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Simon Blackquill was sleeping restlessly in his prison cell, having finally fallen asleep only minutes before when someone banged their baton against the bars. He winced, his mind jolting awake from his dreamless sleep.
“Blackquill, theres a call for you.” The guard said. Blackquill didn’t bother opening his eyes.
“Tell Aura that I’ve not changed my mind,” He grumbled. She had been adamant on reexamining his case, but calling this early was a new form of harassment, even for her.
“It’s the detective,” The guard informed. Blackquill groaned a little, opening his eyes to look at the impatient guard from his place in bed. His baton was resting on the bars, ready to slam into them again if he didn’t get up. Blackquill sighed, getting up and out of his bed and grabbing his coat as he approached the bars. The guard unlocked the cell and Blackquill followed behind him to the phone, the shackles around his wrists seeming to weigh down his spirit as he kept his eyes trained to the guards feet. The guard stopped, having reached the phone and stepped aside so Blackquill could pick it up. He did as was expected.
“What is it?” He demanded. He heard the peppy voice of Detective Bobby Fulbright on the other end.
“Good morning sir!” He shouted through the phone, causing Blackquill to wince. He pulled the phone a little away from his ear to prevent further headaches. “Waking up bright and early to serve justice I see!” Blackquill scowled.
“What is the case, Fool Bright?” He asked trying to get to the point of the call. He could hear Fulbright’s boisterous laughter echo throughout the room he was in.
“Case? There’s no case this early in the morning!” Blackquill rubbed his face with his free hand, exhaustion setting in as he realized what this was. He continued. “The first part of rejoining society is rising early to tackle the day! Justice never sleeps!”
“My execution is in a few months,” Blackquill stated, smirking as he thought of what he was about to say. “I’ll be taking an eternal sleep very soon,” He chuckled at his own definition of a joke. Fulbrights voice lowered.
“Sir… Jokes like that won’t get you reformed.” He said almost disappointed. Blackquill could almost see his lowered gaze as he pressed his fingers together uselessly. His voice quickly perked back up. “Aha! But I know what will!” He heard shuffling on the other end of the line.
“Don’t hold your tongue on my account,” Blackquill said, leaning onto the nearby wall. The shuffling came to an abrupt end and Fulbright said
“I’ll be right there sir! In justice we trust!” Blackquill narrowed his eyes, getting the sense he was going to hang up.
“Fool bright if you come here I’ll-” He cut himself off, hearing the click of Fulbright hanging up. He tightened his grip on the phone, closing his eyes to prepare himself for what was bound to happen. Fulbright was going to charge in for some inane reason he had yet to predict. He could already see the Detective bursting through the door, yelling at the guards to let him through. He nearly smiled, he could see his eyebrows furrowed and his teeth gritted in an almost childish form of anger as he shouted his catchphrase in an attempt to persuade the guards. He chuckled, although he wasn’t completely sure why when he was thinking of Fulbright. He opened his eyes, setting his phone back on the receiver as he caught a glimpse of the guard who was staring at him and tapping his toe loudly. Blackquill frowned, so much for a good mood.
“Are you done?” The guard asked bitterly. Blackquill considered warning the guard about Fulbright, but decided against it. He might be able to watch the scene off the security cameras and telling him would deprive him of later entertainment.
“I’m finished,” He said, and the guard lead him back to his cell without another word.
***
Not even fifteen minutes after Fulbright had hung up, Blackquill could hear the distant shouts of “justice”. He laid on his bed, his hands behind his head, trying to decipher words from the madness.
“...he’s not just some criminal! He has a law degree!” He could just barely make out the words, it sounded like Fulbright’s voice. “In justice we trust!” He shouted almost insistingly. Blackquill laughed, the image in his head exactly as he had imagined it. If he got his hands on this footage, he’d be sure to watch it more than once. “Blackquills no villain!” He yelled, but his voice lowered a little afterwards and Blackquill had to strain his ears to hear through the silence. “He’s a victim! He may not show it, but he needs to get better!” There was a short pause, as Fulbright did some over the top gesture no doubt. “It’s my job as justice’s disciple to aide him!” His voice rose again and Blackquill waited for his next shout but all that followed was silence. He furrowed his brow, the line about needing to get better replaying a few times in his head. Fulbright meant well and that was admirable, and yet he was attempting to sharpen a blade he knew nothing about. Such an act would get him cut without fail. Even if it was only an accident. He heard Fulbrights gentle footsteps approach his cell. He kept his eyes on the ceiling, pretending as though he didn’t know he was there.
“Sir,” Fulbright called using his indoor voice. Blackquill saw him looking him over out of the corner of his eye. Blackquill glanced down at him. His face was oddly stoic, he wasn’t used to seeing it so expressionless, but as soon as he had the time to think it was strange Fulbright grinned as wide as he could. “Justice is here!” He didn’t shout, he only raised his voice a little. He raised his two fingers, holding them to his temple as he smiled. The guard rolled his eyes and opened the cell door. Fulbright lowered his arm, entering the cell with his fists on his hips. Blackquill looked between Fulbright and the guard.
“What’s going on here?” He asked. Fulbright almost never entered his cell, partially because no one ever allowed him to, but that wasn’t to say he had asked before to begin with. He usually spoke to him through bars or over the phone if they weren’t working a case. He looked at Fulbright suspiciously, who gave him a light smile in return.
“The next step in your rehabilitation!” He said loudly. The guard closed the cell door behind him.
“Keep it down in here,” He said as he tapped the wall next to the cell. Fulbright looked back at him, smiling.
“Will do!” The guard rolled his eyes again and left the two of them alone. Blackquill sighed, he knew what this was; what it had to be. Fulbright turned back to Blackquill. “I’m bunking with you tonight!” He announced moments after he had promised to keep it down. Blackquill sat up, exactly what he expected.
“Fool bright,” He addressed. Fulbrights eyebrows raised attentively and his smile faded a little. “Spending a night in the clink with me won’t help anyone,” He glared at him. “You should be at home with your family.” Fulbright adjusted his aviators with his thumb and index finger, pushing on the glass so the moonlight reflected off of it and made his eyes disappear amongst the mixing of colors.
“They can handle a night without me,” He said definitively. He let his arms fall to his side, his eyes becoming visible again. He was nearly frowning in that instance. Blackquill noted the expression for later questioning. Fulbright smiled. "It's my duty to prepare you for society after all!" Fulbright wasted no time taking his seat next to Blackquill on the bed, plopping next to him as he almost fell onto the bed. Blackquill scooted to the side to make room for the detective, his eyes glued to the ground as he thought about how this night could possibly unfold. They would be sleeping in the same room, but Fulbright was an idiot. He probably hadn’t even thought of the sleeping arrangements. He scowled a little, attempting to shake off the prospects of intimacy in vain.
"Where were you planning on sleeping, Fool Bright?" He asked. There was an extended pause between the two of them, Fulbright’s answer presumably getting caught in his throat. Blackquill glanced at him, spotting the sweat dripping from his brow.
“Well...uh…” Fulbright’s eyes were darting about the room, as if the answer was in front of him waiting to be utilized. Blackquill watched him scramble, just as he thought he would. He smirked at the sight. Fulbright suddenly perked up. “The floor! I’ll sleep on the floor!” He grinned and saluted. “In justice we trust!” Blackquill raised his head, sitting up straight.
“You’ll be sleeping on the floor?” He smiled. “Nonsense, a guest of mine shouldn’t sleep so uncomfortably.” He was teasing of course, intending to have one of the guards fetch him a blanket so he could sleep on the floor. Fulbright stared at him, searching his eyes for a moment as his smile faded. Quickly, emotion flooded back into his face, a nervous smile appearing as he raised his hands up.
“S-sir! I really don’t-”
“I’m teasing Fool bright,” Blackquill clarified before Fulbright could say anything he’d likely regret. He dropped his arms, relief washing over him.
“R-right sir,” His cheeks were red from embarrassment most likely. Blackquill’s smirk faded, guilt suddenly overtaking him. He slouched over, placing his elbows on his knees as he searched for a subject.
“How did you plan on rehabilitating me?” He inquired, attempting to break the silence. Fulbright’s face lit up, his hand quickly reaching into his coat pocket. Blackquill resisted the urge to smile at the display. He triumphantly pulled out two decks of cards, one labelled with a J and the other appearing to be a regular playing card deck. He held the both of them up for Blackquill to see.
“Here!” He announced. Blackquill stared between the two decks, one was obviously for playing, but the other looked to be specially made. Realization dawned on him and he glared at the mysterious deck.
“Fool bright, don’t tell me you actually…” He trailed off, hoping he was wrong and Fulbright would fill in with something else. He saluted proudly.
“That’s right! Flash cards for your benefit!” He dropped the playing cards next to him, pulling a card out of his labelled deck and forcing it into his face. Blackquill jumped back, leaning away from him on the bed as he tried to decipher the picture on the card. “Innocent or guilty?!” He yelled.
“W-what?” Blackquill stammered, having barely glanced at the card. He looked closer. It appeared to be a man looming over a corpse, a bloody knife in their hand and a fearful expression on their face. Fulbright shoved the picture closer to him, a passionate anger visible on his face.
“The man! Is he innocent or guilty?!” He repeated. Blackquill frowned defensively.
“H-how am I supposed to tell from the picture alone?!” He yelled back. Fulbright laughed triumphantly. Blackquill glared back at him. Was this some sort of joke? “Detective, explain yourself!” He demanded. Fulbright reeled from his laughter, morphing it into a sort of giggle as he controlled himself.
“Your pure confusion, it’s almost cute when you don’t understand,” He commented, pulling the flash card closer to him. Blackquill stared at him in disbelief, unsure of his own understanding of the situation. Did detective Fool bright just call him...cute? His face flushed red and his eyes quickly scanned the card in his hand.
“Innocent!” He yelled, calming down a little. He sat up on the other side of the bed, dropping his feet over either side of the bed. “T-the victim has no blood pooling beneath them.” He lowered his voice, regaining his composure. “The fearful expression on the defendants face implies they just arrived on the scene,” He shook his head. “Why they decided to pick up the knife however, is a mystery.” He added. Fulbright watched the display attentively, smiling throughout and nodding as he finished.
“Correct!” He put the card back into the deck and pulled out another one at random. “Innocent or guilty?!” He shouted, shoving another flash card in Blackquills face. Blackquill examined the card. It was a child covered in blood sobbing in the corner of a large room, a dead woman laying on a table before her. Blackquill hesitated, his eyes going over the details of the picture over and over. There was a knife in the girls hand. There was blood on the table. There was a robot toy in the corner. Blackquill frowned. It was close. Too close. He glanced up at Fulbright, almost glaring at him. But was it even possible that it was more than a coincidence? He pushed away the question. No, it wasn’t. Fulbright was an idiot, he couldn’t know. Fulbright pulled the card towards him.
“Sir...there won’t be time to hesitate in the court of law.” He said almost disappointingly. Blackquill huffed.
“Not every case can be solved at a glance, Fool bright.” He looked over the picture again, as if he was going to change his answer. “Guilty. She’s guilty.” Fulbright cocked his head to the side, waiting for an explanation. Blackquill provided. “She’s holding the murder weapon, shes covered in the victims blood and she’s curled up as if shes been there for longer than a few moments.” He explained. “Although it may have been accidental, she most certainly killed this woman.”
“...And tried to put her back together.” He thought to himself. Fulbright frowned deeply, his lips curling into disappointment.
“Wrong sir, she’s innocent.” He lowered the card into his lap.
“Innocent?!” Blackquill yelled. “Preposterous! Wheres the evidence?” Fulbright seemed taken aback by the statement.
“S-she’s a little girl sir!” He barely managed to get the words out. “She couldn’t have-
“Your feelings about the matter don’t change the facts of the situation!” He cut him off, his voice raising. He pointed at the picture, his shackles jingling as he did. “She is not only holding the murder weapon, but she’s in covered in blood. If it was not her, who exactly could’ve done it?” Fulbright hesitated, his eyes dropping to the floor searching for an answer.
“W-who did it isn’t the point, sir. The point is that she’s innocent.” He put the card back in the deck. Blackquill scoffed.
“Perhaps this is why you are the detective and I am the prosecutor.” He jabbed. He turned his head away from him. “Not every little girl is what they appear to be.” He sneered, his fists clenching at the memories Fulbright had brought up. Fulbright looked as though he had a retort, but held his tongue, instead letting the silence lie for a couple moments as he stared at the deck of flash cards in his hand.
“Prosecutor Blackquill?” He called, turning so that he was sitting with his legs crossed on the bed. Blackquill scoffed.
“I haven’t left Fool bright, you need not call my name.” Fulbright paused, slowly twirling the deck in his hand.
“Did you- did you really kill her?” He looked up at him, his eyes innocent and expression hopeful. Blackquill locked eyes with him, getting lost in his purity for a moment then clicked his tongue.
“You’re letting you emotions fool you Fool bright.” He folded his arms, his chains getting tangled in his shirt in the process. “Of course I killed her. I’m sitting here in this cell aren’t I?” He gestured around him to indicate the cell and maybe the prison as a whole. Fulbright watched him carefully, his eyes buzzing over the details of his face.
“Right sir.” His voice had a tint of sadness in it. He put on a smile for him, and Blackquill could see that. “Next card!” He pulled out another card dramatically, showing it to Blackquill. “Innocent or Gui-”
“Are you not growing tired of this game?” Blackquill interrupted, barely glancing at the card. Fulbright’s eyebrows perked up attentively. He lowered the card.
“You’re done? Never fear!” He saluted. “Justice incarnate himself is here to provide you with another path to lead you away from evil!” He dropped the flash cards, picking the playing cards up from the space between them on the bed. Blackquill watched the motion wordlessly, trying to decipher how exactly the detective believed this would help his rehabilitation. Fulbright emptied the cards into his hand. “The rules are simple!” He started to shuffle the cards, mixing them together like a professional. “We each get half the deck and put out a card one at a time, the highest card, wins the pot!”
“You’re spouting nonsense Fool Bright.” He unfolded his arms, taking the cards that Fulbright was dealing. He smirked. “Regardless, A true samurai can learn to wield even the mightiest of blades without instruction.” Fulbright chuckled, finishing dealing.
“Suit yourself sir. Just don’t look at your cards.” He said, picking up his half of the deck face down. Blackquill watched and did the same. Fulbright grabbed the top card with two fingers, bending just enough to hold it without it being seen by either of them. Quickly, he flipped the card onto the bed. It was a 9 of clubs. Blackquill chuckled. It was easier than he had made it sound. He flipped over his top card. A 7 of diamonds. Fulbright cheered, taking both of the cards in his own pile to the side of his knee. Blackquill was beginning to understand. The person with the high value card, regardless of the suit, won the round. He still wasn’t sure what the object of the game was, particularly for Fulbright, at least until Fulbright spoke up.
“Okay! This is where I ask you a question, and you have to be honest sir.” Blackquill scoffed, suddenly catching his motive.
“If this is about what we’ve just gone over-”
“N-no! Sir!” Fulbright interrupted, his hands flying up defensively. “This is about your rehabilitation remember? I have to ask you rehabilitation questions!” He insisted, his expression almost begging him to agree. Blackquill stared at him for a moment, trying to fight his urge to agree so easily. Finally, he clicked his tongue and darted his eyes to the far wall.
“You will not ask me about Dr. Cykes, Fool bright,” He glared at him suddenly, his eyes like daggers. “Lest you wish to be slain by the blade of impatience!” Fulbright jumped, closing his eyes and looking away in fear.
“Yes sir!” He shouted. He slowly lowered his arms, opening his eyes and looking back at Blackquill who was watching him impatiently. Fulbright’s eyes fell on the poorly set prison blanket, his lips pursing a little before he spoke. “Do you believe…” He trailed, his fingers curling into fists as he tried to keep his eyes glued to the blanket.
“This game has no point if you are not going to speak Fool Bright.” Blackquill didn’t raise his voice, more frustrated than angry despite his choice of words. Fulbright hesitated another half second, before exhaling quickly. His eyes shot up at Blackquill.
“Who do you consider to be innocent, sir?” He wasn’t yelling, but he seemed to gain a newfound sense of courage from Blackquills words. Blackquill scoffed. The connection this question had to rehabilitation was flimsy, and was clearly made only to satiate Fool Brights own curiosity.
“There are no innocent in this world, Fool Bright.” He insisted, gritting his teeth. “There are only those whose bloody sword has yet to be found, and the guilty.” He spoke definitively, but he was struggling to keep his eyes from drifting off Fulbright and his tone from wavering. Fulbright frowned, his lips beginning to curl downwards.
“B-but that can’t be true sir!” He yelled, leaning towards him. “There’s always innocent to protect!”
“Nonsense!” He looked away. “There are only variations of-”
“I’m sorry sir!” Fulbright interrupted him, surprising Blackquill enough to knock him out of his emotions. “But thats not true.” He lowered his voice, leaning back. He hung down his head, the moon reflecting off his aviators once more, obscuring his eyes to Blackquill. “There are always innocent to protect. Even if it seems everyone is to blame, even if the world has turned on its head.” He began to smile. “There will always be someone to protect. And they will always need justice!” He saluted, grinning like normal. “In justice we trust!”
Blackquill struggled to hold back his smile, there was a pure innocence in Fulbright’s speech, as if he was but a child spouting what his parents had told him. To maintain such a world view at such an age, either required great trauma, or great stupidity. Considering Fulbright, he was almost positive it was the latter. Blackquill clicked his tongue, wincing.
"You will only be disappointed with such ideas Fool Bright.” Blackquill made eye contact, spotting a soft smile on Fulbrights face as he lowered his arm. Blackquill raised his eyebrow. He was sure what he had just said would upset the detective in some manner but, he was just smiling at him. As if he saw something he couldn’t.
“Do not tell me you’re still reeling from that ridiculous speech.” He asked, folding his arms. Unbeknownst to Prosecutor Blackquill, there was the slightest of genuine smirks hiding on his own face that was catching Fulbrights eye. He shook his head.
“Its nothing sir.” He picked up his deck of cards, putting his fingers between the card on top again. “Ready?”
Blackquill took note of the moment, but said nothing more on the subject, mimicking the detective in how he held the cards.
“You will scarcely find a samurai unprepared to draw.”