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Kristoph was drowsy in his chair when the guard unlocked the cell with Klavier in tow. Ah, that was right. It was time for their weekly visit. Somehow he'd lost track of the time.
Today, perplexingly, Klavier carried several large tote bags with him.
"Thank you, officer," Klavier said with a handsome grin as the door locked behind him. As a prosecutor, Klavier was the only one who was allowed such privileges. Even Kristoph's defense attorney had to meet him in the visitation room with Kristoph's hands cuffed, as though he were liable to snap and commit some grisly murder at the sight of another human despite having lived over thirty years without having harmed a hair on most people's heads. The whole affair was depressing.
"Klavier," Kristoph greeted him simply. He wasn't about to show Klavier that it was a relief to see him.
"Hi, Kristoph." Klavier was in unusually high spirits as he set the bags down on the floor.
"Klavier, what is the meaning of all of this?" Kristoph said, eyeing the bags suspiciously. Though they had reconciled on the face of it, Kristoph couldn't help but harbor a lingering suspicion that Klavier hadn't really forgiven him. It seemed logical to Kristoph that the gesture had been more for Klavier to restore a semblance of normalcy and security than due to any desire to nurture a relationship with him, let alone the rather intimate nature of their previous relationship.
A part of him feared that Klavier was planning some kind of ultimate revenge, perhaps even with the help of Phoenix Wright. Klavier probably didn't have it in him, but Wright had proven there was no end to the dirty tricks he'd pull to take revenge.
Klavier didn't answer his brother at first. Humming to himself, he pulled out a string of fairy lights and began to drape them over various furniture in the jail cell.
It took a moment for Kristoph to register the tune in his shock: Freu dich, o Welt. A Christmas hymn.
His heart seized. Was it really Christmas again? He truly was starting to lose track of the time in here. To him, it was just another day of reading, writing, calisthenics, trying not to lose his mind. On second thought, the staffing had been somewhat lighter today; he just hadn't registered the reason for it.
"Klavi, don't tell me…"
"That's right." Klavier beamed. "Since you can't go out and celebrate, I brought Christmas to you."
"Don't you have others you could be celebrating with?" Kristoph folded his arms. "This is all rather grim, and I wouldn't want to dampen your—"
"Ach—komm schon, don't give me that," Klavier cut him off, fishing a sad plastic miniature Christmas tree out of the bag and setting it on Kristoph's desk. "I'm doing this because I want to. I don't want you to spend the holiday alone."
Stunned into silence, Kristoph looked up at his brother as Klavier hung little ornaments on the tree.
He wasn't used to such tender touches these days. Sure, he had built up a pleasant enough rapport with some of the guards, but he couldn't call to mind a time in recent memory that someone had done something just because they cared about him.
"Do you remember the last Christmas we spent together? Before all of this happened?" Klavier gestured at the cell.
The memory brought a smile to Kristoph's lips. "How could I forget? The lovely dinner…the dancing…the night we shared."
It had seemed an eternity ago. The two of them wrapped up in each other, bodies pressed together under the sheets, kissing each other hungrily and whispering I love you, I love you, I love you until the intensity of their pleasure swallowed up even the ability to speak.
It was like a memory from another life. That was before Kristoph had experienced agony and a gut-wrenching public humiliation like no other on the stand and Klavier had rubbed salt into the fresh wound, one that still felt scabbed rather than healed. Before Kristoph had lost everything.
"It's been on my mind, honestly," Klavier said, sweeping his hair aside.
Kristoph couldn't say it was the same for himself. Those feelings and memories had felt too painful to even try to access since he'd landed in here. Still, he found them creeping back into his heart now—first as echo, then as the genuine item.
"The way you love me…" Klavier continued, in the absence of a response from Kristoph. "…isn't like the way anyone else loves me." He pulled up a chair at Kristoph's side, pulling along one final tote bag.
Kristoph heaved a little laugh, shuffling to give him room. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Probably both," Klavier said. "We know how to push all each other's buttons, in all the good and bad ways."
Kristoph nodded. He was in the habit of speaking less these days—fewer people to talk to.
"Naja, enough of me getting nostalgic." Klavier retrieved a thermos and two plastic mugs from his bag. "I know how you feel about plastic, but this was the only way I could bring this in without the bag clinking. Here."
He poured a sweet- and spicy-smelling dark liquid into Kristoph's cup— he recognized it immediately as glühwein.
"Did you make this yourself?" Kristoph inquired, noting the fresh orange wedge floating in his cup.
"Of course." Klavier squeezed Kristoph's shoulder. "I also know how you feel about store-bought glühwein. The lebkuchen is from the bakery, though."
"Well, I suppose I can overlook that." Kristoph raised his cup for a toast, looking Klavier in the eye as was custom.
"Fröhliche Weihnachten, mein Bruder," Klavier murmured.
"Fröhliche Weihnachten, mein Herz." The German spilled out of Kristoph's mouth without him thinking about it, as did the rather romantic term of endearment.
Klavier's eyes widened, and if Kristoph took a bit of satisfaction that he could still make his brother blush, he hid it by raising the cup to his lips.
He took the first sip of the glühwein—sweet and nostalgic. It was tepid rather than hot, but it was the first time he'd had anything to drink since 2026, and the warming effect of the alcohol as it passed his throat more for made up for the actual temperature of it.
"Thank you, Klavier. This is very kind of you." He reached out to squeeze Klavier's hand tentatively.
"Kristoph…" His brother's brow creased as he cast his gaze off to the side, those pretty lips of his curling into a pout. He seemed to be turning something over in his mind.
But whatever doubts in his face seemed to vanish. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Kristoph's lips. It was earnest and sensual, reminding him of the early days of their relationship.
Kristoph set his cup down and stroked Klavier's face. The hurt still constricted in his chest as much as he was sure it did in Klavier's, but neither of them could deny the comfort the kiss brought them.
Klavier, impatient as usual, began to caress his brother's arms and chest, but Kristoph caught his wrist in an easy grip. He moved his lips to Klavier's ear and murmured, "I trust you'll find a way to commandeer the footage?"
Klavier shook his hand free and, in a deft move, grasped Kristoph's hand to kiss it instead. "I asked the guard if he could turn the security cameras off. Just for a night."
Kristoph smiled, proud of his brother's cleverness. "Well, then. Merry Christmas to us—and let's take our time, then, shall we? Since we have the evening to ourselves."
They toasted again and drank, their eyes twinkling with more than just the reflection of the fairy lights.