Chapter Text
What Apollo remembered most about the first time he had seen Klavier Gavin was the heat. Hours had been spent in that large concert hall, the stage lights burning down onto the performers which then radiated to the rest of the room, bolstering the anxiety, the nerves, the sweat .
Apollo had been crammed next to Ema’s side when the points had been announced, too many school children sat in the auditorium seats for any of them to have a comfortable amount of space. No one had cared though, too preoccupied with the dread and anticipation of finding out their placement. Ema had not even blinked as Apollo grabbed onto her hand with a crushing grip.
He didn’t let go, not even when it was announced that Gatewater High had placed fourth, just shy of moving on to the next stage of the competition. Through a misty filter, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead, it was then that Apollo had seen him. That stupid, blonde fop jumped up from his seat with a triumphant yell as his school - Themis Academy - took the first place spot. Apollo remembered the way the lights had reflected off his (then short) golden locks, the boy yanking his ridiculous sunglasses off his face as he embraced his classmates. Seriously, Apollo had thought, who wears sunglasses indoors? And how are you trying to be cool when you’re a part of high school concert band?
It also hadn’t escaped his notice that the irritating boy from Themis Academy shared a striking resemblance to the school’s band instructor. A tall, serious looking man wearing thin wire framed glasses, looking completely unamused compared to his raucous students. It was then that the pieces had clicked into place for Apollo. He had known of Kristoph Gavin beforehand. He might be a niche celebrity, but he had been the talk of the town when it had been discovered that a world-class violinist had suddenly picked up a teaching job, even if it was at a private academy for the elite. But now Apollo could see why - to aid the career of his younger brother: an upstart (though talented) violinist in his first year of high school. The nepotism of it all made Apollo want to scream.
“I need some air,” Apollo had mumbled to Ema, bustling his way out of the concert hall and collapsing on a patch of grass out the back of the building.
Breathing heavily, Apollo rubbed furiously at his eyes to get rid of any unwanted tears. It was stupid to cry, he knew deep down that Gatewater had not played as well as the other schools, and that was all there was to it. But there was something about this competition that had buried its way deep into Apollo’s mind. He felt the injustice of it, especially for the third-years who had been working so hard to make it this far, just for the opportunity to be snatched away from them just because Themis could afford to bring in a famous violinist to coach their team to victory. Meanwhile Gatewater’s band instructor, Mr Wright, was not what one might call an apt musician. He could blunder his way through conducting and play a half decent piano sonata, but he was nothing compared to Kristoph Gavin.
Apollo had immediately felt bad for thinking this. Mr Wright had tried his best, after all, and it felt cruel to pick on his half sister’s father, especially when the man had shown him such kindness after Apollo had drifted awkwardly into their lives.
As Apollo was mashing his balled up fists against his eyes, he heard the sound of a heavy door opening, and then footsteps taking a couple of steps in his direction and then halting.
“Why the long face, der Schӧnling?” A heavily accented voice asked.
Apollo whipped around, dropping his fists against the grass. His face was burning red, from both his upset and humiliation at being caught in such a state.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Apollo replied through gritted teeth, praying that his eyes weren’t as watery as they felt.
“The taste of defeat is bitter, ja? There’s nothing wrong with a few tears,” The fop was grinning, his hands placed on his slender hips as he looked down on Apollo from a few paces away.
“Like you would know anything about that,” Apollo grumbled.
The younger Gavin (Apollo had not yet known his name) had looked confused for a moment, before striding over to Apollo and flopping down on the grass next to him. “Everyone has experienced some sort of loss in life. I was passed over for every single solo in middle school, and I cried over that every time.”
He spoke with an overfamiliarity that Apollo was not used to, making him tense up as the blonde rambled on with his stupid story.
“‘Klavier’, they used to say, ‘You have a natural talent, but you only play for yourself.’” The younger Gavin - Klavier - continued, “I didn’t understand what was so wrong with showing off a bit, you know? I always felt like such an indignity was done to me - I was obviously the most talented - although perhaps my reaction was a bit much. I have to admit I do have a flair for the dramatics. Life is more fun with a bit of melodrama, don’t you agree?”
Apollo stared at him agape. He had never met someone like this, so confident and arrogant right from the start. That was rich people for you, he supposed. Klavier Gavin expected everything to be handed to him on a silver platter.
As he continued to recount his woe from his middle school days, Klavier Gavin casually pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, tapping one out of the pack and placing the thin stick between his lips.
“You want one?” He asked in his thick accent, offering the pack to Apollo. The accent had to be fake, right? Objectively, the Gavins were from Germany, but the elder Gavin spoke with an English accent, not German. Maybe Klavier felt that the accent added to his rockstar mystique. Apollo just thought that it made him sound ridiculously silly.
“No, thank you,” Apollo muttered, declining the cigaratte as Klavier lit his up, taking a drag with ease. He had never met a fifteen year old who smoked before.
“Don’t tell mein Bruder, bitte. He would kill me if he ever found out,” Klavier grinned mischeviously.
As if , Apollo thought. He’d probably have a panic attack if Kristoph Gavin so much as looked at him.
“Anyway, the point of my story was that your school played well today,” Gavin said, exhaling smoke that curled prettily out of his parted lips. “But you lack cohesion. To an untrained ear, you sound wunderbar, but the judges can hear that you’re playing as individuals, not an orchestra.”
Irritatingly, what Gavin was saying was true.
“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Apollo grumbled, having come out here for some peace and quiet, not coaching from an irritating rich boy.
“Maybe not,” Gavin shrugged, tilted his head up to bask in the late afternoon sun, “But I would like to compete with you in earnest next year, you’ve got strong potential.”
Klavier winked of all things to do, before finishing off his cigarette and standing up, dusting off his trousers before beginning to walk back inside. He made it most of the way to the door before turning quick on his heel and running back over to Apollo.
“Ach, wait! I didn’t catch your name!”
His flusteredness made Apollo’s lips quirk up into a smirk. “I didn’t throw it,” Apollo couldn’t help but taunt, “Why do you want to know?”
“I need to know my rival’s name, ja? How else is our longstanding battle for greatness going to begin?”
Apollo’s eyebrow quirked up. Rival? This guy was a nutjob. And yet…
“It’s Apollo. Apollo Justice.”
“ Apollo Justice ,” Klavier repeated the name as if he were savouring the feel of it in his mouth. “I like it! It’s a good name, a strong name.” He declared. “Until the next piece, Apollo Justice!” He called, running back inside before his brother could come looking for him.
“You spoke to Klavier Gavin?” Ema had whispered on the bus ride home as Mr Wright gave them all his classic pep talk on how they had all tried their best, and that there was always next year. For the third years, that hadn’t given them much comfort. “What was he like?”
“He was a freak,” Apollo muttered back. “Apparently he’s decided that I’m his rival now, whatever the hell that means.”
Ema snorted. “That’s Themis for you,”
“No, this is definitely just a him thing,” Apollo murmured, wincing slightly as he heard one of his seniors stifle a sob behind him. “Whatever. I’m probably never going to talk to Klavier Gavin again.”
Apollo did, in fact, speak to Klavier Gavin again.
At every competition, at every festival, Apollo would only have to blink and that ridiculous blonde fop would be running towards him.
“Herr Justice! It is good to see you again!”
“Justice, your playing was wunderschon today!”
“Apollo, this is my bandmate Daryan! I hope you can get on well!” (Daryan had just scowled at Apollo and walked away. They did not, in fact, get on well.)
As their first year ended, and second year began to fly by, Gatewater improved slowly but surely with every piece. Soon enough they were beginning to catch up to Themis, but were still not skilled enough to overtake them.
At the end of their second year regionals, Themis had taken first place, with Gatewater as their very close runner up.
Throughout it all, Klavier Gavin had been there. Apollo was still pretty sure this was his weird way of making fun of him, and yet it was a strange comfort when Klavier found him in that same patch of grass a year later and had silently taken a seat next to him. They shared a cigarette in pleasant silence, and then Apollo had given his rival a firm handshake.
“Next year. We’ll beat you next year.”
Klavier’s eyes had sparkled, “We’ll have to practice even harder then.”
It was now the first day of Apollo’s third and final year at Gatewater, and the early dawn light was streaming through the curtains of his new bedroom. He still hadn’t gotten used to having his own room, a luxury that he hadn’t had living in the various foster and care homes he had been bounced around throughout his life.
At the end of the previous school year, Mr Wright and his elusive husband had offered to take Apollo in, at least until he finished high school and he was an adult; then no one would have any legal obligation to look after him ever again.
The summer had been a strange experience, moving in with the Wright family, and Apollo still hadn’t gotten over that feeling of excruciating awkwardness. Trucy was thrilled to have him there, and Mr Wright and his husband had been more than kind to him, but Apollo just couldn’t seem to gel with the family dynamic, constantly feeling like an outsider amongst these people. Not that it mattered too much, Apollo supposed. It would only be one year of living with them, and then they’d all be free of the awkward, gloomy boy who had begun living under their roof.
What had surprised Apollo the most had been the identity of Mr Wright’s constantly travelling husband: the Von Karma prodigy - Miles Edgeworth. How Trucy had never revealed this to Apollo was beyond him, considering both of their interests in music. And yet when Apollo had moved in on a sunny July morning, the air was knocked clean from his lungs when he saw a musical genius smiling awkwardly at him and offering to help with his bags.
Mr Edgeworth’s retirement was part of the reason Mr Wright had offered to take Apollo in. Mr Wright and Trucy had moved out of their modest flat, and the family had now moved into a cozy home in the nicer part of town.
It had also been revealed that not only was Mr Edgeworth Apollo’s new foster carer, he had also taken up a teaching position at the school. He would be leading the Gatewater High concert band.
Apollo checked the time on his phone: 5:45AM. Creeping out of bed as to not wake anyone else in the house up, Apollo carefully began to dress himself and get ready for his day. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he tiptoed downstairs to grab some breakfast before he headed out - and inhaled sharply with surprise as he saw Mr Edgeworth already sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and the morning paper.
“Good morning, Apollo,” Mr Edgeworth said as he caught sight of Apollo hovering awkwardly in the doorway.
“G-good morning Mr Edgeworth,” Apollo murmured back. Mr Edgeworth had told him multiple times that it was alright to just call him ‘Miles’, but Apollo just couldn’t muster that kind of courage.
“You’re up early,” The man commented as Apollo cautiously edged his way into the kitchen to grab a slice of toast.
“I have a shift at the convenience store before school,” Apollo told him. He had been working there since he had started high school, keenly aware of the ticking clock counting down to his 18th birthday, when no one would have any legal obligation to look after him physically, or financially. Apollo needed to make sure that he had enough money to look after himself when the time inevitably came.
Mr Edgeworth nodded, taking a sip of his tea. “I’m giving Trucy a lift to school in the car since it’ll be both of our first days there. I could pick you up on the way, if you’d like?”
Apollo shifted uncomfortably as he waited for the bread he’d put in the toaster to pop up. Mr Edgeworth had a very nice car, and Apollo had not yet been comfortable enough to take up any offer for a ride in it. He was barely comfortable enough riding with Mr Wright in his blue, hunk-of-junk car.
“No thank you, Mr Edgeworth. I’m riding my bike to work so…” He trailed off awkwardly. “But I’ll still look after Trucy today!” He added hastily, “I’ll even meet her at the school gates and everything.”
Mr Edgeworth smiled kindly. “I had no doubt about that, Apollo. The offer still stands, however. If you ever need a lift anywhere, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Apollo absolutely would hesitate to ask, but instead he said: “Sure thing Mr Edgeworth.”
The toast popped, and Apollo quickly spread on a layer of butter, taking a bite out of the toast as he deftly made his way towards the front door.
“Apollo?”
He turned around swiftly at the sound of Mr Edgeworth’s voice calling after him.
“I was wondering if I might ask you a question about the band, as you’re the club president now?”
Apollo swallowed the bite of toast that he had been chewing on hastily, the burnt crumbs scratching his throat on the way down. “Sure thing.”
“You must forgive me, but I overheard you talking to the young Ms Skye when she came to visit the other week. You said your goal this year was to beat Themis Academy and make it to nationals, is that correct?”
Apollo hesitated for a moment. “That’s my goal, sure. But I’m not sure that’s the goal of the whole band.”
Mr Edgeworth made a noise of acknowledgment. “And, as club president, which goal is more important to you?”
“The goal of the band,” Apollo replied without missing a beat. He had his own wants and needs, of course, but that was not the role of the president. He was there to make sure everyone was seen and heard - there was no point in chasing a goal that made everyone miserable.
Mr Edgeworth smiled. “A very wise answer. And important for me to know when I meet everyone today. I am looking forward to it.”
Apollo nodded. “I think it’s going to be a good year for us, sir.”
“There is no need for you to be so formal with me, Apollo.” Mr Edgeworth said warmly, “Although perhaps at school it will be best to keep up formalities. I’m sure you’re aware that there won’t be any special treatment for you or your sister behind those gates.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less, Mr Edgeworth.”
Trucy was a whirlwind of excitement at the school gates, dashing from Mr Edgeworth’s red sportscar and tackling Apollo into a hug.
“Polly!” She yelled, her blue magicians cape whirling out behind her. Yes, his sister was an eccentric, and there was nothing in the school’s dress code against magicians capes. At least, not yet.
“Chill out, Truce, it’s been less than twelve hours since you last saw me,” He laughed, but there was not even a hint of annoyance on his face. Apollo loved his sister more than anything else in the world, the one family member he had ever had.
“Geez, you could have at least had breakfast with us this morning. Daddy made pancakes.” She nodded back to the sports car, where Phoenix Wright was stepping out of the passenger seat, dressed in the same blue suit he wore every day.
“I’m sorry I missed it,” Apollo said, and he found that he genuinely did mean that. “Come on, I’ll walk you to homeroom.”
He linked arms with his little sister, allowing her to drag him along even though he was the one that knew the way.
“I hope I’m in the same class as Pearl this year,” His little sister said. It was a well known fact that Trucy had a little crush on her best friend, although she would deny it until her face turned as blue as her cape. Allegedly, Pearl had been the most popular girl in their middle school, and Trucy had been anxious about drifting apart if that popularity continued into high school. Somehow Apollo doubted that Pearl’s Spirit-Medium-Chic look would translate into high school coolness, but stranger things had happened, he supposed.
“You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if your dad managed to pull some strings with administration on that one,” Apollo commented.
“Really? You think?” Trucy asked, skipping a little in her step as she yanked Apollo along.
“Trucy! You’re hurting my arm!” Apollo complained, giving his sister a playful shove to her side.
"Apollo Justice! Is that any way to treat prospective members of your club?”
Apollo jumped at the harsh tone to the voice, but then immediately relaxed when he saw who was speaking.
“Fuck off, Ema,” He grinned.
“Polly!” Trucy gasped, “That’s a dollar for the swear jar.”
“Yeah, Polly ,” Ema teased, and Apollo scowled at the two girls teasing him. “Sick outfit Trucy,” Ema said genuinely, turning to Trucy, “I’ve never thought of a magicians outfit for the first day of school, but you make it work,”
“Thanks Ema,” Trucy smiled bashfully, a little blush forming on her cheeks.
“I am afraid that I’m going to have to steal your brother from you though. Special band committee meeting before classes start this morning.” She turned to Apollo, “Have you seen Clay? I figured he should join us, as treasurer and all.”
“Not yet,” Apollo shook his head, “Text him to meet us in the music room?”
“On it,” Ema nodded, pulling out her phone.
“Okay, this is your homeroom Trucy. You sure you’re going to be okay?” He asked, going full-on protective older brother mode as he led her to the door.
“I’ll be fine, Polly,” Trucy insisted.
“I’ll come and meet you for lunch, yeah?”
“Well… maybe I might want to hang out with some of my new friends at lunch?” Trucy posited, looking sheepish as she tried to let her brother down gently.
“Yeah, that’s fine! Totally fine! No lunch!” Apollo said, speaking slightly too loud.
Trucy wrapped her arms around Apollo’s middle and gave him a hug. “I’ll see you after school for band practice,” She promised, “I’m gonna tell everyone in my class about it. And I promise I’ll text you if I’m in any trouble. Or daddy. Or papa.”
“Okay, okay, I get it - you’ll be fine,” Apollo huffed.
“Clay’s en route, you wanna head?” Ema asked.
“Sure,” Apollo replied.
“Have a good first day Trucy!” Ema waved.
“Bye Ema! Bye Polly!”
“I almost forget that you’re an annoying asshole when I see you with your sister,” Ema teased under her breath as they walked away.
“Fuck off,” Apollo shot back.
“Is that another dollar for the swear jar?” Ema grinned.
“We’re not friends anymore, Ema Skye, I’ve decided,” Apollo said dryly.
“Oh no, whatever will I do without your thrilling company,” She deadpanned.
They loved each other, really.
The door to the music room was already slightly ajar when they got there, and Apollo figured that Clay had probably beat them there.
“Clay?” Apollo called as he and Ema stepped into the room, sliding the door shut behind them.
There was a shuffling in the corner of the room, and to Apollo’s horror, a blonde head of hair appeared from behind the instrument cupboard.
“Ah, Hallo.”
Standing in the middle of the Gatewater music room, hand half-raised in a sheepish greeting, was Klavier-fucking-Gavin.