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Kay Faraday awoke to the sound of the Jammin’ Ninja theme.
This was far from noteworthy in itself; Kay’s alarm had been set to the Jammin’ Ninja theme for several years at this point. What was less usual, however, was the fact that instead of waking up in her nice comfy, warm bed in her nice comfy, warm apartment, she was slumped on a cold, hard floor, her back against a cold, hard wall, with her hands and feet tied together with rope.
Kay opened her eyes, saw a flash of gross basement, and closed them again in the hopes that this was some kind of unpleasant stress dream.
The Jammin’ Ninja theme stopped, and Kay cracked an eye open hopefully.
Same depressing concrete.
Kay sighed and opened both her eyes all the way and sat up straight, the better to evaluate her current situation. Her initial impulse had been correct—she was definitely in some kind of basement. It was mostly unfurnished save for a few shelving units in the corner, and the only light came from a high, narrow window. Kay’s cellphone—presumably the source of the Jammin’ Ninja theme, since that was her ringtone as well as her alarm—was lying a few yards away from her on the floor.
Weird that whoever tied me up like this didn’t take away my phone, she thought. Probably a good sign, on the whole. It implied they were either completely incompetent or weren’t intending to keep her locked up for very long. Or both. At least that was kind of a silver lining. Kay liked finding silver linings. This wasn’t much of one, but she didn’t really expect much better from being knocked out and tied up.
Kay had known, when she’d become a prosecutor two years ago, that it wasn’t exactly a safe occupation. Her own father had been murdered by a defendant, back when she’d been a kid. But Kay had never been one to let fear stop her, and when she’d decided that following in her dad’s footsteps was the best way to reveal corruption and find the truth, she hadn’t hesitated.
Still, though, Kay had never had anything like this happen before. She specialized in white-collar crime, bringing down unethical and exploitative corporations, which meant that her work generally had a lot more poring over accounting statements and a lot fewer high-stakes shootouts.
So this whole thing was a new experience for her.
Kay scooted herself along the floor towards her phone; fortunately, whoever’d tied her up hadn’t thought to fasten her to the wall. More hints of incompetence. She saw as she drew closer that the screen was showing 18 missed calls from Tyrell Badd. The guy was probably having an extremely understated panic attack.
Now that she’d reached the phone, though…the screen was locked, and Kay didn’t think she’d be able to put her password in, not with her hands tied up like this. The phone had face and fingerprint recognition capabilities, but prosecutors were forbidden from enabling them due to security concerns.
Kay lowered her face to the phone and attempted to tap out the code to unlock it using her nose.
“What on earth are you doing?”
Kay jerked her head up so fast that she nearly gave herself whiplash. The voice had come from the tiny window, and as Kay looked she could see that someone had pushed the panes open and was leaning in to look at her. Her initial assessment of the person was “old geezer,” due to him having gray hair, but as she took in his face she realized it was a kid, a boy, probably in his late teens, glaring at her far too judgementally for someone wearing a bowtie.
“Your nose doesn’t have anywhere near the necessary dexterity for you to be able to use it like that,” the boy continued.
“Thanks for the tip, kid,” Kay said.
The boy looked offended. “I’m not a kid. I’m seventeen.”
“Legally speaking, that makes you a kid,” Kay informed him. “Anyway, are you just going to stand there providing color commentary, or do you think you could come down and help untie me?” Something was nagging at the back of her mind—the kid looked familiar. Like she’d met him somewhere before. Wait, he wasn’t— “Unless you’re the one who tied me up like this in the first place,” she added, suspiciously.
“Of course not!” the boy said indignantly. “I’d never have left your phone accessible like that.”
“Okay, cool,” Kay said. She’d been expecting more of a moral disavowal than a skill-based one, but…whatever. “Then help? Please?”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” the boy said.
“Why not?”
“Because if I come down there I’m not sure I’d be able to get back up again. And then we’d both be stuck.”
It wasn’t a bad point, Kay had to admit. But… “If you untie me I can use my phone to call for help,” she said.
The boy frowned. “I suppose. But are you sure you even get service down there?”
“Yeah!” Kay said impatiently. “It’s been ringing.”
The boy hesitated another moment before jumping down with surprising agility, managing to land on his feet. Kay presented him with her bound hands, and he untied them, then her feet.
“Thanks,” Kay said, massaging her wrist.
The boy gave an oddly formal little bow. “You’re welcome.”
And something about that bow rang familiar to Kay again, she’d definitely met the kid before, maybe a long time ago… “Who are you, anyway?” she asked, reaching for her phone.
“Oh yes,” the boy said. “Remiss of me not to introduce myself.” He cleared his throat. “I am the Great Thief Yatagarasu.”
Kay froze mid-phone-unlock. The Yatagarasu was famous. They went after murderers who were too powerful or wealthy to be caught by conventional means, stealing the evidence needed to expose their crimes to the world. There was no way this kid—he was joking, right? But he’d looked deadly serious. No, wait. “But the Yatagarasu’s too—I mean, they’ve been around for years. You’d have been a toddler when they started out.”
“Yes, well. I am the Second Yatagarasu. After m-my father.” The boy shut his mouth abruptly.
And something about that my father…
“Hold on,” Kay said. “You’re Miles Edgeworth. Aren’t you?”
“Hey! That’s not—it’s supposed to be a secret identity!” he said petulantly. “How do you know?”
If it’s such a big secret, maybe don’t go around blurting out you’re the Yatagarasu to everyone you meet.
“I remember when your father died,” Kay told him. “In the courthouse. You were there…”
Kay had still been a law student then, but she’d been at the courthouse observing a trial on the day of the DL-6 incident. She remembered the polite little boy who’d come in with his father, remembered the horrible feeling that had washed over her when she’d seen him being carried unconscious out of the elevator—thinking about how she’d felt the day Daddy had been shot, right there in that same courthouse… She hadn’t forgotten Miles Edgeworth’s face.
“Y-you know about that?” Edgeworth asked.
Kay nodded. “Yeah. I’m a lawyer. A prosecutor, actually.”
“O-oh,” Edgeworth said. “So when it comes to the whole Great Thief thing, ah…”
“What Great Thief thing?” Kay said, and winked at him.
Edgeworth just looked confused. “The thing I just…”
“Never mind,” Kay said quickly.
“You’d better make that call,” Edgeworth said, regaining some of his earlier officiousness. “You wouldn’t want your phone to die before you got the chance.”
Kay glanced down. Indeed, the battery was at eighteen percent: not too dire, but better safe than sorry. She typed in her passcode and called Uncle Badd.
“What…do you think you’re doing…Kay Faraday?”
Kay winced. “Uh. So I maybe got just a little bit kidnapped?”
“Please tell me…you did not just say…what I think you said.”
“I’m not hurt or anything,” Kay reassured him. “Look, the good news is, it means I’m probably on the right track, you know?”
“If they bothered…trying to stop you…then yes,” Badd admitted.
Kay fist-pumped. Edgeworth regarded this with a sort of tolerant disdain.
“Anyway,” Kay said, “like I said, I’m safe, but I think we’re kind of stuck here for the moment. Do you think you could—”
“Where are you?”
Kay moved the phone away from her ear and asked Edgeworth, “Hey, where exactly are we?”
“The Gatewater Hotel.”
“I know that,” Kay told him. “I meant where exactly. Like, how’d you find this room?”
“It’s right next to the loading dock. I didn’t see a sign identifying it, but it appears to be some sort of storage cellar. Maybe for dry goods, although it doesn’t seem to be in use at the moment.”
“It’s a basement room right next to the loading dock,” Kay said into the phone, omitting little Arsène Lupin Jr’s deductions.
“We should be there…in half an hour,” Badd said.
“Sounds good,” said Kay. She could feel herself regaining vivacity already. This was fine! It was going to be fine.
“See you…soon,” Badd said, and hung up.
“They’re on their way,” Kay told Edgeworth. “Should be about thirty minutes.”
Edgeworth appeared less gratified by this news than one might have expected. “By they, you don’t mean the, er, the police, do you?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Oh dear,” Edgeworth said faintly.
Why is he…oh, right. Great Thief and all.
“Don’t worry,” Kay told him. “I won’t spill your secret identity.”
“R-really? But you’re a prosecutor. Shouldn’t you…”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I have bigger fish to fry. Besides, I haven’t actually seen you steal anything yet. It’s not like it’s an actual crime to say you’re a Great Thief.”
“Well, yes,” Edgeworth said, looking relieved. “I will steal things,” he added defensively. “But the Yatagarasu is a noble thief, who only takes what is necessary to reveal the truth! And I’m still new.”
“Yeah, about that,” Kay said. “You said your dad…you mean Gregory Edgeworth, the famous defense attorney, was secretly the Yatagarasu?”
“I only found out recently myself,” Edgeworth admitted. “He left me some things. Finding them turned out to be…complicated.”
I wonder what happened. But Kay had a feeling Edgeworth wouldn’t react well to prying. “So what brings the Yatagarasu to the Gatewater Hotel, anyway?” she asked instead.
Edgeworth nodded. “There was a murder here, a few weeks ago. One of the hotel staff. A housekeeper.”
“Oh yeah,” Kay said. She’d heard a bit about it. “They made an arrest, didn’t they?”
“Yes. But the case never went to trial.”
“Not enough evidence, probably.”
Edgeworth shook his head. “There was plenty of evidence. But the suspect was a prominent politician. It would’ve been a huge scandal if he’d been convicted. So it was hushed up. Dropped.”
Kay sighed. “I guess if they thought the victim was ‘only’ a housekeeper…”
“Then no one would care,” Edgeworth finished. “But it doesn’t matter who you are. How important or wealthy or powerful. No one deserves to get away with murder. That’s why the Yatagarasu exists. To expose the crimes of those the law cannot touch.”
“So you’re here investigating,” Kay said. “Well, good luck.”
“What about you?” Edgeworth asked. “Why did someone bother doing all this to you?”
“It’s not as exciting as murder,” Kay told him. “But we’ve noticed some funky financial stuff going on here at the Gatewater. Income streams that can’t be explained, executive bonuses that just disappear from the tax records…I’m trying to get what I need to prove something’s up.”
“I wonder…” Edgeworth began.
“What?”
“I’m reasonably sure the Gatewater management was involved in covering for that politician. I assumed they were just doing it because of his influence, but if you say they’re receiving money that doesn’t have any legitimate source…”
“Then maybe the guy paid them off!” Kay finished. “I’ll subpoena that politician’s financials. He probably ran it through campaign funds or something sneaky like that, but you never know what a surprise audit might manage to turn up.”
Edgeworth nodded. “I’ll keep an eye out for clues about any payoff while I’m collecting evidence about the murder. I assume your email address is publically available, should I find anything?”
“Aw,” Kay said, jokingly pouting a little. “I don’t get a super-cool Yatagarasu calling card with the information?”
“Ngh! That’s for the murderers,” Edgeworth said irritably.
“Right, right. Well—actually, hang on. When we get out of here, you’re going back to investigating, aren’t you?”
“I was planning on it, yes.”
“Me too,” Kay said. “So…wanna join forces? Might be more effective. Also we can warn each other if anyone suspicious-looking is coming up behind us with a blunt object.”
Edgeworth looked skeptical. “I’m not sure if it’s appropriate for a Great Thief to work with a prosecutor.”
“Sure it is!” Kay told him. “We’re both fighting for justice, aren’t we? And besides, criminal and law enforcement is one of the most classic team-ups out there.”
“You’re not just saying all that as a ploy to catch me?”
“Nah,” Kay said. “Like I told you, so far all I’ve seen you do to break the law is maybe trespassing, and I actively begged you to do that.”
“I guess it might be efficient,” Edgeworth admitted. “Very well.”
“Really?” Kay said. “Awesome! This is great, I normally just work with detectives. I’ve never had a real assistant before!”
“I’m not your assistant!” Edgeworth looked outraged at the notion.
“Below a Great Thief’s dignity, I guess,” Kay said. “Investigative partner, then?”
“That’s acceptable,” Edgeworth said. He stuck out his hand formally. Kay shook it.
Things are looking up…I’m definitely on the track of something big, and I have a capable new assistant. I guess getting caught like this had a pretty good silver lining after all.