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Apollo Justice didn’t like airplanes.
His acrophobia played no insignificant part in that fact. While he wasn’t a fan of heights as long as his memory served him, the intensity of the fear had increased relatively recently. How could it not, when the destination of a long climb on a tower reaching towards the rafters of a rock concert stage held the horrifying scene of a man’s corpse and an unconscious boy—not dead, but at first glance also seemingly having left the mortal coil. It only seemed reasonable that he would be perfectly content with not having to ascend any ladders for the rest of his life.
His hydrophobia also contributed to this antipathy. However, here he could pinpoint the start of his fear with unprecedented clarity—an accident in his childhood, where he and his foster brother got swept up in the rapids and only got rescued in the last moment. His horror only got reinvigorated a little more than a year ago, where his search for the artefact known as the Founder’s Orb lead him to a dark underground cave that rapidly filled with seawater during a high tide. Once again, he got freed from his predicament only moments from demise, by the same person nonetheless. He would lie if sometimes just thinking about that damp, dour cavern didn’t make him break out in cold sweat, as well as raise his heart rate and the pace of breath.
And yet, despite these obstacles, Apollo would brave this airborne mode of transportation. It was the fastest and most efficient way to complete the journey between the Kingdom of Khura’in and the west coast of America.
Nestled safely in his aisle seat, far from the square viewport displaying vast miles of insurmountable blue depths—both nautical and aerial—the red-clad attorney anxiously waited in the stiff chair of the economy class. He was completely encased by the musty air, full of murmurs of adults and screams of children; everyone packed together like sardines in a particularly small can, sitting in uniform seats designed more for efficiency, not comfort. If claustrophobia had been a part of his dread complex, he wouldn’t be here at all.
He could thank his lucky stars he had been able to fall asleep for the most of the flight, waking up with a startled snort several hours later, as the slightly shrill mechanical announcement rang throughout the airplane, “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be landing at the Los Angeles International Airport shortly. The local time is 8:47 AM. Current temperature is 93 degrees, with an estimated high of one hundred and five. Please ensure that…” He already felt half-dead from exhaustion and worry, so staying well hydrated was a top priority in this heat wave.
As the captain continued his explanation of safety protocols as dry as the air at their destination, Apollo took a moment to reflect on the monumentality of the fact that he has returned to California. He had made that life-changing decision last year in May—to remain in Khura’in to try and repair the horrendous state its law system was in, after Ga’ran—an illegitimate dictator under the guise of a theocratic monarch—had enacted brutal, unfair laws to keep an iron grip on the judiciary and, by extension, the country itself.
He felt that was the best way to repay his dues to Dhurke, his former fearless freedom fighting foster father and dashingly daring Defiant Dragon. The same trial that deposed the ex-queen from power also revealed the horrifying truth of him having perished in the line of duty, so to say that the choice to remain was affected by Apollo’s emotions running high would be an understatement. After the lawyer had the time to calm down and mull it over, he had to call Dhurke’s actions somewhat reckless, poorly thought out and … quite selfish, even if they were for a greater cause.
For example, why did he only re-establish contact with Apollo after such a long time had passed? He had initially promised to return to the lawyer relatively soon, and yet it took him more than 10 years and his own demise for that to happen. It only served to sour the relationship between the two of them. Not to mention when he finally did return, the first thing he did was ask Apollo for help, which didn’t help improving the young attorney’s disposition.
And why was he so reckless? Of course, he had died, so there wasn’t much that could harm him, but Maya Fey, assistant of Apollo’s former boss, was still alive as she channelled him! She was put in the line of fire—and sometimes even quite literally—by him openly taunting Queen Ga’ran and her host of armed guards, as well as diving headfirst into a dangerous cave without any preparation or second thought! She could’ve perished as well!
And why didn’t he just disclose that he was dead ahead of time? Why did he leave the fact for Apollo to figure out in the middle of the trial? A timely reveal would spare him the anguish of finding it out amidst the most stressful day of his life so far! Even if he knew, the lawyer would still help the revolutionary, as the cause was just!
And why…
Apollo clicked the seatbelt in place as he finished the preparations for the landing. While the reunion with Dhurke wasn’t completely congenial, the freedom fighter really did seem to care about the attorney, did try to make amends, and Apollo was given a wonderful opportunity for a lawyer—to help a lot of wronged people in need. He would be content.
The attorney braced as the sudden feeling of descent and landing made his guts press up to his chest. He didn’t like that part.
Minutes later, he stood in the airport reception, taking a moment to look around the wide open area. Slopes and arches of white dominated the ceiling; large columns of clear paned glass displayed the sights of the outside world; little huts of various brand stores lined across the walls or clumped together in large herds in the middle of the room, eager to relieve the passers-by of their money; a sea of passengers, welcoming parties and visitors bustling around, ever in motion. A stark contrast to the ethereal beauty of Khura’in. Apollo started to make progress towards the baggage carousel, once again absorbed in his thoughts.
Khura’in truly was a different beast. A theocratic monarchy that had survived into the 21st century thanks to spirit channelling. A relic, some would say. So traditional and sanctified, in both aesthetics and people. However, as much as Apollo loathed to admit it, said people had given him no shortage of trouble. Sure, the young lawyer was instrumental in removing the illegitimate leader from their country, and that should’ve ensured that he was lauded as a hero. However, the truth was far less idealistic.
These citizens had been ruled by Ga’ran for 23 years. 23 years of being constantly told that all defence lawyers are the scum of the earth, just like the despicable man who had killed their beloved queen. 23 years of constant propaganda, executions, manipulation. 23 long years of being taught to hate, to fear, to despise, to degrade. These convictions would not fade overnight.
Sure, there were people who were fast to accept the new status quo. Open minded folks, the younger generations, those who had aided the rebels. Apollo thanked the Holy Mother every time one of his clients was one of these individuals. But most of those he helped weren’t so pleasant. Their ranks weren’t completely homogenous, ranging from irritating to outright malicious.
On one end, there were the indifferent. They paid no heed to Apollo’s speciality and saw him as just another menial they could order around. These people had fallen for Princess Rayfa’s “special offer” and simply asked the lawyer to help with whatever ordinary task they needed to complete, even including the much dreaded “yak milking” the young monarch had put up as an example on that damned flyer. Apollo tried to protest, saying that his skills would be focused on the field of legal defence, but the royal family persuaded him, to “build up his reputation and show his goodwill.” The complaints were in vain. Thankfully, these people became less common as time went on.
On the other side of the spectrum there were the Ga’ran loyalists. People fanatically loyal to the ex-queen, and willing to do anything to undermine the kingdom’s new rulers. One of them had already made a suicidal assassination attempt on Nahyuta’s life. Someone who had lost their family to the prosecutor’s misdeeds, it turned out. Extra security had been assigned to Justice Law Offices after the incident, but Apollo would be lying if he said that just the idea of ever-persistent threat of murder didn’t bring a chill to his bones. It added an additional, constant layer of stress to his every day, like a background radiation of worry. As if he didn’t have ample quantities of that!
The rest stood between these two extremes. Those who still couldn’t muster respect for a lawyer because of his profession out of habit, yet still required his services; the entitled ones who thought that the lawyer was there to solve every single legal problem they had with no regard for him or other clients; those who constantly begged for pro-bono work; those who were elderly and simply longed for stability that no revolution by its very nature could grant; those who valued tradition and 23 years were enough to establish it… And the gargantuan amount of them!
The sincere thanks were scarce, and soon so was his willpower.
Apollo finally spotted his suitcase on the carousel, picked it up with a grunt of effort and made his way towards the exit of the building, still deep in thought. He hated to admit it, but yet again he felt like a seed of doubt had sprouted in his mind, growing its roots deep inside his brain, which made it extremely hard to uproot.
Had he actually done enough?
It felt like he had been constantly swamped in cases, solving disputes, disagreements and mysteries. At certain points, he felt like he was almost drowning in them. Of course, it was important work, as justice was dispensed. But in the long run, it didn’t leave an impact on the justice system itself. It just cleared the backlog of cases piled up. It was like treating one of the symptoms instead of the cause of the malady.
What actually seemed more helpful was the fact that Nahyuta and queen Amara had called for meetings to lay the groundwork for the changes in the law itself. Apollo, as the sole defence attorney in the land, had been invited to every single one, whenever the case-load allowed him to join. He tried to help and provided his honest opinion on various issues. But it had always felt like that was way out of his league—that was a job for ministers, chief prosecutors and the like. Not one overworked attorney.
Additionally, over time, various other people hoping to become defence lawyers had come to learn the craft from Apollo. At first, he felt honoured. But once again, the massive case-load meant that the attorney couldn’t spare much time doing actual mentoring. He could teach by example, by having them observe his trials, but they were all fleeting experiences, with no time to really delve into what made them work. Shallow, shallow, shallow.
The main relief force finally came about a year later. Back home, Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth had finally replenished the prosecutor’s office with honest, trustworthy people after the culling caused by the end of the Dark Age of the Law, and now could spare more attention to external affairs. He sent a small group of law specialists to Khura’in, and these people seemed far more qualified to resolve the situation in the kingdom. A few months after that, Apollo figured that Khura’in is stable enough for him to return to the States. But…
All the introspection put a bit more pep in his step, as his gait towards the exit of the terminal turned from steady to rapid. His heart beat a mile a minute as he considered how he had only been grinding cases with almost no pause, rarely graced with the relief of a sincere thanks; with no real progress made to the larger picture of the recovery of the law itself just because he was a meagre, insignificant lawyer who needed to fill the shoes insurmountably larger than he could ever hope to have in his lifetime; with constant pressure upon him as a whole nation gazed on his office, observing his miniscule headway he had made and following right behind him with quick, loud footsteps; said pressure drowning him with no solace in sight, tossing him about as he struggled around, squeezing the life out of him like two strong arms wrapped around his waist and-
*GOTCHA!* a cheery voice rang out.
Wait, this pair of arms isn’t metaphorical.
Just then, he felt himself getting picked up by his midriff and spun around in the air to the merry sound of infectious giggling by someone he knew quite well…
“Apollo, you’re baaaaaaack!” the soft chimes of that laughter got replaced by the voice he had only heard over cheap speakers for the longest time; the one he had longed to sense clearly ever since it declared honest love for him…
“Woah, tiger! Let me down before you hurt yourself! Or me, for that matter!” Apollo cried out, his dizziness increasing by the second because of this effusive display of affection; his surroundings blurring into a bright mess of storefront lights and TV screens.
“No! I will never let you go, ever again!” a protest sounded out, yet the rotations started to decrease in speed until Apollo was back on solid ground. It took him a while to regain his footing, but after doing so, he turned to gaze into the sparkling cobalt eyes of the perpetrator of this enthusiastic act—Athena Cykes.
“Hey there, tiger… Fancy seeing you here! Small world, huh?” the red-clad lawyer feigned nonchalance in his voice as he lowered his hands to grasp her forearms.
Another round of chimes rang out, “You come ‘round here often, handsome?”
”Oh, I’m just here to pick up something—I never expected to be picked up instead!” Apollo’s mouth turned to a tired smile as he looked around the redhead. “Is no one else with you? Where’s Mr Wright and Trucy?”
“In the middle of an intense case! That’s what you get for calling us at the last second!”
“What I get is you? I’ll try to call at the last minute more often!”
Another set of chimes. “Let’s go, silly, we have a trial to watch—they’ll also want to meet you after it ends!” Athena said as she picked up Apollo’s case with ease and started to lead him to her car.
“So, welcome back to Los Angeles—heat central, California! I hope you have plenty of water on hand, it’s been hell these past few weeks! I bet Khura’in was nice and pleasant around this time,” the yellow-clad attorney waved an exaggerated flourish of her hands around the parking lot after placing his luggage in the trunk and closing it up.
“It was, yeah, I enjoyed myself plenty…” Apollo said as he sat down in the passenger’s seat.
He saw it. Right there. Almost imperceptible, but there it was—a sharp inhale between her teeth and a furrowing of her brow. Anyone else would miss it, save for Apollo and his enhanced senses. It passed almost instantly, as Athena resumed her cheery demeanour like nothing happened.
“Good to hear! Meanwhile, I…”
The conversation of their recent accomplishments carried on as her bright yellow car rolled down the streets of LA towards their prestigious judicial goal—the courthouse. Midway through their chat, Apollo realised how much he had misled those awaiting him in this country about his situation.
They knew little of his troubles. He kept assuring them he was fine. Mr Wright’s magatama didn’t work when not talking face-to-face, and Athena seemingly couldn’t quite parse the voice of his heart over low quality transmissions, unless it was an overwhelmingly strong emotion causing it. He saw it as a blessing in disguise. His worries shouldn’t have been theirs as well.
Finally, they arrived at their esteemed destination. After parking at the quiet lot next to the building, they both left the automobile. However, Athena nimbly slid across the hood of the car on her rear and unexpectedly took the other attorney’s hand, stopping him in his tracks.
“Huh, Athena, what’s …?”
“Apollo… did something happen in Khura’in? Every time you mention it, I hear a little bit of discord in your heart, seemingly caused by sadness,” the lawyer said as she pulled her colleague slightly closer.
“Athena, I’m fi-” Apollo was set to continue his charade, before falling silent upon noticing that her bright, sapphire eyes had become creased with genuine worry and her soft lips had been drawn into a frown. A bright violet light illuminated them both, providing the perfect mood lighting for the sorrow emanating from his own heart.
He really should have known better by now.
Time and time again, secrecy had been the catalyst behind the worst incidents in his life. The last time, Dhurke’s secrecy had hurt him during that important trial in Khura’in. And before that, his own secrecy had hurt the woman standing in front of him right now. And Nahyuta upon their reunion… And Mr Wright during his first case… His mother…
He should start to know better.
And besides, it’s not like he can hide much from her special talent now. Her persistence shouldn’t be underestimated…
A heavy exhale. “Actually, yes, there is something I’d like to tell you…” the young lawyer leaned against the hood of the car with his head downcast as he began to relay the actual recount of his exploits in the far-away land. Athena gently wrapped one of her arms around his shoulders as she listened in.
All tales of Apollo’s concerns and doubts flowed freely, previously compressed in a vice grip inside his chest. For every shared word, the load seemed to lighten—a modicum each time. After he finished, he finally felt like he gathered enough courage to lift his face from his hands and gaze upon Athena once again. The sight made his heart squeeze yet again—her eyes were red and mired with tears, her frown prominent and her light sniffles echoed in the parking lot. Once again her heightened empathy had proven itself to be a curse as well, mirroring Apollo’s own sorrow all too easy. She pulled him into a full, warm hug.
“Oh, Apollo… Ema mentioned that you had been under some major stress, but I couldn’t imagine… We’re here for you—me, Trucy, Mr Wright… Please! You can’t keep doing this!” the soft words spoken into his shoulder, bit by bit, turned to desperation.
“I… I know. I’m sorry. I… just don’t want to be a burden…” the hug was returned, reluctance gradually becoming stability.
“Never, Apollo. Never!” Athena pulled back and wiped her brilliant blue eyes. “Listen to me. I’ll set you up for a therapy session later. We’ll get that imposter syndrome out of you yet, buster!”
“Of course… This helped already. I do feel better, believe me. Thanks, Athena…”
The yellow-clad attorney flushed, heat rising to her cheeks in an instant. Widget exchanged its dour purple hue for a green one. “O- Oh. You’re welcome! Now come, let’s get to that court! The boss’ trial should still be on.” she flashed a peace sign as she jumped to her feet, full of enthusiasm once again.
“Lead the way, tiger!” Apollo followed suit.
As they were walking up to the white marble stairs of the entrance, the pep in Apollo’s step had returned, but for a different reason. His gait could be light as the weight of his thoughts no longer pressed on him so severely. It would take some effort, but with Athena’s help, he was sure he would brave it.
“So, all those praises about Khura’in hospitality weren’t true?” the redhead tried to strike up a casual conversation.
“Well, not all of them, but I might have embellished a few facts…” Apollo nervously scratched the top of his head.
Athena picked up the pace and spun around to face him as she started to walk up the stairs backwards. “So you actually weren’t… how did you put it? “Woken up every morning by your group of fans singing you praises?””
“Yeah, that might have been one of the facts… Careful! Don’t fall!”
His warning was ignored. “Great! I was so worried that regular alarm clocks won’t cut it anymore. I had started to think of new ways for solving that!”
Apollo gazed at her with a weary expression. “New ways to wake me up? Really?” This girl really was something else.
“Yup! I got some great ideas!” Athena cheerfully announced.
“Let’s hear them then, tiger…”
As she reached the top step, Athena leaned in and quickly pecked Apollo on the lips. “MWAH! Here’s my best one! How was that?” Another victory sign flashed.
The attorney was stunned. His brain quickly restarted, but couldn’t keep up with the immense amount of thoughts processed in his head. It got stuck in the first gear. CPU too weak. Not enough horsepower. Voltage too low. It could only produce unsaid words of the same shade one at the time.
“Athena! Absolute! Audacity! … Aggressive! Ambitious! Awestruck! ... Affable! Astonished! Auspicious! Adorable! August! Angelic!”
As abundantly as Athena’s action amazed, Apollo’s audial actuator was averse to actually accentuating his affection.
“A- a- a- a- a-” was all the poor man’s mouth could relay of the verbal storm set off in his cerebrum. The sheer shock of it all caused the lawyer to sway off-balance.
“Apollo, careful, don’t fall!” Athena cried out in genuine worry, grabbed his hand and yanked him up the last step, crashing the lawyer right into her embrace; her arms wrapping around to grasp him diagonally over his back.
Finally, it seemed his thoughts caught up to reality, as he pulled back to see her face to face, shook his head and ended his stuttering streak, “I- I think that would have woken me up good!”
“I knew you’d love it!” Athena beamed.
A moment later, the close, intimate position the girl had put him in registered in his mind and he felt his own cheeks heat up. It seemed wise to gently push himself away, but, at the last moment, the man thought better of it. Athena’s boldness was infectious. Why not display a little audacity himself?
A quick gulp in his throat before sticking his courage to the sticking place.
He wrapped one hand around her shoulder—his palm resting on the back of her neck—and the other around her waist. He moved back in to whisper in her ear.
“Of course I love it, I would do the same. What better way to show that I'm…” he breathed in a low, husky voice with amorous intensity.
A slight turn. He pulled her mid-riff in towards him while letting her upper body fall to his left side. He now gently held up her figure, which laid arched on his arms, her features in a slight angle facing towards the sky. He leaned in over her, bringing them face to face again; his mouth mere centimetres above her own, the heart in his chest beating so close to her own.
“…still loving you?♫”
Seems that Apollo had successfully turned the tables. A gasp escaped her lips, the deep blue eyes widened in sheer shock and her supporting leg stretched to balance on her tippy toe.
“Ah!” For a moment she stood there—breathless, completely stunned, her hands hovering in the air.
Then the moment of realization—one more chime of that adorable giggle, and a wide smile graced her face.
“I know that one now! You- you- you… adorable... cute… dork! C’mere!”
She wrapped her hands around him and leaned in.
Their lips connected again, this time with languid earnestness—gentle, but steady and comforting. Their embrace, slightly awkward and cheesy, yet so warm and ardent. Their heartbeats, so close to each other in rhythm, conducted between them by sheer proximity. A touching display of vulnerable affection between two lovers.
It won't be easy. It probably will take more than just a couple therapy sessions for Apollo to sort his mind out. But right now, for the first time in a long while, Apollo felt like his motto was not an empty, vapid statement—not a battle cry turned into an unhealthy coping mechanism or a means to deceive.
Everything will turn out fine, in time.