughing at him. “What’s so funny?”

Klavier was beaming, delighted by something. “Fate is a fickle thing indeed,” He said, eyes shining. “I’m the prosecutor on this case.”

“Yes, oh.” Klavier said, seemingly reading his thoughts. “What a fascinating case this will be. I… I suppose I should be leaving you to your investigation, then, if this will be a fair trial.” He looked a little put out at that. Even Trucy looked deeply disappointed, and Apollo wondered if he already had competition for Klavier’s affections.

Apollo knew he was busy, that he couldn’t spend time learning who his soulmate was, if he was the kind of man Apollo could learn to love, but the curiosity was burning. Earlier, he had dreaded the man’s arrival, and now he cherished his presence. “You don’t have to go,” Apollo said, a little shyly.

Klavier looked delighted. “Tempting,” He looked like he was going to agree for a moment- but then he looked just past Apollo’s shoulder, to where the woman was, and his expression turned sheepish. “But I shouldn’t. I will see you tomorrow, in court.” He leant in a little, lowering his voice almost conspiratorially. Apollo found himself leaning closer, before he could stop himself. “Don’t go telling anyone about our little thing. They might take one of us off the case if they find out. And I want the opportunity to see what my soulmate is made of, ja?”

Apollo hardly thought the fact they would be intertwined forever was ‘a small thing’, but he nodded. It was time for him to crack on with his investigation, and it would be the first time in two months he would actually be able to do his job. Apollo was excited, but he smiled, a touch ruefully. “This case just got a lot more stressful.”

“My apologies. But I feel this will be an interesting case, if you’re as mouthy in court as you were with the officer.” Klavier sounded anything but apologetic- he sounded almost energized. He turned his head, looking to the entrance of the park. He then looked from the crime scene to Apollo, eyes flickering towards the woman in the lab coat yet again. She wasn’t glowering anymore, and Klavier looked relieved for the moment, but his expression was increasingly regretful. His brows were furrowing into a deep frown. “I hate to leave, after I have just found you. But we will see each other tomorrow.”

“We will.” Apollo promised, and he was already feeling the beginning of anxiety.

“Do enjoy your investigation,” Klavier said, as he reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a card with a flourish, and offered it to Apollo with a winning smile that he swore did nothing to his heart and nerves. “My card,” He said as Apollo accepted it. The card had his name and number on it, and a few musical notes around the top. It was surprisingly simple for a man dressed like him. “It’s my personal number- I always carry them around for the Frauliens,” He admitted, with no shame. “But I think this is the last card I will give. Call me tonight?”

“Right.” Apollo wasn’t sure what to do with the idea that his soulmate was an ex womanizer, by the sound of things, but he still blushed deeply when Klavier winked at him.

“It was a pleasure,” Klavier said in a low voice, bowing forward a little to him. He offered him one last smile- and then, as quickly as he swept into Apollo’s life he was gone, with one last, lingering look at the gates of the park that Apollo secretly thought was a little pathetic, if not slightly sweet. He supposed everyone was a little pathetic when it came to meeting their soulmates- his legs still felt a touch weak.

“Your soulmate is amazing,” Trucy gushed, moon eyed, and Apollo wanted the ground to gape open and swallow him whole. He tucked the card into his waistcoat pocket, and tried not to feel the way it seemed impossibly heavy.

“Let’s get on with it.” He told her, firmly, and they turned to the cart.

Chapter Text

When he was young, Klavier Gavin had held a love and fascination for the idea of soulmates- and as the second son to Eloise and Luther Gavin, Klavier grew up to see the best and worst of soulmates.

When he saw small, he remembered clambering onto to sofa and onto his mother’s lap, grinning and threading his jam sticky hands into her platinum hair. She scolded him fiercely for that, but let him sit as long as he kept his hands folded in his lap. She never liked it when he fidgeted. They sat in the quiet for a long time, his mother frowning and tapping at her mobile while Klavier sat perched struggling with the urge to fiddle, thoughts spinning in his head.

He gave voice to them, eventually. “Daddy,” He said haltingly, and her thumb froze on the screen. She looked at him, plucked brows furrowing. He repeated himself a few times, daddy daddy and then soulmate soulmate soulmate until she scowled deeply, and held her hand over his mouth. He blabbered on, even then.

“Use your words, Klavier,” She demanded. Her nail pressed lightly into his cheek. “We taught you them for a reason.”

He struggled for a long while- he was never good with words. Often, his family refused to speak to him unless he spoke ‘properly’ to his frustration. When his voice trembled and he spat out the same words, anxious, they all turned away from him- they didn’t even want to look at him. Klavier hated that- but he knew it was his fault. He had to be better.

“How… did you and Daddy,” He grit out, under her ice blue eyes. But he couldn’t get out the next few words no matter how hard he tried, and so he skipped them. “Soulmates?”

She pursed her lips tightly, but she nodded sharply in acceptance but not approval. He shrank. He hated disappointing her- it made him feel small and useless, even then. “How did your father and I meet?”

Klavier nodded. He stared at the spot just past her left ear- he felt uncomfortable making eye contact most of the time.

She sighed heavily, like it was a chore, and put her phone to one side. She touched his arm, feather light, and began. Klavier listened intently to her story, wide eyed, picking out mostly details like prestigious university and my professor. So young, he barely had any clue what those words meant but he made himself listen when she began to smile, just a touch, telling him how Luther had held the entire class behind and allowed no entry or exit when his soul mate counter went off at the beginning of the lecture. She looked a kindly woman when she smiled, but it happened rarely.

Klavier went up to touch her cheek, beaming himself at the way her lips quirked- but she leaned away, and he remembered too late how sticky his hands were. “My makeup,” She protested, and shuffled Klavier a little further down her lap. Now, she held him at arm’s length.

Klavier barely noticed- he was already going for his sleeve, on a baggy shirt that was a little too big for him- he would grow into it soon, his father had said. He rolled the sleeve up to his elbow, and pointed at it, excitably. “Soulmate,” He said, poking out the numbers. So young, he couldn’t understand them, but he knew they were herald to a change, one he couldn’t wait for. He held up his wrist for his mother to see. “Soulmate!”

She looked at him, a touch distasteful, but her eyes fell to his soulmate counter. Her eyes widened just a touch when she saw that they had changed from their place, once reading nine years. Something had changed. She gazed at it a while, wondering, and thinking of her other son. Eloise wondered what would become of these two.

“When?” Klavier asked her, and when she didn’t respond immediately, became a touch agitated. He squirmed on her knees. “When?”

She reached out and pet his short, stubbly hair almost distractedly. “Soon, Klavier.” She told him vaguely, look at the numbers that read it would be almost fourteen yearsuntil he crossed paths with his soulmate, and picked her phone back up when it chimed for her attention. She had been offered a promotion, one that would take her family to California.

She declined, politely, and thought nothing of it .  

-

Klavier was pressed up firmly against Kristoph’s side one evening as they watched television, some bright and garish cartoon borderline blinding in the darkness, and his soulmate counter was itching unbearably.

He had checked it the moment it began, fearful that something was wrong- but the numbers were still the same, and his soulmate was still far out of his reach. The skin around the counter still itched, and he scratched it raw, until it burned, and rubbed it against the fabric of the sofa. Kristoph didn’t say a word, watching the cartoons Klavier had wanted put on with a vague, vacant smile.

It was only when Klavier started to squirm, toying with the idea of soothing the skin with cream that Kristoph spoke up. “Stop that.” He said, shifting against his side. Klavier’s cheek was pressed up against Kristoph’s arms and so he moved with him, remaining pressed up. His warmth was a comfort. Klavier loved his elder brother dearly, even when Kristoph wasn’t around or when he snapped at him, and considered him his best friend. He had some people he considered friends in primary school, but children were fickle, and jumped around from friend to friend. He didn’t mind that- he liked to be alone in the playground, and he always had his brother who picked him up from school and listened when Klavier nattered away, all the journey home.

“It itches,” He complained, but when he continued Kristoph grabbed one of his hands, pressing it down onto the sofa between them. Klavier made a noise of complaint, trying to pull free, but Kristoph was determined. He never looked away from the television. Eventually, Klavier settled, frowning. His wrist still tormented him, and he pressed it against one of the cool pillows on the either side of the sofa. It soothed him, a little.

The cartoon eventually changed to adverts, for silly little things- cleaning products, food stores, and some other kid shows that Klavier had little interest in. He waited for them to be done- but then there was an advert for a show aged just above Klavier’s range and below Kristoph’s, something about a nerdy teenage girl in high school whose soulmate counter went off with one of the most popular boys in school. Klavier wrinkled his nose at the thought of all that needless drama, but the idea of soulmates was stuck in his head once more- and then he realised he had never asked an important question.

“Bruder,” He spoke up, as the advert finished. Kristoph hummed in response, a low sound that with his face against him Klavier felt more than heard. He reached for the remote control to turn down the volume, at loathe to wake their sleeping father upstairs. “What about your soulmate?”

There was a long moment of quiet, one that made Klavier wonder if he had come across a sore spot. But Kristoph hadn’t tensed, or blanched, or still looked away from the screen. Klavier supposed he had only caught his brother off guard. He waited, somewhat impatiently- he wanted to know when his would be meeting his brother’s soulmate, or perhaps if Kristoph’s numbers hand already ended- and he couldn’t quite believe he had never thought to ask before.

“What about them?” He asked after a moment, tilting his head to one side. He spared Klavier a glance, and he could see how his face was almost completely blank, as it always seemed to be. Klavier had once thought it odd, but he had grown used to it over the years.

“What do your numbers say?” He pressed, managing to pull his hand free from under Kristoph’s. His brother’s hand moved to his sleeve, as if afraid that Klavier had moved to pull it up and see for himself, but he wasn’t so rude. Instead, he wrapped both of his arms around Kristoph’s arm and rest his head on his shoulder. “Will you meet someone soon? Have you already met them?”

Kristoph sighed deeply, but made no move to shake him free like he had done many times before. He crossed his legs, settling back into the sofa, and moved to lightly flick at Klavier’s nose. “Why all the sudden questions, bruder?”

“I want to know,” He pulled his head away from Kristoph’s fingers, whining a little in protest. He took delight in the way his brother’s chest shook as he laughed, softly. “I’d never asked, and mutter told you how long I have.” Klavier was just old enough to understand just how large that number was now, and he had cried when he realised how old he would be when he finally met his, distraught that he wouldn’t grow up with them.

Kristoph hummed again, moving the poke at Klavier nose once more before drawing away. “You do have quite a while,” He nodded, to himself. “However, if nothing changes, you will still find yours first. I have longer.”

Klavier’s heart sunk, and his expression fell. “Oh.” He felt guilty- here he was, all dejected at having to wait now twelve to meet his, and Kristoph had even longer to wait, plus the seven years Kristoph had on Klavier. He wouldn’t meet his soulmate for a very long time. Suddenly, Klavier didn’t want to ask any more questions. He saw that Kristoph wasn’t smiling anymore.

“Chin up,” Krisoph said. “Don’t forget how much we travel. Maybe mutter und vader will take us to where your soulmate lives, and you’ll run into them.”

 “Or yours,” Klavier reminded him, wanting to see Kristoph smile again, and he did.

“Perhaps,” Kristoph said, and then the cartoons came back on. He hushed whatever Klavier tried to say afterwards, and he got the message.

-

Klavier’s first secondary school was a mixed blessing, in his eyes. It was a large, sprawling building with the capacity of holding many students, but had significantly less students than average- mostly because the only children who could attend were either specialist students or came from wealthy families. The Gavin family, although they were blessed with shrewdly intelligent children, were the latter.

Klavier had few friends. There were children who sometimes spoke with him in lessons, girls who blushed whenever he walked by, but he ate his lunch alone- and would have it no other way. He still had his brother, even when they went to separate schools, and he needed no one else.

And he had music and law. That was the most important thing aside his family.

He was a good student, mostly well-liked by the teachers and received regular good grades. They complained a little at his lack of focus and the fact he often skipped classes he deemed irrelevant to go up the music rooms, but most of them treated him well and greeted him whenever they walked past in the hallways. The music teacher in particular had a soft spot for him, although he tried to keep him out of the offices when he had lessons. Klavier usually snuck in anyway.

He took music lessons after school or simply hung around, playing guitar alone or attempting to branch out and learn the piano or violin. He vastly preferred the guitar however, and sang with it, composing little tunes or songs. The teacher complimented his voice, and Klavier knew that music was going to be a strong influence in his life, if not as powerful as law.

It was a spring afternoon when Klavier was twelve, and halfway through a piano lesson there was a brisk knock at the door- and even before the teacher could allow entry the door opened, and Kristoph stepped in.

Kristoph had not been a previous student at the school, and so the music teacher did not recognise him. He didn’t protest the arrival, looking a little startled at how alike he and Klavier looked, and looked between the two of them. Kristoph spared him and glance, and a tiny nod, but Klavier could see how tense he was, how tightly his lips were pressed together. They were pale with the lack of blood.

“Klavier,” He called across the room, not bothering to step forward and fetch him. Klavier had no time to ask why he was there. “You have to come home.”

Klavier fingers hesitated on the keys, and he frowned. “But mutter-“

“Don’t argue with me,” Kristoph cut across him, words like a whip, and Klavier clammed up. “You’re coming home with me now.”

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked in a very small voice, even as he crawled out of his chair and grabbed his bag, slipping to over his shoulder. He shot an apologetic look to his teacher, who only looked surprised. Klavier crossed the room as quickly as he could, lifting his hands and flicking his fingers. A doctor a few years back had called it stimming, and his parents had brought him a silver stim ring for him to toy with, but Klavier had misplaced it months ago and hadn’t yet summed up the bravery to tell his parents.

Kristoph’s expression flickered when Klavier started, and his eyes flashed with anger. “Stop that.”

Klavier didn’t. He couldn’t quite make eye contact with his brother this time, too anxious to look directly. “What’s going on?”

Kristoph reached down and grabbed his hands, forcing his fingers down and pushing his hands to his sides to make him stop. Klavier flinched at the feeling of Kristoph’s bigger hands holding his wrists too tightly, but didn’t protest. “It’s vader,” He told him, like he wasn’t hurting his brother. “Mutter wants you to come home now.”

The teacher had stood up suddenly, pushing the chair back, and he opened his mouth as if to protest the rough treatment, but Kristoph was already hauling Klavier away. Klavier turned his head, calling out, “I’m sorry. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He didn’t know that he wouldn’t be coming back to school for a few more days.

The teacher couldn’t reply before the door was slamming shut behind the Gavin brothers.

Klavier was rushed home, dragged all the way back by a silent and sullen Kristoph- and they both arrived to the news that his father had died.

Klavier cried for a long time. Kristoph didn’t. While Klavier sat on the floor of the living room and sobbed- he had loved his father with all of his heart, even when he feared him- Kristoph sat beside him, cross legged and dry eyed, but his jaw was set firmly underneath the shifting skin. He held Klavier’s hand loosely, and no one who had come to comfort the family asked about the red marks on Klavier’s wrists.

His mother, after all, was inconsolable. No one blamed her. She had lost her soulmate, after all, and no one would wish that on their worst enemy. She had loved him since they met, she said through hiccups, it was meant to be, and now she was alone.

Klavier listened to all that was said, his chest shaking with his tears. He was kept away from his mother in the living room, an aunt sending him away with Kristoph. It wouldn’t do for the boy to see his mother like this, she had said, like he wasn’t even there. Members of his extended family didn’t like to speak to Klavier, showing clear favouritism to Kristoph. At that moment, it didn’t even sting as much as it would have. He was still in earshot, however, and he could hear his mother crying hysterically about all the things they had planned to do together, retiring, maybe adopting- she even spoke of plans of going to America in seven years or so, perhaps taking Kristoph and Klavier with them, for a long holiday, maybe moving there permanently if they could see themselves settling. Now, no such thing would happen.

Klavier listened to it all, and wished his soulmate was there to make it better. He didn’t notice the way his wrist stung- not yet.

Klavier went to bed hours later than he usually did, Kristoph telling him there was no use in doing his homework or going to bed early because he wouldn’t be going to school for the rest of the week. Klavier didn’t argue, and stayed up, wanting to go and comfort his mother but being shut out by his aunt. He could still hear her downstairs as he curled up in his sheets, and he thought he had cried himself dry.

He was wrong. He couldn’t slip away to slumber, no matter how hard he tried. He pulled the duvet up to his neck and tried to focus on the feeling of the soft mattress and warm blanket, hoping he would lure his body to rest, but it never came. He lay in the dark, and listened to the distant sounds from downstairs.

The realization of the strange feeling that lingered within him came upon him quickly, in his heart and his gut and most importantly, his wrist. He felt confusion for a long moment, not being able to recognize the strange sensations before the realisation dawned and he checked his counter quickly, eager to see what had changed. Come to me quicker, he begged, don’t go away, don’t go.

The numbers were not changing. They had already changed.

They had originally read seven but now they had increased to twelve.

He thought he couldn’t cry anymore. He was wrong.

“Please,” He said to his wrist, as if it could take his words all the way to his soulmate. His eyes were stinging, and his cheeks had already been wiped raw with uncomfortable tissues. “I need you. Don’t do this to me.”

The number didn’t shift. He hadn’t expected them to.

He cried silently all night until he fell into an uneasy sleep. He promised himself that this would be the last time he would cry over his soulmate, someone he didn’t even know.

-

Throughout his childhood, the prospect of soulmates were important to Klavier. They were a kind of innocent fairy tale, something romantic and impossible in the real world, something that kept people going in their darkest times.

And then he was thirteen years old, intelligent but with a lack of focus, and the fairy-tale suddenly became twisted. He had already seen the pure devastation of losing a soulmate, but the very worst had yet to come- and he saw it one warm summer evening after he had neglect to attend his gym class for the third time in a row- instead electing to spend the time hidden away in the music offices, composing tunes in his head and performing them for the frauliens to hear below through the wide open windows. He missed his last music teacher- this new one was cruel and boring. He had been moved to a new school, for some reason he couldn’t quire comprehend, but his mother refused to give him an answer. Either way, he was a little happier- the offices were easier to break into.

He had been found, of course. Klavier had never been subtle, nor bore any kind of love for gym. He had been promptly lectured and hauled away to detention after school, and his mother was called.

His mother, however, was not home. She was away in Moscow to meet with old friends, leaving her thirteen and nineteen but soon to become twenty year old sons with a credit card for whatever they desired- also Kristoph had seen how Klavier’s eyes lit up at the very idea, and confiscated it immediately. It was Kristoph who answered the phone, and growled with frustration as soon as he hung up.

Klavier served his time- thirty minutes- with little complaint, taking the time to relax. He was expected to sit in silence, but didn’t mind too much- he preferred the quiet, and even then there were no interesting people to talk to. There was a girl who looked a few years older than him, sitting three spaces to his left and eyeing the door as if eager to dash for it, and another boy he recognised from his science class who was carving little symbols into his desk two spaces in front. A teacher Klavier didn’t know sat at the desk at the front of the room, marking old papers and determinedly not looking at any of them. The students had spared Klavier a glance when they had first sat down, but hadn’t said a word since.

Time passed by slowly, with Klavier resting his cheek in his palm, but Kristoph was as punctual as always, appearing right on the dot. He had entered the school with no trouble- the secretaries at the office knew him well, as he was an old student to Klavier’s new school. He entered the detention room without even a knock on the door, sweeping inside.

In retrospect, Klavier should have known something was up- but he was so caught up in himself, in his music and the sounds he could create so skilfully that he could think of little else.

The very moment Kristoph entered the room his eyes fell upon Klavier- and then they were immediately wrenched away when the girl a few spaces away sucked in a deep gasp of breath, like she was choking on air, and leapt up. She knocked her chair back with the force and speed. The sound of wood against the floor drew the eyes of the entire room, her jerked movements breaking the stillness. Klavier turned his head and saw the girl staring intently at Kristoph, like she was seeing the beauty of the stars in night sky for the first time. In turn, Kristoph looked at her like she had spat flame.

There was a long quiet in which everyone looked between him and her, bemusedly. For a moment, Klavier wondered what the hell had just happened- but no one could say he wasn’t a smart boy, and he put two and two together quickly.

She wasn’t looking towards the door with a desire to go home- she was looking at the only entrance and counting down alongside her soul counter. She was waiting for her soulmate- Kristoph.

Klavier leapt to his feet. “Holy shit,” He yelled excitably, over the teacher’s outraged exclamation at his choice of words. He was grinning, widely. “Bro, why didn’t you tell me it changed to today? That’s so fucking soon! I would have baked a fucking cake.”

“Language, Gavin!” The teacher snapped, but Klavier paid him no heed. The entire room was ignoring him too- they had something much more interesting to focus on, after all.

“Oh my god,” The girl was saying. Her face was as pale as her blonde hair. “Oh my god, it’s you.” She was staring at him like she couldn’t quite believe he was standing there, only feet away from her.

Klavier watched an easy smile overtake his brother’s face, cool and calm as he used two fingers to peel back his jacket. The youngest Gavin was really to explode with excitement when Kristoph said clearly and loudly, calling across the room, “I’m sorry, I think you’re mistaken.”

Just like that, the room was silent and tense.

“What?” Klavier asked dumbly after a beat of silence. His gut was stone cold. It sunk in quickly, and he couldn’t imagine how the girl felt at that second. He was glad for it.

Kristoph met the girl’s gaze head on- the eye contact was cruel, but honest. The way he tilted his wrist to show the room, however, was simply cruel. “I’m not your soulmate,” He cocked his head to one side and smiled, his teeth very straight and very white- perfect. “I have no soul numbers.”

The room was completely silent. The only sounds were the steady ticking of the clock against the wall and the sound of casual footfalls in the hallway. Kristoph’s admission hung heavy in the air, and Klavier thought he was going to be sick.

He could see the counter bared on his brother’s wrist and it was true- the numbers were void, like they were never even there.

All eyes turned to the girl, and her expression was like a blow to the stomach. It was the most heart-breaking thing Klavier had ever seen, and he knew it would stay with him forever. Her eyes were alight with honest confusion, not yet watery, but the tremble of her should and lips spoke of the tears to come.

“What?” Her voice was a small, broken thing. “I don’t…”

“Miss!” The teacher sound urgent, clearly desperate to avoid a girl weeping under his supervision. “Perhaps it’s a mistake, someone else, not him-”

“No,” She hadn’t looked away from Kristoph for a second. “No, it’s him. There wasn’t anyone else, and he walked in as soon as the countdown ended.”

There was an awful air of finality about that, and Klavier swallowed. His mind was reeling, abuzz with information and revelations and he wasn’t sure who he felt sorrier for- this girl, with a soulmate who wasn’t hers in turn, or Kristoph who had lied to him, with no soulmate at all. Klavier thought of his own out there in the world somewhere, and he could only pray that they kept themselves safe and that they were a pair- made to be together. He didn’t know if he would be able to bear the sight of nothing or numbers still ticking down when the time came.

He never wanted to experience anything like this awful moment again, and he wasn’t even directly involved.

The teacher was babbling nonsense excuses now and the girl’s eyes were gleaming and glistening- and Kristoph turned to Klavier. His expression was completely at peace and he had pulled his sleeve back over the counter. “Come on, Klavier.” He called to him. “We should go.”

Klavier gaped at him. “Go?” He echoed. “We can’t just-”

“I’ve spent enough time running after you,” He said, his tone clipped. “I have better things to do. If you’re done with your punishment, we’re going.”

The girl was sniffling now, quietly, and the teacher and the other boy looked like they wanted to be anywhere else in the world but in that room. Klavier struggled for words, looking between him and her. He felt he had been smacked in the face, on each cheek, while Kristoph had simply stood there and delivered the blows. "Kris, we can’t-”

He had never argued with his brother before in such a way, and he could see from across the room the way his brows furrowed, deeply. Kristoph did not accept anyone who argued against him, and Klavier knew he would be paying for it later. His mother wouldn’t be home to defend him- not that she ever did.

Klavier looked to the girl one last time, seeing how tears now dribbled down her flushed cheeks, and nodded, against his will. “Alright.” He said, quietly, and followed Kristoph out of the room without looking back.

He hadn’t seen such cruelty from his brother before, and it wasn’t the last he would see of it.

-

You should come visit me soon, if you’re on holiday a text from Kristoph read, in perfect grammar with no emoticons. Klavier knew his brother could be boring at times, but he didn’t think he was that dull.

He smiled at his phone, squinting against the bright sunshine. His wiggled his toes in the sand, appreciating the warmth. Italian beaches were wonderful things. The sun was hot on his bare skin, and the smell of the sea and all sorts of food filled his nose. He looked out at the sea, so close and so beautiful, and looked back down to his phone.

I’m back on tour in 2 days, Klavier typed in response. Can’t visit now. But I can talk 2 my manager about getting some time off next month and grabbing a flight back 2 you? Maybe a tour to the US again y/y/fy? :)

He balanced his phone on his stomach and leant back in his deckchair, letting the sun tan his skin. He couldn’t help the satisfied smile curving on his lips. He had deserved this, he though, with all those gold albums. He waited in comfort for a response- and this time, it took fifteen minutes for the next text to come in. Klavier didn’t find it worrying. His brother was a busy man, after all.

Sorry, the text said, I was distracted. My new assistant just came in for his first day at work. But a visit from you sounds good, perhaps you can come and put the fear of God into him- such a legendary prosecutor that you are.

Klavier laughed to himself, a few quiet chuckles so no one would stare. Closing down the text screen, he quickly text a message to his manager- any chance of a tour of the good old US of A soon, or time for me to see my bro next month? He waited for a response, finger drawing a random pattern in the sand and watching as families milled on by.

He was completely unaware of his soul counter, and the numbers that flickered and changed. He mistook the feeling of the burn for the gentle touch of the sun. The numbers fritzed and jumped, waiting for a decision to be made.

Neither the counter nor Klavier were forced to wait for long. The phone chimed, and once Klavier read the message, he frowned, and brought up Kristoph’s messages again.

Sorry bro, he text back quickly, thumbs working on the touchscreen. Manager says I’m 2 busy to come anytime soon :( gotta come hang out some point tho, yh?

The numbers danced for a moment longer- and then stilled, undisturbed.

-

“Go fuck yourself, Gavin,” Daryan told Klavier, with no bite behind his words and a huge smile on his face. He stood on unsteady legs, leaning into the thick oak of the door, and waved his hands in Klavier’s direction, where he stood outside the door. They were both laughing alone- the rest of the band had already staggered off to their rooms, and it was late. The hotel would have been silent, if not for them. “You’re an asshole.”

Klavier hushed him in the darkness, loudly and patronizingly, and Daryan rolled his eyes before slamming the door in his face. The sound filled the hotel hallway, and Klavier was a little too buzzed to feel bad for the rest of the people who had innocently checked into the place, blissfully unaware of the gig.

He only laughed rambunctiously too himself, loud enough for Daryan to hear through the door, and moved on down the long stretch of the hallway, heading towards his own room. He toyed with the key card in his hand, and swiped it, stepping inside and letting the heavy door slam shut behind him. He would apologize in the morning. There were a lot of things for the band to apologize for.

He prepared himself for bed, knowing the morning would be a nightmare. They had to pack back onto the tour bus and drive halfway across the city for the next gig- sold out, of course. He should never have agreed to go out with Daryan, but they had drank surprisingly little, and they would be fine by the time the gig started. He just need a few hours of sleep tonight, and then he could nap on the tour bus until they arrived.

He was about to crawl into bed and pass out until the shrillness of the alarm woke him up, but he had barely had his eyes blissfully shut for a second before his phone lit up, ringing and demanding his attention.

Klavier immediately sat up in bed, expression one of irritation. “Daryan,” He scolded the empty room, and grabbed his phone to answer. “Daryan,” He repeated. “What are you up to now?”

“Klavier,” His mother said on the other end of the line, and he could hear her frown. It was a skill the Gavin family seemed to possess, showing their facial expression with their tone of voice. “Where have you been?”

“Mutter?” He asked in greeting, expression faltering with surprise. “It’s,” He turned, checking the time on the bedside clock. “Three in the morning. I had a gig. What’s wrong?”

She growled over the line, a frustrated sound. “For God’s sake, Klavier, I’ve been trying to get ahold you all night. Do you take your phone anywhere?” She huffed out a sigh, and cut herself off, before continuing. “Did any reporters come up to you?” She demanded to know, and she didn’t sound at all tired- she clearly hadn’t slept. “Did they ask any questions?”

Completely confused, Klavier spluttered. “I- no, they didn’t. It was a perfectly normal night.”

“Good.” She only sounded a tiny bit relieved at that, and her tone had softened just a small amount. “Your tour needs to be cancelled.”

He almost dropped his phone at that, but he managed to keep his fingers clamped around it with sheer determination. He wasn’t showing any weakness, not to her. “What?!” He sat up in bed, the outrage churning in his gut. “I’m not cancelling my tour, mutter!”

“It’s only a couple more months.” She argued, ferociously. “And something’s come up- the press is going to be all over you.”

He ran a hand through his hair and rest his back against the headboard, tilting up his head and frowning at the ceiling. “I’m sure nothing will be that bad. What’s happened?”

There was a pause, long enough to be suspicious where Klavier could only hear his mother’s soft breaths, coming slow and regular. He took the time to close his eyes, letting out his own breath and spreading out his hair, loosening the locks. He had even less time to sleep now, and he didn’t like arguing with his mother, but he wasn’t cancelling the tour. It may have been only four more months, but that was a lot of shows, and a lot of fans to disappoint.

“Kristoph was put on trial and arrested for murder,” She then told him, bluntly, and Klavier’s hand froze, stopping dead. Her next words were vague, nonsensical, words he could barely hear above the sudden ringing in his ears. “He was mentoring for the trial, but the defence working underneath him turned around and accused him! And proved it, somehow!”

“Proved it?” Klavier burst. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know what happened- the trial was this morning, and I’ve only just landed in California, no one’s told me what happened. But he can’t have done it- I have no idea how it was proved. Where are you, right now? We need you here.”

“France.” He told her. His mind was spinning with too many thoughts- brother, murder, proof. “But I can’t just come to America, my tour-“

“I don’t care about your tour!” Her voice became close to hysterical. “Your brother is in jail! For murder!”

That stung, a deep cut, but he tried not to let it show across the phone. She had never cared for either of his careers, lawyer or musician. Not matter how impressive he was, she never cared. Klavier swallowed back the bitterness, and tried again, his voice low and reassuring. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He promised. “But I’m on tour, and I can’t just drop out. I’ve got dozens of shows to do, most of them sold out. My manager and the boys would kill me.”

“But he’s your brother!”

“I know!” Klavier snapped, frustration boiling over. “But I can’t come! I have to stay here, I’m sorry.”

The shock of her son snapping at her rendered her silent, but only for a few long, tortuous seconds- then, she cursed him, making a disgusted sound, and hung up.

Rather than listen to the silence on the other end, he dropped his phone to the bed, and covered his face with one hand. He felt physically sick, and he swallowed down the bile, trying to steady his quickened breathing. There was a mix of rage and fear- anger at his mother alongside the sorrow, and fear for his brother, that he had been arrested, for murder of all things. It couldn’t be possible, and Klavier would never believe it was true. Kristoph was not a murder.

He swore to himself, a low hiss, and his fingers went to the stim ring on his thumb. He toyed with it, agitatedly, and tried to calm himself down. He considered going to Daryan, asking for his advice or simply going for comfort- but he was probably already out like a light, knowing him.

Klavier wanted to hit something, the urge a difficult one to supress. Daryan was the one who stopped him, most of the time. Now there was no one to keep him calm, he was seriously considering it. He could afford the hotel’s bill, after all, and it would make him feel better instantly, even if it physically hurt his knuckles.

He pressed down the feeling, and tried to think through the surge of emotions. He had to go to California- Kristoph was his brother and his rock during his childhood, his mother was furious at him, and he had to figure out what had happened, how one trial had gone so badly wrong. He had to see the defence attorney who had gotten his brother locked away, and demanded what the fuck his damage was.

He had to- but he had to continue on with the tour. He couldn’t get out of it.

Fuck it, he thought, and then he was jumping out of bed, going for the nearest wall and lifting his clenched fist-

And then he stopped.

He could see his counter, skipping and jumping, lost in-between two very different numbers. It was going up, jumping to completely, different numbers, then settling back, and then dropping down to a matter of days. The lowest it reached was 39 hours. Previously, it had been counting down from two years.

Klavier didn’t know what it meant. He was torn between staying or going, upping and leaving or continuing on with his job. The choice had extra weight now- the decision considered his soulmate, too. He wanted to scream. The urge to hit the wall amplified.

He lowered his hand, and unclenched his fist. He stared at the plain plaster for a long time- and then he crawled back into bed, and covered up his head with his arms. He steadied his breathing, in and out, in and out.

He had to go- but he couldn’t.

He thought, for a long time, and the decision was not an easy one. He brought in all factors- both his job, his fans, his bandmates, his family, the defence attorney who tore down his brother.

Klavier made the decision to stay- but to talk with his band alongside his manager the next morning, to try and get the tour limited with full refunds to all disappointed fans. It was his halfway point- still doing his job, but returning to his family.

He uncovered his head and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling and knowing he would get a single wink of sleep, and waited for dawn to break.

On his wrist, his numbers settled to three months.

-

On the night of June the fourteenth, Klavier settled into bed looked to his wrist with sleep heavy eyes and saw a full month staring back at him.

On the morning of the next day, he didn’t bother looking at his counter.

He should have.

-

He had made his arrival known to the Chief Prosecutor the exact day he had returned, two months after his mother’s phone call. He had been welcomed back with a murder case, and he was grateful for the distraction. Now was not the time for music- it was a time for law.

Klavier had made no attempt to meet with his brother, or speak to his mother. He didn’t want to visit a murderer, a proved murderer, and he didn’t think his mother would appreciate a visit or even a phone call from her ‘traitor son’.

He would be meeting with the man who bested his brother however, a Mr Justice- in court, no doubt, and Klavier looked forward to the battle.

He woke up the day before the first session of court, with a clear mind but a burdened heart. He didn’t glance at his counter and moved on with his day, sweeping through his kitchen and eating a nutritious breakfast and making sure he looked his best for his first day back in the office. He would need to be functioning fully if he wanted to get that guilty verdict, if he wanted to put his all into clashing with this defence attorney.

He took his hog to the Prosecutions Office, first. He greeted all those he passed, many of which he hadn’t seen for a full seven years, and some gave him owl eyed stares as he passed them by. Klavier paid them no heed. He knew they were thinking that he would lose his very first return trial tomorrow and be shamed back to the Gavviners, but he was going to prove them wrong. It was unnatural to be judged by the Payne brothers- they were looking down on him like a loss to a rookie defence attorney would be shameful. He had kept up with most of their cases, and he wasn’t afraid to pull out some of the cases with Wright before he fell if they got too nasty.

Klavier returned to his office- a sight for sore eyes. It had barely been touched since he had left, and he found himself stepping around it and smiling, fingers tracing the guitars he kept on the walls. He had left them behind, but now he was back, and he even gave one a tuning, even as the time to court counted down. He was in no rush.

He spent some time there, relaxing and settling back in before he walked briskly to the police department to speak with the Fraulien Detective who loathed him so, receive reports- autopsy, and the like- and to speak with and prep the witness who was due to take the stand. It was all unspeakably dull for a murder trial and Klavier found himself wishing something more exciting would happen. He knew that court would be infinitely more exciting. He attempted to speak with the accused, and while he found that more interesting, it was also impossible- the vicious boy was hardly the most charming. He felt assured in his guilt, however, and that was all he needed to do his best.

All of it took a few hours in all- and as Klavier swung his leg over his hog with the intention of returning to his office to look over his reports, he paused. He had planned to visit the crime scene later when the Fraulien had moved on to prepare for court so she wouldn’t be around to feel harassed by him, but it made more sense to go to the crime scene sooner, rather than later, so he could run through all the information at his office. The detective could give him some useful information, despite her hatred for him, and maybe give him something to turn the trial in his favour if anything went wrong.

The decision didn’t take a long time. He chose to go to the crime scene first. He pulled away from the curb, slowly in case of ignorant approaching cars, and prepared for an hour or two of being mercilessly Snackoo’d.

-

By the time he arrived, parking around the street from the park and removing his helmet, shaking out his hair again and praying it didn’t look too awful, he could hear the sound of voices. They were raised, not quite shouting but getting there. He looked up, swinging a leg off his bike and arching an eyebrow.

Crowd control, he guessed, civilians trying to get into the crime scene. He didn’t envy the guards for their jobs at all. Klavier left his helmet beside the motorcycle and walked at a casual pace around to the entrance. The voices only got closer, and when he rounded the corner he saw two men bickering, with a young girl dressed like a magician by the younger man’s side. He tried not to be too judgemental.

The guard who he vaguely recognised saw him coming immediately, sparing him a brief glance but got dragged back into the passionate argument before he could greet him. Their vicious banter came quickly, something about denied entry, and Klavier refused to let himself get involved.

He cleared his throat and said, “Excuse me, coming through.”

The man and the girl were caught off guard, clearly unaware of his presence behind them, and Klavier could barely stop himself from laughing. They jumped almost a foot in the air and spun around with wide eyes. The guard looked a touch smug and the man shot him a fierce glare, before turning back to Klavier, no doubt meaning to step out of his way.

But when the man looked at him, he did a double take and stared for a long time.

Klavier inwardly winced. A fan, he assumed, perhaps one who had held tickets to some of the gigs he cancelled. He was ready to apologize and perhaps offer and autograph and a selfie with them both, but he wouldn’t be able to linger, and he would have to get the guard to escort them away if things got a little out of hand. He hoped it wouldn’t. The man was still staring, with something akin to panic in his eyes. Klavier hadn’t seen a response like that before.

“Hello, Mr Gavin.” The guard greeted him now the argument had clearly died, and Klavier greeted him in return with a nod and a slight smile. He didn’t know the guard by name. He looked to the strangely dressed girl, taking in her strange expression- clearly, she didn’t recognise him, but he could see the bright sparkle in her eyes that he had seen so often and meant she thought he was amazingly attractive. He had gotten used to seeing that in younger girls, and while it still made him feel a little uncomfortable he knew how to be a gentleman about it.

He tore his eyes away before she could think anything of it, and looked back to the man who still hadn’t stepped out of his path. He was still staring at Klavier with no shame, and Klavier felt a little confused- that was until the man jerked back into life like a puppet and urgently ripped his cuffs open, connected by a cheap little plastic button, and bore his wrist.

Klavier’s mind was temporarily slow on the update- but as soon as the familiar motion clicked, his heart dropped like a rock from his chest to his belly. His eyes fell to the man’s wrist, but he couldn’t quite see, and all he could do was check his own. He was praying as he pulled the fabric black, mind spinning with the possibilities- please let him be mine, I can’t stomach a repeat, please please please- and he took in his own counter with hungry eyes.

His counter was done. The night before, it had told him he had a whole month until this chance meeting- and now, it was done. Soulmate counters, when they finished together, were never wrong- and this man was Klavier’s soulmate.

He dimly wondered if his stunned expression looked as silly as his soulmate’s.

He let the revelation sink in for the moment, for his benefit as well as the strangers, but eventually he looked up, and greeted him with what he hoped was a blinding smile and showed him his wrist for proof. He hoped it didn’t look too much like a grimace. “Hello,” He greeted him, and Klavier’s voice was breathless. The delayed excitement was bubbling up within him- this man was his, and his alone.

The man looked completely dumbstruck, incapable of words, but he was strung together enough to offer Klavier his own counter. Klavier’s heart near stopped beating- the way he was being stared at told Klavier that his counter had finished too, but oh God, he had to be sure. He thought of the girl in detention all those years ago, and he had to see those zeros. He wouldn’t be able to rest until he did.

They were there. The counter was done, and matched his perfectly. “Oh, thank Gott.” He murmured, his voice so quiet he would wager only the man heard. He huffed out a tiny laugh, thinking of his ignorance. “Forgive me,” He said. He looked up- making eye contact with someone for the first time in a long while. “I didn’t check my counter this morning- last night, I had weeks left to go.”

“Mine said an hour only minutes ago.” The other man said, sounding just as thrown as Klavier was. They would be confused idiots together, he supposed.

 “I was going to go to my office. I was going to come along later. But I changed my mind, and the counter must have changed with my decision. Good thing, ja?”

“Oh, god.” The other man sounded weak- and then he flushed, as if realizing what he was saying. Klavier only laughed. The blush was frankly adorable, and he wanted to see more of it. He turned on the charm. “I must say, I’m used to being inspected by the ladies…” Putting his hands on his hips, he smiled as seductively as he could and leant forward, as if to perhaps kiss him. “But this is the first time I’ve ever felt this way with a man.”

The man’s blush did increase, vividly, but Klavier’s attention was snatched away by the girl’s indignant squeak at the man’s side. “You’re soulmates?” She burst.

“I’m pleased to say.” Klavier said, and it wasn’t a lie.

“Polly!” She sounded furious, and Klavier barely had time to question the name before she was steaming ahead. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to meet your soulmate today?”

“I thought,” ‘Polly’ said, clumsily. “I didn’t…”

He appeared to need rescuing, and so Klavier stepped in with a sunny smile. “I think neither of us noticed, Fraulien. Yesterday, my own counter said it would be weeks until I finally met you. But that has clearly changed.” Klavier had never been so grateful, even if it did completely interrupt his routine. If he had known, he would have planned something amazing. “Fate is a fickle thing, is she not? But it appears Lady Luck is on our side.”

 The girl was beaming away, bounding on her heels and looking between him and her friend. Klavier wondered what their relationship was- he would have perhaps guessed siblings, by their similar look. He looked chagrin enough to be her brother, too.

Klavier pressed ahead, curious. “What are you doing here?” He asked. “In such a dismal place? Can I be of any assistance, soulmate?” The word felt strange, dripping off his tongue, but it was delightful in the same way. It sent a vague shiver, a thrum of excitement through his body.

The girl spoke up after a beat of silence in which his soulmate only stared at him. He was clearly the type to be easily overwhelmed. “Yes!” She said, abruptly. “The policeman won’t let us in. We even have a letter of request.”

Klavier almost frowned, but he schooled his expression into something calmer. Why would you have a letter of request, he wondered, and almost asked to see it- but they had only just met. There would be time for that later.

Klavier tutted instead, only playfully, but the guard hung his head. “You must be exhausted, standing out here. I’ll take you both to the scene of the crime.”

“Really?” The girl was smiling at him like he was the sun after a long winter. He smiled in return, as brightly as he could, and her eyes went wide. He stepped forward, between them, and brushed just past his soulmate. It was the briefest of moments, but his soulmate jerked in surprise. Klavier grinned down at him, feeling the thrum of electricity between them, but he kept moving. He could hear both of them following him, right at his heels. “By your leave, officer.”

The man stuttered for a long moment, but eventually stepped side with a, “Yes, sir!”

Klavier smiled, pleased. He grabbed hold of the police tape and lifted it with a tiny bow. “This way.” The girl ducked under immediately, looking just as content, while the man followed her after a beat with a soft murmur of ‘thanks’. He ducked under himself, and kept closely to the man’s back. He had waited a quarter of a century for this moment, and he wouldn’t be parted from him so quickly, if he had his way. He couldn’t even tear his eyes off of him, and the man must have felt it- he turned, and offered him a shy smile. It made Klavier’s heart do things it hadn’t in years.

The entered the crime scene, the abandoned cart being the centre piece. He immediately spotted the Fraulien Detective, who saw him in turn, but he avoided her eyes the best he could. He didn’t want to bicker with her in front of his new companions- he didn’t want to make such a bad first impression, that he would argue with a detective. He halted when his soulmate did, sticking by his side, and once he saw the oddly put out look on his face, he decided to make a joke- albeit a poor one.

“This is where the magic happened.” He said, and he was pleased when his soulmate grinned. The Fraulien Detective looked greatly displeased, munching ominously on her snacks, and he still didn’t look at her properly.

“Thank you,” The man said, sounding genuinely thankful despite his previous facial expression- and he went to slip away, towards the scene. Everything about Klavier protested, and before he could control himself he reached out, grabbing his shoulder. It was only a light touch, thankfully, but he could tell his soulmate didn’t appreciate the contact. Klavier had always had a problem with that, invading other people’s personal space. “Excuse me.” He said in response, a little haltingly.

Klavier let him go immediately, filled with guilt. “I’m sorry,” He apologized as he stepped after him, trying to keep his eyes. “I just wanted to ask for your name.” Not appreciating the sudden tense air, he flashed him a grin, trying to remain playful. “Or will I have to work for it?”

The man’s lips twitched. “I might decide to be difficult. Tell me yours.”

That caught him a little off guard, his expectations being pulled out from underneath him, but he played it off like a joke. He leant backwards a little as if wounded, placing a hand over his heart and trying to look innocent, even as he grinned. He thought the man had recognised him, but he had either been wrong or he was pretending not to know. Klavier couldn’t tell which yet. “Why,” He said, his voice a purr. “You don’t know who I am?”

The man’s expression was nonplussed. “Should I?”

Klavier laughed a little, and shrugged. “Perhaps I am not as famous as everyone made me out to be. I am Klavier Gavin.”

Neither of the two seemed impressed, expressions remaining unaffected. Klavier wondered if he should applaud their acting skills, but it seemed genuine. They didn’t know him. “I have no idea who you are.” The man said honestly, confirming it.

“Such cruelty,” Klavier said in a sigh, hoping his expression gave away his joke. “But is that a trade? Will you tell me who you are?”

The man shrugged a little, shoulders bouncing. “I’m Apollo. Apollo Justice.”

Klavier almost leapt away, recoiling like he had been struck. He barely restrained himself, and steeled his entire body, praying he hadn’t seen his reaction. He felt like he had been punched in the gut, and he couldn’t wuite believe itThe man facing him, Apollo Justice, was the man who locked away his brother. The man who turned on Kristoph and sent him to jail. And he was his soulmate.

Klavier couldn’t believe it, but he had to keep the conversation flowing, like he hadn’t recognised the name. He tried to summon a smile, and hoped it wasn’t shaky. “I see,” He tried to sound thoughtful. “And what business does a man like you have investigating such a foul murder?”

He knew, he knew damn well, but he wanted to hear it from his mouth. He was only told the defence would be a Mr Justice, perhaps there were defence attorney twins-

“I’m a defence attorney. I’m defending the man accused of this murder.”

Klavier wanted to cry, so instead he laughed. It was like a gunshot, judging by the reactions of those around him. Apollo tensed up, shoulders twitching. “What’s so funny?” He asked, defensively.

Everything, Klavier thought, while he said, “Fate is a fickle thing indeed.” Emotions were warring with him- fury, laughter, pain. He didn’t want any of them to win. What a punchline his life was turning out to be. “I’m the prosecutor on this case.”

Apollo looked stunned, almost as badly as Klavier was. “Yes, oh.” He said. “What a fascinating case this well be.” He shook his head, feeling the headache begin to pulse. He knew the case would be fun- but what was fun at the cost of his sanity? He cleared his throat, carefully. “I.. I suppose I should be leaving you to your investigation, then, if this is to be a fair trial.” He would have to call the Frualien Detective later and have her give him a report of all evidence found. He would have to hope she didn’t miss anything- not that she would. She was excellent at her job.

They both look disappointed and almost stricken at that, and Klavier might have laughed once upon a time. He wanted to stay with his soulmate, he wanted to find out all he could about him and determine whether or not he could hate a man who simply served justice to Kristoph Gavin- but he didn’t think he would be able to stomach it today.

Apollo looked at him, a little tentative. “You don’t have to go.”

Trust me, Apollo. I have to go. It was tempting, though, to remain with this man that fate had given to him- but he couldn’t. He voiced that. “Tempting,” He said, letting his joy- no matter how complicated- shine through, supressing everything else. He looked to Fraulien Detective, still glowering, and thought about how angry she was going to be when he dragged her all the way to his office. “But I shouldn’t. I will see you tomorrow, in court.” He took a breath, energizing himself, and leaned forward, with a practised smile. Apollo leaned in too, and Klavier almost laughed at how surprised he looked at his own actions. “Don’t go telling anyone about our little thing. They might take one of us off the case if they find out. And I want the opportunity to see what my soulmate is made out of, ja?”

He wanted to see just how skilled the man who brought down his brother was, after all. That was something to look forward to, at least, and he found himself energized for the case again, despite everything- it would no doubt be the most exciting case of his career.

Apollo nodded, and there was a strange smile curling on his lips. “This case just got a lot more stressful.”

Klavier snorted out a laugh. “My apologies. But I feel this will be an interesting case, if you’re as mouthy in court as you were with the officer.” He took in a breath, looking from the entrance to the park where his hog awaited, from the detective to Apollo again. What a day this was turning out to be. “I hate to leave, after I have just found you. But we will see each other tomorrow.”

“We will,” Apollo promised with a nod, and it was almost a date. What an amazing first date he and Klavier were going on. He wondered if he should share that comment, see the blush once more- but decided against it.

“Do enjoy your investigation,” Klavier told him, as he reached into his jacket pocket. He hunted for the cards he kept within, for anyone who needed to contact him, only sometimes those in the professional world. He offered one to Apollo with a smile. “My card.” He told him, as Apollo took one. Apollo read it as he continued. “It’s my personal number- I always carry them around for the Frauliens.” He wondered too late if he should have said that- he saw Apollo arch an eyebrow, but it was too late to take back what had already been said. “But I think this is the last card I will give. Call me tonight?” Maybe he would be able to speak about Kristoph, once his headache had gone- but maybe it would nice to see Apollo as a person, a human being, before a defence attorney and rival.

“Right.” Apollo said, and Klavier recognised the lack of promise. He smiled, a touch ruefully, but winked to distract him. There was the blush again, and it delighted him despite everything.

“It was a pleasure.” Klavier said and took a tiny bow before he was gone. He headed down the path, hoping Apollo was wondering about the mysterious man who had swept into his life, thanks to fate, but he was aware that he ruined the effect a little when he turned back and glanced, taking one last look at the person designated to be his soulmate. He found he missed him already, feeling stranger and stranger the further he got. Klavier wondered if all soulmates felt that way.

He went to his hog without a second thought, trying to push it all away and think mostly about the case. For his problems with his soulmate to be solved, he simply had to wait for time to pass.

He hated feeling like he was at time’s mercy.