Chapter Text
The Gavin household was quiet in the evenings.
Then again, it was hardly loud in the first place. Klavier and Kristoph were lucky to have a peaceful abode, safely tucked away from the prying eyes of human beings. Their home was nothing more than a hole in the wall, accessible through a loose baseboard hidden behind a shelf. It was well-hidden from the humans roaming the outside world—the most important quality in a borrower’s home. Secrecy was always the top priority.
But thankfully, the home was also very cozy. It was small and cramped, but with only two borrowers living there, space was hardly an issue. Every corner was stuffed with their assorted belongings: paper clips, spools of thread, torn strips of paper, and much more. A matchbox served as their dining table, with two dice as seats, and a single salted cracker took up all the space on their makeshift tabletop.
Life was hard as a borrower, but Klavier figured he had it lucky. Most borrowers were loners by necessity or unfortunate circumstance, but Klavier had his older brother by his side. Kristoph was cunning and capable, besides being far more experienced, and Klavier wasn’t sure how he would survive without someone to talk to. Kristoph’s presence in his life was nothing short of a blessing.
The floorboards creaked overhead. The human who worked in the office must have forgotten something and come back to retrieve it. It hardly fazed Kristoph, though—he kept his hands busy and eyes focused on the torn jacket he was trying to repair. Klavier glanced up for only a moment before shrugging. Nothing unusual so far, just footsteps. No reason to panic.
It happened so fast—the whole ordeal took about three seconds, tops. But to Klavier, it felt like hours.
One moment, everything was peaceful. Kristoph continued to patch the tear in his jacket, and Klavier whistled a tune while cooking stew over a lighter. The world was calm and serene. Everything was fine.
And then the roof caved in. Literally.
Klavier barely had time to register happened before he was blinded by a sudden onslaught of daylight. He cried out in alarm and tripped over his own feet; he looked up just in time to see the enormous shadow of a hand descending upon him. A finger and thumb roughly snatched his leg, and before he knew it, Klavier was dangling upside-down dozens of feet in the air.
Their secret home was no longer a secret. A human had found them.
Harsh light danced in his vision, but Klavier managed to make out the blurry silhouette of Kristoph, clutched in a huge fist that pinned his arms to his sides. Klavier opened his mouth to shout his brother’s name, but he choked on his breath and erupted into a fit of coughs.
The human said something in a language Klavier only passively recognized, but it was loud. Too loud. Was that English? What was the human even saying? Klavier bit back a sob.
“Don’t speak, Klavier,” Kristoph called out in his mother tongue. He sounded incredibly calm for a borrower caught in a human’s grasp. His eyes were wild and panicked, but he managed to speak clearly and without wavering. “Let me do the talking. Stay quiet.”
Klavier felt the fingers pinching his leg shift around, and suddenly, he was sitting in a cupped palm, his chest roughly pinned by a single thumb. He stared upwards, startled by the enormous face that encompassed his entire peripheral. Sharp grey eyes pierced right through him. Klavier had to force himself to keep breathing. Dear god, his leg was so sore.
The human stared back at him for only a few seconds before turning his attention to his other hand—the one Kristoph was being held in. “You speak German?”
Kristoph’s eyebrows shot up. “…Yes. And so do you, apparently.”
“Who are you? What are you doing in Wright’s office?”
“Kristoph. The boy in your other hand is my little brother.” Kristoph glanced at Klavier warily, squirming against the firm grip of the human’s fist. “As for what we’re doing here… this is our home. You just ripped off my roof.”
“This…” The human trailed off, staring at the newly-made hole in the floor. “…You live here?”
“That’s what I said.” Kristoph averted his gaze to look back at Klavier, still pinned onto his back. “…Oh, dear. I believe you’ve injured his leg.”
Klavier blinked owlishly. Leg? Injured? He peered over the side of the overbearing thumb. The skin of his leg was dotting purple, and the area near his knee had begun to swell up. If the leg bones weren’t fractured, then they were certainly bruised.
“…Ah. My apologies.” The human moved around, muttering something under his breath, and then Klavier felt himself being lowered downwards. Suddenly, he was lying on a cold, hard countertop, staring at the glaring overhead light. The human moved farther away from the counter, with Kristoph still firmly in his grasp.
Kristoph hummed and smiled up at the human that was holding them hostage. “So… Are you going to introduce yourself, or…?”
“...Miles Edgeworth,” the human said belatedly, distracted and awestruck. “Kristoph, you said your name was? Why does that sound familiar?”
“It’s a common name.”
“No…” The brows on Miles’ face furrowed deeply. “…No. I recognize you. I’ve… I’ve seen you before.”
“That’s highly unlikely.”
“The summer of 2010… at the von Karma estate in Berlin.” Miles nodded slowly. “…Yes, I remember now. That was you, wasn't it? The tiny man we found?”
“How could you possibly…” Kristoph trailed off. A faint look of horror dawned on his face. “…Ah.”
Klavier, meanwhile, frantically racked his brains to recall the incident in question. He and Kristoph used to live in a mansion in Germany but were discovered by the owner and his two children years ago. Klavier was only about eight years old back then, but even after so long, he was beginning to remember the owner’s son—the one who placed them in bird cages to keep them from escaping.
Grey locks, perpetual frown, and haunting eyes.
Miles Edgeworth was, without question, one of the humans who upended his old life.
And here he was again, threatening to ruin everything once more. Or would Miles simply kill them both this time? Who could say? All Klavier knew was that he could hardly see anything through all his tears. The world was so blurry. And his leg hurt so much.
Human and borrower were silent for a moment, save for Klavier’s suppressed sobs. He felt rather pathetic, crying like a child, but he couldn’t help it. His home was destroyed, his leg was in pain, and he and his brother were about to meet a terrible fate at the hands of a human. Klavier just wanted to wake up from this horrible nightmare.
“If you don’t mind,” Kristoph said suddenly, “I’d like to be with my brother for a moment.”
Miles was silent for a second, seemingly contemplating the humble request. And then, moments later, Klavier felt Kristoph’s hands cupping his cheeks. He blinked rapidly to clear his vision of tears, staring up at his brother’s face. “…K–Kris…”
Kristoph smiled, kneeling by Klavier’s side. “Don’t cry, Klavier. It’s unbecoming of you.”
“I…” Klavier bit his lip so hard that it drew blood. “…I’m scared, Kris. I don’t want to die.”
“Hush, none of that. We’re going to be fine.” A series of beeps sounded, followed by a quiet click. Miles had pulled out his cellphone and began speaking with someone on the other end. Kristoph looked in the human’s direction, his eyes narrowing angrily, before returning their focus to Klavier. “I need you to do something for me. Close your eyes.”
Klavier had no energy to argue. He let gravity close his eyelids on their own.
“Good. Now… count to ten, nice and slow. Remember to breathe. Can you do that for me?”
He nodded. That was simple. Klavier could do that. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and began counting.
Eins. Klavier sucked in a long, deep breath and cringed at the pain it caused.
Zwei. He exhaled. Exhaling was a bit easier.
Drei. Kristoph’s gentle hands left his face. Klavier was so, so cold. He'd never wanted a hug so badly in his life.
Vier. The pain in his leg flared up again. Klavier bit back a cry. He had to stay strong. He had to keep going... for Kristoph.
Fünf. For a moment, the world was still and quiet. Klavier could pretend that he was in his bed next to his older brother. He could pretend that everything was fine.
Sechs. Miles suddenly gasped and barked something in English. Klavier didn’t understand a word of it. He kept counting.
Sieben. Thundering footsteps rattled Klavier’s body around. He flinched violently, but his eyes stayed closed.
Acht. Something clattered onto the ground. Miles shouted again, this time in German. “Stop! Hold it!”
Neun. Klavier wondered if he was going to die. Was this the end of the line? Would Kristoph die too? Klavier couldn’t bear the thought of living without his brother. Just thinking about it made Klavier feel sick to his stomach.
Zehn.
Klavier finally opened his eyes. He rolled his head over and glanced at his brother—or rather, at the spot where his brother was sitting ten seconds prior. But that spot was empty now, and Kristoph was nowhere to be seen. He rolled his head farther, along the countertop, just in time to see Kristoph leaping off the countertop. The oncoming hand of Miles swiped at him, but he was too late. Kristoph’s feet thumped quietly onto the table nearby. He was trying to escape.
The human had dropped his phone and fell to all fours, pawing at the tabletop where Kristoph had probably landed. Klavier couldn’t see any of it from his vantage point.
“Kristoph!” he screamed, choking back a sob of pain. “K–Kris, don’t leave me!”
Miles let out a frustrated grunt and shot a dirty look at Klavier as he shot up to his full height. The hardened gaze softened when Klavier cringed and folded in on himself. “Where is he going?!” Miles asked firmly.
Klavier’s mouth was bone dry.
“Kristoph. Your brother. Where is he going?” Miles pointed angrily at the ground. “I know you can understand me. Now talk!”
“He didn’t…” Klavier’s voice cracked. Kristoph must have used Miles’ phone call as a distraction. He’d taken the opportunity to escape the room, leaving Klavier behind to take the brunt of the human’s wrath. Klavier swallowed hard. “He… left?”
Miles stared down at Klavier, an unreadable expression crossing his face.
“Well… good!” Klavier grunted, cradling his sore leg with his hands. It took all his courage to look up at Miles’ face without cowering. “That’s good! You’ll never find him again! Kristoph is going somewhere far away, a–and… and he’ll be safe from you!”
“…He left you behind.”
“No, he wouldn’t—”
“I think… I think he’s abandoned you.”
“No!” Klavier snarled. “Shut up. My brother would never leave me.”
Miles fell silent. He bent down and disappeared from view, then returned to a stand with his cellphone. He must have dropped it in the chaos of Kristoph’s escape. “Yes, hello,” he whispered into the receiver. The rest of the conversation carried on in English. Klavier didn’t bother trying to understand what Miles was saying—he had to focus on escaping before the human decided to trap him somewhere more secure.
Boosted by a fit of adrenaline, Klavier rolled onto his stomach and struggled to crawl away with all his might. There were no borrower exits on this countertop, and there was no way for him to get down with his busted leg, but Klavier wasn’t going to let that stop him from trying. The conversation carried on overhead; Miles buried his face into his free hand, his voice tinged with sorrow and anger.
And then Miles turned a bit, his narrowed eyes meeting Klavier’s frightened ones.
Klavier gasped sharply and sped away as quickly as his aching body would allow… which wasn’t nearly fast enough. Before he even cleared a foot of distance, Klavier’s body was suddenly shrouded in darkness. A circular wall of glass—a coffee mug—had descended upon him, trapping him like a wild animal. Klavier banged on the wall, still flopped onto his stomach, but to no avail.
Klavier was trapped, and this time, Kristoph wasn’t around to save him.