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Kristoph was a big brother that Klavier admired when he was a kid, because of course he would: that was his brother, who was super cool and always diplomatically calm and friends with everyone. Kristoph always seemed to get by with the tiniest hint of a smile and a graceful air of importance. It was mesmerising to a young Klavier when his own attitude was louder and more excitable, eventually tapering off into something more alluring to the masses of fans he acquired when he released his first album. He even styled his hair in a similar fashion when the crazy days of rock stardom calmed down and he could focus a little more on his prosecutorial career.
No one could mix the two up though, not when one was very professional and distant at first and the other welcomed people in with a warm smile and a compliment. Paparazzi also liked to write about Klavier far more than they did about Kristoph – where Kristoph only showed up in the papers if he had a particularly high profile client, Klavier’s every move was recorded for everyone to hear about.
But they couldn’t catch everything.
Years later it would be whispered that Kristoph was a violent man and he’d deserved being locked away – rumours flew around that maybe Phoenix Wright was a victim of more than just losing his badge and reputation – and it was during the trial that finally brought Kristoph crashing down to Earth that Klavier realised some things. Things he didn’t want to believe at first, despite deep down knowing it was true. Even after the trial he wasn’t sure where to stand on the matter and it was Apollo that asked the question that unlocked the memories he’d lost to rose-tinted glasses.
“Why did you cover your ears like that?”
Apollo with his determination, and the bright gaze that pierced through Klavier’s very core, and that damn bracelet – the attorney had seen more than just disbelief in that expression; he’d seen resurfacing pain and betrayal. It was voiced innocently enough, just a question of genuine curiosity, but it caught Klavier off guard.
“Huh?”
Klavier winced internally, hearing Kristoph’s sharp disapproval in his head at how inelegant the response was.
“Your ears, are they ok?”
This was absurd, of course they were! He might have been a rockstar but he knew how to take care of his hearing so that he didn’t go deaf- and that’s when Klavier realised what had happened in the courtroom…
Ah. That’s why Apollo was asking. It had been a reflex he hadn’t had since he was a teenager.
“Ja, they’re fine, Herr Forehead.”
~~~
When Klavier was thirteen he started properly playing the guitar, his love for the instrument coming through almost immediately since he’d been plucking at it for the past couple of years anyway, but this guitar was his and not something from his school music room. Kristoph hadn’t been that pleased at first, but Klavier didn’t notice.
He also didn’t notice when the vague remarks about him turned sinister. Kristoph was never physically violent towards him, not in the way he could have been, because his words were the only weapon he ever needed against most people and Klavier was no exception. It started out small, just requests to turn the music down so that the neighbours weren’t disturbed, or that Kristoph had a headache and didn’t want to listen to rock music right then and it had been a long day for him; then it was comments on how Klavier acted around others, or the way he disrespected Kristoph by doing XYZ.
By fourteen Klavier was jumping at every sound he made in case his brother was nearby. His nerves followed him to school, his scores began to slip a little bit, and the concerned letter sent home was only followed up by a one-sided shouting match. Klavier found himself tucked into his wardrobe with his hands pressed over his ears more times than he’d like to admit. It almost became a daily occurrence for him to retreat to the safety of his bedroom and wait with bated breath for Kristoph to start shouting at him again.
It lessened later on, Kristoph ‘apologising’ for his actions and despite the word “sorry” never passing the man’s lips, Klavier was happy to just have his brother back. Happy that he was in Kristoph’s good graces again. When he graduated Themis with a prosecutor’s badge at seventeen, he looked to Kristoph for any hint of pride, but just received the same cold mask that everyone else got. Even releasing a music album with his band, The Gavinners, got nothing.
“I can do this, Kris,” he’d said one afternoon. Kristoph just sipped his tea quietly. “I can have a band and prosecute at the same time, it’s possible.”
“I never said it wasn’t,” Kristoph had replied, his icy blue stare chilling Klavier to the bone with the disapproval he found within. “I merely explained to you that it might be difficult. You would need my assistance and I have an office to run.”
“You…you want me to fail?”
The clink of the teacup hitting the saucer just a little heavier than normal had been deafening and made Klavier wince involuntarily.
“At what point have I ever said that? I’ve only ever wanted the best for you, Klavier, and I don’t think that splitting your attention between two very demanding careers is a very good idea. I can only help you so much, then it’s up to you.”
“I don’t need your help, Kris, and I don’t want it either!”
After that, Klavier didn’t like to remember. After that it had been a rare moment of violence that Klavier had locked away.
~~~
It was a case a few months after Kristoph had been sentenced for poisoning and forgery, and after Wright had reclaimed his reputation, that Klavier faced Apollo again. One of the witnesses reminded him of Kristoph in more ways than one: the dismissive approach to the evidence, talking over other people as if he knew better, and the fact that when Klavier had been preparing the man in the recess he’d been pushed aside as if he didn’t know how to do his own job. First an evasive defendant and now this. Underneath the suave persona he normally held, Klavier’s jaw clenched.
“I know all of this already, boy, you don’t need to tell me a second time,” the witness declared, steadfastly ignoring Klavier.
“It’s my job to prepare you for this trial and see what I’m working with.”
The witness raised an eyebrow and scoffed. Klavier felt his chest squeeze.
“What could you know that I don't already? I've been in this business far longer than you.”
Before Klavier could respond, the bailiff called them back into court and he grit his teeth. He just had to get through this part of the trial and he’d never have to see this man again. Across the courtroom, he noticed that Apollo seemed uneasy as well, and Klavier was less talkative than usual. He kept things quick and concise to get through the trial as efficiently as possible and if Apollo looked his way more often he didn’t take notice. The witness was getting agitated at Apollo’s pressing and running everyone in circles and Klavier’s urge to leave rose by the second. The counters from the witness were so demeaning and it wasn’t even aimed at Klavier but he still felt the pang of guilt from a man who wasn’t in his life anymore.
When they finally had chance to adjourn for the day, Klavier couldn’t be more relieved, and he gathered his files a little more methodically than usual just to put space between himself and that witness. He’d hated the whole day, and by the looks of it the witness would be back again the following day as well. He had to prepare for that.
“Are you ok, Klavier?”
The prosecutor startled. He’d not noticed that Apollo was still in the room and an easily faked smile slid onto his face to hide it.
“Of course, Herr Forehead, perfectly ok. It was a difficult witness, ja? You did well.”
The act was a familiar one, deflecting away any worries anyone might have had. After all, he was a music icon and had an image to maintain. Apollo’s flat look gave him pause.
“You know my eyes don’t have an off switch, right?”
Klavier swallowed thickly; he’d forgotten about Apollo’s particular skill. Slowly picking up his files, his fingers tight around the papers, he moved to walk past Apollo, but the shorter man quickly blocked his path.
“What’s going on?” Apollo softly asked, and Klavier’s gaze flickered to the witness stand for a moment before he motioned for Apollo to follow him out to an empty lobby where Klavier sat on a bench.
“What is it you want to know?”
“You were quieter than normal. You usually butt in every other sentence, and I think it’s that witness. My bracelet kept reacting to you every time you spoke. I…I have a hunch on why, but I’d rather hear it from you.”
“Ach, so you noticed it too, of course.” Apollo just looked at Klavier, waiting for him to continue. “He talks and acts like my brother.” Apollo nodded. Klavier sat there quietly, staring at the ground, remembering how it was like his brother had been back in the room berating him over nothing. He tried to hide the tremble in his fingers as he fiddled with a plectrum he always kept in his pocket, flipping it around idly as Apollo sat next to him, but ultimately he knew that the attorney would notice.
Apollo’s hand resting gently on his shoulder said as much, and the gesture coupled with the soft look of sympathy in Apollo’s gaze was as clear to Klavier as if the other man had spoken the words aloud: “You’re safe now.”
That meant more to Klavier than Apollo would ever know.
The next day was tougher than the first. It turned out that the witness was trickier than anyone had anticipated and was buckling under the pressure of being cross-examined – a clear sign of being guilty in Klavier’s book – and there were moments where Klavier wanted to bolt from the room, but he held his ground with a glance to Apollo and how determined the attorney was at taking this guy down. Eventually the trial came to a close, but not before the witness (now the guilty party) rounded on Klavier.
“You!” He pointed to Klavier and the prosecutor tilted his head curiously. “You were supposed to get the other guy convicted! You had one job and you screwed it up! What kind of prosecutor lets a defendant go free, huh?” The man was clearly furious and Klavier had locked up, seeing his brother instead, and he stared at this man for a good few moments before he managed to speak.
“That man wasn't guilty,” he began slowly, confused, “It's my job to find the guilty party, not to convict an innocent one.”
This apparently didn't satisfy the witness enough and he was about to vault over the stand at Klavier when a couple of bailiffs grabbed hold of him at the judge's demand. They dragged the witness away and the judge sighed, declaring court adjourned. As people filed out, Klavier was conspicuously not present; he was instead hidden underneath the prosecutor’s bench, pushed into the space as far as he could, trembling fearfully with his knees tucked up to his chest and his hands clamped over his ears in a way he hadn’t done for a very long time. When he was a child, he used to hide from Kristoph’s anger, and when he’d hidden well enough Kristoph would just shout through the house at him because he knew that Klavier would be able to hear it.
Once again, Apollo came to find him, and the gentle question of his name made Klavier jolt, his eyes wide with the initial panic that Kristoph had found him again. He whacked his head on the underside of the bench, hissing in pain with tears in his eyes, and then he warily looked back at who had found him to see Apollo instead of Kristoph. The vice in his chest loosened just a little. Klavier swallowed and attempted a watery smile as Apollo shuffled to sit next to him under the bench – being shorter has is perks sometimes, Klavier noted.
“He can’t hurt you anymore, Klavier.”
How Apollo knew was anyone’s guess, but Klavier supposed that his reactions the day before had given Apollo a clue or three.
“I know,” Klavier answered eventually, his voice far softer than Apollo had ever heard it, “it doesn’t stop him living in my head though.”
They sat together in silence for a few minutes, Klavier calming with Apollo sat next to him to provide quiet support. The attorney understood having someone stick around longer in memory than in physical presence. When Klavier finally lifted his head again, the smile of thanks he gave to Apollo was stronger than the first, and Apollo smiled back before getting out from under the bench.
“People are probably gonna ask where we are soon,” he said, holding his hand out to Klavier. The rockstar took it and stood.
“Why did you come and find me?” asked Klavier as they left the courtroom.
“I noticed you didn’t come out.” Apollo replied. “And I had to stop myself from walking up to that witness and punch him, so I figured leaving the room was a smart idea.”
Klavier laughed. Apollo, though momentarily confused, laughed with him.
“You wanted to punch him? So violent of you, Herr Forehead~”
Apollo shrugged, “He was being a dick and you were upset by it.” It took a few seconds for Apollo to realise what he’d said, a blush creeping over his face in record speed when he realised that they were still holding hands. Neither one of them had pulled away. Klavier just smiled, bowing a little and kissing the back of Apollo’s hand like he was a fair maiden. Apollo squawked at this, as Klavier had expected, going even redder and yanking his hand back. Klavier had to laugh again, smiling at the flustered attorney.
“Well, I’m not upset anymore.”