Chapter Text
Ask anybody, and they'd tell you:
Kristoph Gavin was a very unusual attorney.
For starters, he was a lone wolf in the most literal sense of the term. Kristoph owned and operated Gavin Law Offices all by himself and hadn't hired any employees since he opened his doors for the very first time. There were no secretaries, no interns, and no overeager law students gazing over his shoulder during trials. Kristoph preferred it that way. He didn't trust anyone to do their job to his standards, and he hardly had the time to be a decent mentor. Even if having other people at the firm would make his job easier, it would certainly bring about its own problems.
Somewhat paradoxically, Kristoph was also incredibly renowned and well-respected despite being the sole attorney at Gavin Law Offices. His lobby was consistently bustling with potential clients from all walks of life, even though he barely advertised his firm anywhere. Recommendations from his previous clients were more than enough to put his firm on the map. Scarcely a day went by when Kristoph's inbox wasn't inundated with requests for representation.
Today was one of those precious few days where business was relatively slow. Kristoph had still received two emails asking for legal counsel, both of which he'd already answered. Otherwise, his schedule was free enough to catch up on paperwork and other mundanities. Kristoph sat in front of the lobby computer, clacking away at the reception desk keyboard for hours.
Sometime close to mid-afternoon, the front door suddenly swung open. Kristoph peered over the rim of his glasses at the visitor who stepped inside. A young man (barely eighteen, if Kristoph had to guess) stood awkwardly on the plush lobby carpet, resembling a lost child. His tousled black hair shot up past the brim of his cap, and his brown eyes were narrowed and searching.
Silence settled into the lobby, and the boy said absolutely nothing. He hadn't even looked up at Kristoph yet. Kristoph grew tired of waiting for a greeting, so he spoke up first. "…Can I help you?"
"Oh!" The boy jolted and suddenly met Kristoph's eyes. It appeared that he'd been scanning the floor beneath him. Perhaps he was nervous, although Kristoph couldn't imagine why that could be. "S–sorry, mister. I'm just looking for something."
"You haven't been here before." It was a statement of fact, not a question. Kristoph never forgot a face. "How could you have left something behind if you've never—"
The boy shook his head firmly. "No, no, it's not like that! Sorry, English is hard." He shoved his balled fists into his pockets and hunched his shoulders. Kristoph didn't miss the sudden glistening of sweat crossing his face. "I'm trying to find a… um… a person. I lost a person."
Kristoph stared incredulously for a moment. "…You're looking for someone."
"Yes."
What a strange way to phrase that, Kristoph thought. "No one else has been here today." He spoke carefully and plainly, studying the boy's reactions.
"Oh." The boy frowned. "Wait, really?"
"Really."
"Oh." He pulled his hands out of his pockets and folded his arms. "Well… okay. Maybe he went somewhere else."
Without any further ado, the strange young man spun on his heels and darted back out the front door. No goodbyes, no apologies, not even a thank-you. He was as gone as quickly as he'd arrived.
Kristoph was too baffled and confused to be offended. At least the encounter with the rude boy would make for an entertaining story later.
Perhaps he could share the story over dinner? Kristoph checked the clock on his desk; it was almost time to meet with a friend for borscht and wine.
Kristoph saved the document he'd been working on and shut the computer off. He had more than enough time to make it to the restaurant but decided to leave early just in case. Los Angeles traffic was somewhat fickle, after all. Stretching his arms and back, Kristoph stood and made his way to the back room, where his personal office was. He needed to fetch his coat and car keys before he could leave.
But as he pushed the office door open, glancing at his desk for his keyring, Kristoph was met with an unexpected surprise.
A small array of case files were laid upon the desktop. Kristoph already went through them with a pen and a highlighter earlier that day but left them in the open in case he needed to access them later. What Kristoph didn't expect to find was a minuscule figure, not even four inches tall, hunched over the upper page of the first case file. Given the distance, it was difficult to tell, but Kristoph deduced that he must be a very young man, practically a teenager, given his physique and boyish features. And it seemed that he hadn't noticed Kristoph walk into the room.
A tiny person. A borrower.
Kristoph smiled brightly, entranced by the unexpected sight. "Well, I'll be."
At the sound of Kristoph's voice, the boy let out an undignified squawk and tripped over their own feet, sprawling face-first upon the manila folder. Kristoph took a step towards the desk, and the small young man shot back up to his feet, heaving and panting.
Now that Kristoph was a bit closer, he could make out the tattered, patchwork clothes the small person donned and the two strands of brown hair dangling over his face. His eyes were wide and panicked, filled with overwhelming fear. "I–I–I'm sorry," the borrower said suddenly. The boy's voice was cracked and shaky and unsteady. He could barely get a word out without stammering helplessly. "I d–didn't… I–I was just… I'm s–so sorry."
"Sorry?" Kristoph stepped forward again, tilting his head to the left a bit. "I'm curious what you think you're sorry for."
The boy gulped audibly as Kristoph slowly approached him. He backtracked and stepped off the documents, cringing when he saw his own footprints littering the pristine pages. "F–for sneaking into your office," the boy replied carefully, his eyes wandering over papers he stood by, "a–and for looking at your stuff."
"Oh, those?" Kristoph shook his head. "Those are public records. You haven't broken any laws by looking at them." His narrowed gaze locked back onto the tiny man, freezing him where he stood. "Except for trespassing, of course."
"I–I'm so sorry. I–I was—"
"What's your name, young man?" Kristoph asked. He finally made his way to the desk and knelt beside it, lowering his face to the tiny person's level. "I believe I deserve to know that much, at least."
"Um, m–my name's Apollo."
What an odd name. Befitting for such an odd boy. Kristoph stared at Apollo thoughtfully, taking in every detail that his eyes could swallow. Apollo stood erectly with his back kept straight, although his buckling knees threatened to give out at any second. His eyes were wild but sharp—there was a focus and alertness to them that was almost uncanny. A golden bangle looped his left wrist, glimmering under the light of a reading lamp. Apollo kept fiddling with it ceaselessly.
Kristoph figured that Apollo must be the strangest person to ever come into his office.
"And what are you, exactly?" Kristoph already knew the answer, of course. But he was curious how Apollo would choose to reply.
"A borrower, sir." Apollo's hands suddenly shot to his mouth, cupping it shut before he immediately started tearing up. "B–but please don't tell anyone!" he cried, his breathing speeding up again. "It's supposed to be a secret! Oh my god, I–I really messed up…"
Kristoph chuckled a few times, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "My lips are sealed, Apollo. Don't fret."
"…Y–you won't tell?"
"Not if you answer all my questions. I have to clarify a few things."
"O–okay." Apollo looked incredibly meek. Kristoph almost felt some semblance of pity. "I–I’ll do it."
"Very well then, Apollo… would you start by explaining why you've invaded my office?" Kristoph smiled coyly, drumming his fingers along his cheek. "You're looking through these case files, aren't you? I can't imagine what you could possibly want from them."
"Ngh..." Apollo flinched, his right hand shooting out to grab his bracelet and massage it nervously. He seemed awfully uneasy in the darkness of Kristoph's looming shadow. "I–I wasn't looking for anything really, sir. I just wanted to read them."
"You're interested in law, then?"
"Yes, sir."
It was meant as a rhetorical question, a sarcastic jab to throw Apollo off-kilter. Kristoph hadn't expected such a genuine response. He blinked, taken aback by the reply. "…Is that so?"
"My father was a defence attorney." Apollo's hand wandered up to the collar of his patchwork shirt to grasp at something. Kristoph hadn't spotted it earlier since it was so small, but a handmade attorney's badge was pinned to the fabric near Apollo's heart, glimmering faintly. It was crafted from tinfoil and coated in yellow paint. "I want to do what he did… to fight for the truth. To save people when nobody believes in them. That's why I, um…"
Apollo suddenly trailed off, and a faint blush crossed his cheeks. He seemed embarrassed.
"Well, i–it’s why I've been coming here so often, sir. People say you're the best defence attorney in the whole city. I wanted to learn from you."
A hum escaped Kristoph's throat. “So you sneak in here regularly.” Apparently, Kristoph wasn't as observant as he liked to think he was, given that this tiny teenager was lurking in the firm without his knowledge. If Apollo's word was to be believed, the young borrower had been in his office more than a few times, which greatly unsettled Kristoph.
And the way Apollo spoke, his eyes sparkling when he mentioned truth and belief… Kristoph was reminded of someone else he knew. Someone just as naive and gullible.
"I won't come back," Apollo stuttered, wringing his hands together. "I'll leave, and I'll never even look at your office ever again. Please, just…" He squeezed his eyelids shut, and the tears threatening his eyes finally began to trickle down his cheek. "Please let me go. I'm so sorry."
"No. I'm not done with my questions."
Apollo nodded silently, his lips pressed into a tight line as tears continued to stream out of his eyes. Kristoph's eyes wandered further down Apollo's trembling body, landing on the golden bracelet that the borrower kept toying with. It kept catching Kristoph’s eye. Hadn’t he seen a similar bracelet elsewhere before?
"That bracelet... Tell me about it."
"It belonged to my mother," Apollo choked. "Th–that’s all I know, sir."
Kristoph held out two fingers, gesturing for Apollo to offer his hand. The borrower clenched his hands against his chest instinctively, but when Kristoph frowned, Apollo gave in and set his banded hand upon Kristoph's fingertip.
"This design is very intricate," Kristoph mused. And very familiar, too. "You say your mother gave it to you?"
"It's all I have left of her, sir... Sh–she gave it to me when I was a baby."
Kristoph hummed. "Fascinating." So Apollo wasn't just a random borrower after all; Fate had guided young Apollo right to Kristoph's office for his convenience. But what to do about such a development? Where to go from here?
Kill him, obviously.
Did he have to resort to that, though? Besides not being eager to clean up such a mess, Kristoph knew it was always smarter to let people live unless absolutely necessary. Those left alive can be useful assets, informants, scapegoats, and in Apollo's case specifically, sources of amusement.
And best of all, Apollo didn’t even know.
Maybe there was an alternative, one that would serve both of them well. Kristoph knew himself to be clever—undoubtedly clever enough to keep Apollo in the dark for as long as he needed to.
And there was always the option of killing him later if it came to that.
"How often do you sneak in here?" Kristoph asked.
Apollo gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. "M–maybe once a week…"
"Hmm." Kristoph frowned deeply. "No, that won't do. That won't do at all." He suddenly rose to his full height, startling Apollo and causing him to tumble onto his backside. "Legal studies are incredibly demanding. If you truly want to become an attorney, you must be willing to work for it daily."
Apollo bit his lip anxiously. "Sir?"
"That's Mr. Gavin to you." Kristoph folded his arms and stared down at Apollo. "I don't tolerate lukewarm efforts in my firm. Every morning at seven o'clock, you will be here. And you will work ceaselessly if you expect to learn anything from me. Is that clear?"
"Wha… What?" Apollo rubbed at his eyes, stunned into a stupor. "Y–you… But…"
"Apollo," Kristoph said curtly, cutting him off, "do you have a surname?"
"Y–yes, it's Justice. B–but… M–Mr. Gavin…"
"How fitting," Kristoph quipped with a half-smirk. "Well, Mr. Justice… I don't usually take students under my wing, but it appears that I'll have to make an exception. I trust you'll be here on time tomorrow?"
"…You mean it?" Apollo breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You… you want to teach me law?"
"You're promising." And intriguing, Kristoph added mentally, although he didn't say that part aloud. "My peers have advised me to mentor a student someday… and I see nobody else in this room to teach."
Apollo's face went through about four different expressions within a second or two. First, there was a flicker of overwhelming doubt, then hesitation, followed by total shock and unbridled joy. "Thank you!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, leaping to his feet. Kristoph winced at the unexpectedly loud volume. "I promise to be the best student you could ever ask for! I'll do your boring paperwork for you! I'll scrub the toilet too if you want!"
"That's quite alright," Kristoph sighed, rubbing at the inside of his ear. "Just go home for now. I'll be ready for you in the morning."
"Yes, sir! I–I mean, Mr. Gavin, sir!" Apollo couldn't help the grin that plastered itself upon his lips. He made his way to the wall the desk was pushed up against, practically vibrating with excitement. "I'll be here super early! Promise!"
"I hope so."
Apollo grinned even wider at Kristoph. Then, with a single shove of his arm, Apollo seemingly disappeared into thin air. Kristoph blinked rapidly and hunched forward, unsure of what happened, before finally noticing Apollo's exit. The faintest outline dotted the wall where Apollo previously stood, indicating an entrance was hidden there.
A hidden door. This must've been how Apollo always snuck into the office so easily.
"A disappearing act... It figures." Kristoph smiled to himself, propping his face upon his palm. "Very well, Mr. Justice... Let's see if you live up to expectations."