What You (Think You) Deserve

by diamondforger

Summary:

Klavier goes to Khura'in looking for answers. He finds more questions and Nahyuta Sahdmadhi.

Chapter 1: On Sight

When he learned Apollo Justice wouldn't be returning to America, Klavier Gavin knew he had to go to Khura'in.  

It only made sense, Klavier was a highly experienced international lawyer after all, a specialist at adapting to different systems. 

He was also maybe a little obsessed with the attorney.

Which was perfectly defensible. Apollo Justice had blown through Klavier's life like a tornado, breaking open secrets kept for years and sending the two men Klavier was closest to to jail within months of each other.

It'd been painful, but like ripping off a band-aid, it'd been necessary. Klavier had lacked the strength to do what needed to be done.

Throughout the whole affair, Apollo had treated it as nothing more than a job, treated Klavier like an annoyance even as he saved Klavier's life.

Could anyone truly blame a man for wanting to know more?

And could anyone truly blame him for becoming even more curious once when his initial research indicated Apollo Justice had seemingly appeared out of thin air at the age of ten?

There were no records of his birth, nothing about his parents, no adoption records despite the fact that he was raised by a Khurainese couple that were seemingly not related to him.

Well, there was one record Klavier found. A German birth certificate from the right year with the last name Justice. But, the record was for a baby girl.

There were no further records of that little girl. No records of the mother, Thala Justice, either. There were records of the father, Jove Justice, but none him getting married, which prompted Klavier conclude his "wife's" name was fake. Jove Justice had been a traveling musician before mysteriously disappearing a few years after the birth.

A series of mysteries so ludicrous and disconnected that it'd made Klavier feel insane for even considering it.

But then, Apollo Justice dethroned the Queen of Khura'in, with Phoenix Wright by his side.

Wright returned to America, but Apollo did not. Rumors floated around as to the reason why, but the general consensus was: Apollo wasn't planning to return at all.

Klavier had to know more. He couldn't face never seeing Apollo again, couldn't move on without finding the truth.

There was a chance, however small, that Apollo Justice was trans just like him.

So, he wrapped up all his cases and bought a one-way ticket to Khura'in.

He curbed his enthusiasm by packing light with a plan to send for the rest of his stuff only if Apollo accepted his help. He wouldn't beg Apollo for his attention, even if he wanted to.

No, Klavier Gavin didn't beg. He strutted into center of Khurainese law, Tehm'pul Temple with only a guitar case and a backpack. With a flash of his credentials, he was led to the office of the Minister of Justice.

It was in that office that Apollo sat, surrounded by paperwork. The thrill of seeing Apollo in person for the first time in over a year was cut short the sight of his companion.

Standing by Justice's side was the single most beautiful being Klavier had ever laid eyes on. 

Klavier knew the kind of man he was. He turned heads just walking down the street; he wasn't ashamed to admit that.

But, the man with his hand draped delicately over Apollo’s shoulder made Klavier feel cheap and sleazy by comparison. An intense, despairing  jealousy filled him, making it hard to focus as Apollo greeted him with an exasperated sigh. 

Deep emerald eyes pinned Klavier to the spot; that man seemed to hate him on sight. He flipped his long silver braid over his shoulder with a dismissive motion.

“If you are here to play games, I ask that you not waste my Minister’s time,” the man's voice was low and calm, in a tone that would have been soothing in any other situation.

Annoyance faded to surprise as Apollo rubbed the back of his neck nervously.  “Hey now, Nahyuta, there’s no need for that. He’s a pain in the ass, but I was still going to hear him out.” 

Nahyuta let out a breath and relaxed like a regal guard dog settling at Apollo’s side as if he belonged there. 

Klavier’s composure hung by a thread as he struggled to remember why he’d come in the first place. He’d heard of Nahyuta Sahdmadhi, even seen pictures of him, but none captured the ethereal beauty that emanated from the man. A prince in every way, from the intricate white and gold of his coat to his unwavering countenance. His back was ramrod straight, his head held high, and his movements practiced.

“I'm an international prosecutor,” Klavier said, not sure if he even should continue, but his clever mouth worked faster than his brain. “And I hear there is a lot of work that needs doing in this country.”

Nahyuta remained stoic as he turned to Apollo. 

Apollo was far less so. His emotions played across his face. Annoyance and rejection gave way to exhaustion and resignation. 

“He’s…” Apollo’s face twisted, like he was chewing on a lemon. “He’s very good at his job, despite appearances, and… we really do need the help.”

Nahyuta's head tilted to the side and his eyes narrowed. Most would see the change of expression as perfectly calm and collected, but Klavier caught the storm broiling behind those beautiful green eyes as the man turned to Apollo with a smile. 

“I thank the Holy Mother every day that you were able to find so many priceless allies during your time in America,” Nahyuta said calmly, warmly. 

His eyes were not warm when they briefly flicked back to Klavier. 

Klavier wasn't used to being anything less than the center of attention, wasn’t used to having to work to keep eyes on him. But, Nahyuta and Apollo talked to each other like he wasn't even there. 

“I’d think you should thank the man directly.”

Klavier was met with a cold glare sharp as a blade against his throat. 

“What are you implying?” 

Apollo cleared his throat, eyes darting between the two of them with such genuine confusion that Klavier couldn’t help but laugh. 

Apollo’s stark obliviousness to his own magnetism only pulled Klavier in harder. His chest ached with the need to show Apollo just how much he mattered, to worship him not just with physical touch, but with words, poetry, music. 

Klavier had written what likely amounted to a whole album, scattered between different notebooks that he'd avoided turning into a finished product. He had enough self-awareness to know what it would look like for him to return to touring with tragic ballads of unrequited love replacing rocking pieces about fighting crime. 

Not to mention he hadn’t found a guitarist that could replace Daryan. He hadn't found a detective to replace him, either.

The door flew open behind Klavier, and he jumped out of the way.

A girl — small in stature, but large in presence — marched into the room, not bothering to announce herself or even acknowledge Klavier's presence.

“Brother, I have just received great news.” She announced, hips cocked to one side as she beamed at Nahyuta with unassailable confidence. “The Magistrates welcomed the proposal. We will begin work on the program as soon as…”

Halfway through her sentence her eyes wandered to Klavier. She went still, a blush staining her cheeks as her announcement trailed off into nothing. 

Her image of confidence shattered, her whole presence shrinking as her mouth opened and closed with only a few disconnected sounds coming out. 

Klavier looked to Apollo for guidance and caught the man rolling his eyes as he typed out a message on his phone.

"I'm already late for my next trial," he muttered, "Can you handle this?"

Nahyuta nodded, and Apollo exited the room with a quick bow.

The girl didn't acknowledge his exit, her eyes still transfixed on Klavier.

“May I introduce you to Queen Rayfa Padma Khura'in,” Nahyuta’s smile was genuine as he looked down at the teenager. “I serve as her regent as she hasn’t yet mastered the art of spirit channeling.” 

Klavier bit his tongue as several questions jumped to the front of his mind. Questions about the choice to continue the monarchy, the choice to follow literally ancient rules about who could or could not lead— not to mention the choice to put a child on the throne, even if she wasn't technically in charge yet.

Those sort of radical questions could wait until after he’d gotten into the good graces of the people in power. 

“It’s an honor, your Majesty.” Klavier bowed deeply. 

“The proper term in our country is Your Eminence.” Nahyuta’s correction was quiet, but Klavier could feel the pointed sting. Without Apollo to mediate, he was now alone facing off against the two most powerful people in Khura'in.

“Oh, it’s not a problem.” Rayfa blushed even harder, and Klavier shot a knowing smirk at Nahyuta. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Your Eminence,” Klavier straightened out, slipping into his rock star persona like a comfortable robe. This wasn't his first brush with statesmen, and it wouldn't be his last. “I’ve come here to help rebuild your legal system, and I can't do that if I’m unfamiliar with even the basics of your government." 

The queen of Khura’in shifted on her feet just like any other teen girl unsure how to react to Klavier’s attention. Klavier usually flattered them with a few moments of his attention, but ultimately kept them at a distance. However, he could sense getting her trust would be key in his new role. 

“I’m a prosecutor, and I’ve come to help an old…” Klavier stumbled on what word to use for Apollo. He felt the weight of Nahyuta’s eyes on him as he landed on, “A fellow lawyer from America. You know him, the short one with the large forehead that was just here.” 

“Oh?” Rayfa’s blush faded slightly as a gleeful smirk lit up her face. “You’re referring to Horn Head. I’d barely noticed his forehead when it’s next to those ridiculous antennas.” 

Klavier laughed, and Nahyuta stiffened, his brows twitching toward a furrow ever so slightly. 

“Don’t act as if you’re suddenly above nicknames.” Rayfa's laugh was far haughtier than most teen girls, but Klavier could tell there was no malice behind it. 

The very faintest of blushes colored Nahyuta's pale cheeks, and Klavier knew befriending Rayfa was the key. The key to political power, the key to getting close to Apollo, and the key to getting Nahyuta to accept his presence even if the man never liked him. 

“What was this proposal you were talking about?” Klavier asked, finding he barely had to exaggerate his interest. 

Rayfa’s blush returned with a vengeance, but this time she was able to push through it. 

“There’s a famous school for lawyers in America. I proposed we should create a program that would provide a 'full ride' scholarship program for any Khurainese that are accepted.” 

“That wouldn’t happen to be Themis Legal Academy?” Klavier leaned forward and saw her visibly swallow. 

“Yes,” she mumbled. 

“Excellent!” He snapped his fingers, and the girl started. “That’s my alma mater; I still have quite a bit of pull there. I can help with the applications, and with a little luck, I might even be able to convince the administration to set up a program specifically for your students.” 

It would be easy to convince them; the school was desperate for any good publicity after the Means fiasco. Klavier decided not to mention that part.

Rayfa’s hand went to cover her mouth as it hung open, and Nahyuta’s stoicism vanished as he stared in wide-eyed shock at Klavier’s offer. 

“I’d offer my assistance to teach directly, but unfortunately, instructing others has never been my strength.”

“You’ve already offered plenty.” Nahyuta’s smile was genuine this time, but Klavier sensed something hiding under it. “Every day, I find myself surprised by the generosity of the friends that Minister Justice brings to our door.” 

Nahyuta's otherwise perfect American accent faltered on Apollo's last name. 

“Minister Justice?” Klavier twirled a lock of hair around his finger, a flare of hope daring to light in his chest. “Is that how you always refer to him?” 

“In a professional context, yes.” Nahyuta’s kind smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

Klavier accepted the response with glee. He’d found a chink the regal man’s armor, there was no need to dig further at the moment. 

“That’s more than fair.” Klavier snapped his fingers idly. “I wouldn’t want to undermine the good work he’s doing here, so suppose I should retire Herr Forehead for the moment.” 

“Herr Forehead?” Rayfa cackled. 

Nahyuta sighed deeply, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yes, such petty insults would not be ideal for the head of the new legal system.” 

“But, we can still call him that in private, right?” Rayfa asked.

Nahyuta smile grew as he looked down at the girl, a deep fondness apparent as he gave her a small nod. 

“Excellent!” The girl straightened, smirking mischievously. “I shall set up a private meeting with him presently.” 

She turned on her heel and marched out the door.

"Don't interrupt him while he's in court," Nahyuta called after her.

The door swung shut behind her, leaving the two men standing in silence. 

“She seems like a sweet kid,” Klavier said. 

Surprise flashed in Nahyuta’s eyes. “That is not most people’s first response to Her Eminence.” 

“I’m sure she’s quite the handful, but I can’t judge. I was the same way at her age. My older brother always said I…”

A spear of ice shot through Klavier's chest as he remembered who he was talking about and what that man had done. The scope of Kristoph’s betrayal was still an open wound, hiding just below the surface waiting to take the wind out of Klavier’s sails at the worst times. 

Klavier could feel Nahyuta’s eyes on him yet again, but this time it was an expression of genuine curiosity. Not judgment, but sincere, empathetic care. 

“If I’m staying, I should find a hotel.” Klavier smiled brightly as he firmly changed the subject. “Any recommendations?” 

Nahyuta pulled out his phone. "I've just confirmed with Minister Justice that you will be provided free room and board at the palace so long as you're working with us."

“The palace?” Klaiver wasn’t sure what caught him off guard so heavily. He was a master at getting perks like free housing, but usually he had to work for it. He’d expected to have to earn it with Apollo — hoped, almost, that he’d have to flirt and argue with the man to get his way. He’d even pay rent if they asked, because being close had so many perks. 

Nahyuta moved to the door, gesturing for Klaiver to follow him. “There has been a recent… 'clearing of house', I believe is the saying in America. There are many empty rooms in the palace; I’d rather fill them with people then let them fall into disrepair.”

“So, it was your decision?” Klavier struggled to keep pace with Nahyuta as they moved into the hallway. Despite their similar height, Nahyuta's legs seemed to stretch on forever, and his pace was unforgiving.

“They say you should keep your friends close.” Nahyuta's smile almost seemed sincere. 

“That’s certainly the first half of the saying.” 

Nahyuta ignored the comment. He nodded at a nearby guard who approached. 

“Show our guest to his lodgings. We’ve assigned him in the former Minister of Justice’s residence.” 

The guard paused for just a moment before nodding. Klavier followed the man out, wondering the whole time whether he’d made a grave mistake agreeing to remain on Nahyuta’s turf. 

Chapter 2: A Good Fifth Impression

Klavier had seen his fair share of overpriced rooms in his career, but he'd never seen a room with not only real gold trim, but real gemstones inlaid in the furniture.

It was obvious that sections of it had been entirely stripped, but the furniture that was left was intricate, carved with the level of detail that boasted money.

Even with all his fame and money, this would be the most expensive room Klavier had ever stayed in. 

Even so, Klaiver wasn’t stupid enough to believe the finery around him was a compliment. The previous minister’s murder had been the catalyst for Ga’ran’s fall. Anyone else would take this placement as an insult. Maybe Klavier should take it as an insult as well. He couldn’t be sure, not without asking Apollo. 

Luckily, he didn’t waste too long marinating on the question. He was in the middle of taking his clothes out of his guitar case (the case was just for show, he never took a good guitar on a flight) there was a knock on the door. 

Apollo leaned in the doorframe, no longer dressed in his vest and tie. Instead he wore a loose tunic, the same red as his vest except for the intricate pattern of gold and green running along its trim. 

The look flattered him. Despite the circles under his eyes, he looked happy, relaxed. 

“Is it fancy enough for you?”

Apollo’s smile warmed Klavier’s face. He was almost certain this was first time Apollo had ever smiled at him sincerely.

“You know, even being an international star, I never liked the fancy hotels. I put all the money into my concerts… and the after parties of course.” 

Apollo raised an eyebrow, something Klaiver dared compare to affection shining in his eyes. "Pity you couldn't spend that money making listenable music."

"Hate it all you want, but the people loved it."

"If by 'the people' you mean horny teen girls and Republicans, then I'd agree."

The comment stung — all the more so because it was true —, but Klavier didn't let it show. Twirling a lock of hair around his finger, he glanced around the room nonchalantly.

“Some would consider giving me a dead man’s bed an insult.”

“I wanted to clarify that,” Apollo said, clearing his throat. “It was my idea, but it’s not an insult. And it’s not a dead man’s bed, we replaced that.” 

“But, it’s not a compliment.” 

“What if I told you it was a strategy?” 

It was Klavier’s turn to raise an eyebrow. 

“To you, it’s a dead man’s room. The next guest will be told it was the room of a famous rock star. Or if you play your cards right, the room of one of the most famous prosecutors in Khura'in.” 

Klavier laughed and so did Apollo. 

“Smart, very smart.” 

With the weight lifted off Klavier's shoulders, he soaked in Apollo’s presence. He hadn’t realized how much he missed being around the man. Being across from him in court had been the height of Klavier’s law career (and the near destruction of it). In casual settings, it was all the more obvious that the aura around Apollo wasn’t an act. Something about him was just naturally magnetic, holding Klavier’s attention in a vice-like grip. 

And now, in Khura’in, the pull was even stronger. 

"Look, Gavin, I've never been particularly nice to you, because you annoy the shit out of me." Apollo picked at the hem of his shirt, grimacing. "But you've always helped me out when it counted. We're drowning in work here, and it feels like every world government is breathing down our necks just waiting for us to fail, so they can swoop in and take control of the spirit channeling capital of the world."

"Hostile government bureaucracy is somewhat of a specialty of mine." Klavier leaned forward, plastering on his most charming smile. "Flattery and a pretty face open a lot of doors."

"I'm sure you'd love that, but Prosecutor Edgeworth already called in some favors in Interpol. What we need is far more tedious."

Klavier sighed and nodded. "That's fine. I can't be the star of every show."

Apollo let out a deep sigh of relief and visibly relaxed.

"You wound me." Klavier put his hand to chest dramatically to cover up the real pain he felt. "To think I'd fly all the way here only to leave at the sight of paperwork."

"Hey! Come on, it's nothing personal!" Apollo wilted. "It's shit work, and I'm a pessimist. I'm always shocked when people stay to help."

The guilt on Apollo's face soothed Klavier's ego, and he relaxed again.

"Have there been others?"

"Oh, yeah, Ema's here. She's determined to make Khura'in the top country in the world for forensics somehow. She only comes to the temple when she needs to testify, but you should try and stay out of her way."

"Still hates me?"

"Yep." Apollo chuckled. "We've bonded over it."

"Seems like everyone here hates me." Klavier twirled his hair around his finger and sighed dramatically. "Maybe I should quit."

Apollo's eyed narrowed. "Yeah right, like that's ever stopped you."

Klavier's heart stuttered in his chest, and he turned away. He'd thought enduring Apollo's constant barbs had been difficult, but this was far worse. He was starting to get the foolish idea that he had a chance.

"Who else?"

"Blackquill, who's even more annoying than you, but he's going through the prisons with Datz and releasing all people locked up for bullshit reasons, which is most of them."

"Datz?"

"Oh yeah, he's my…" Apollo paused and Klavier leaned in with interest. "I've known him since I was a kid. He was locked up for being a rebel for years."

"You grew up here?"

Apollo paused again. "Oh… yeah, I thought that was common knowledge now. Did the news not mention that?"

"Nothing I read," Klavier said casually, as if he hadn't read every article he could get his hands on.

They'd all been shockingly light on details. Two American lawyers helped the rebels prove not only that the Queen Ga'ran of Khura'in's rule was illegitimate, but also that she'd killed both her husband and the leader of the rebellion. Some of the more sensational outlets reported that the former queen had faked her own death and used spirit channeling to pretend to be her dead husband — a claim so outlandish Klavier suspected it was true.

Apollo groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fuck! I was hoping I wouldn't have to explain this… Okay, look, my bio-dad died here, so I was adopted by the husband of the former queen turned leader of the rebellion, but I didn't know any of that because he never talked about it. He sent me away to America when I was ten and made me promise not to tell anyone where I was really from, didn't explain that it was for my own safety, but I did exactly as he asked. I didn't hear from him again until this whole mess, and he died before I got a proper explanation out of him."

"Oh…"

Klavier mulled over the story. Bizarrely, it made sense. So many pieces of the puzzle that was Apollo Justice clicked into place. His father's death, his sudden appearance in America, the lack of a paper trail.

Which meant the birth certificate, the one with a different first name and an F gender marker…

"Is that all?" Klavier asked nonchalantly.

Bewilderment crossed Apollo's face. "Are you serious?"

Klavier laughed. "Of course not, Herr Forehead. I was making a joke, surely you've heard of the concept?"

Apollo deflated. "Oh… yeah, very funny. I thought I'd escaped that stupid nickname, but you just had to tell Rayfa."

"Guilty as charged." Klavier held up his hands placatingly. "But in my defense, it was a perfect way to get in her good graces."

"You're worse than Phoenix." Apollo slumped back against the wall, his eyes closing.

Klavier's eyes fell to the man's neck, tracing the line from chin to collarbone. He'd never seen Apollo without a collared shirt before, and even that measly extra inch of skin made his blood run hot. He was suddenly all too aware that they were alone in Klavier's bedroom.

Klavier pictured himself pressing Apollo against the wall, kissing his neck and getting under his shirt.

The fantasy was cut off by a loud chime. Apollo tensed and pulled out his phone, visibly deflating as his eyes scanned the screen.

"Sorry," he muttered, shoving the phone back in his pocket, "Yet another fire to put out."

"Can I help?" Klavier offered.

"Nah." Apollo stretched and groaned. "Take your time to settle in. I've still gotta figure out how to use you."

Chapter 3: Reasons to Pray

Nahyuta strode into the bazaar with head aching and his stomach twisting into knots with hunger. The day had been one problem after another, without any time to rest, let alone eat.

While he was grateful for more help, figuring out what to do with Prosecutor Gavin had been yet another task on top of his already overwhelming workload.

Nahyuta made his way to his favorite stall, the owner already noticing his approach. By the time he reached her, she'd finished packing up his usual order of dumplings. She greeted him with a wide smile, and he returned the expression (or at least tried to).

Her eyes softened, and she leaned close to ask, "Rough day, huh? I've got some magic magatah'mans fresh out of the oven. Want one?"

Nahyuta nodded. As he retrieved his money, she vanished into the back of the shop, returning after a few moments with a dark green magatah'man. Steam rolled off it in the cool evening air.

"I can always count on you," he pressed the coins to her palm, squeezing her hand before letting go.

"Be careful with that one," she said with a sly grin. "This batch came out stronger than usual."

"Don't worry, Ah'nti, I always am."

As Nahyuta turned from the stall, his eyes caught on a flash of golden hair. Klavier Gavin stood out from the crowd, drawing everyone's eyes to him as he chatted with a young boy. A familiar dog squirmed in Klavier's arms, licking his face excitedly.

"Do you know him?"

Nahyuta turned back to the owner. "He's another American lawyer, just arrived today."

"He's pretty for a lawyer."

Nahyuta couldn't disagree. "How long has he been here?"

"Near an hour," she said with a sigh. "He made the mistake of asking Ahlbi questions. The kid's been talking nonstop the whole time."

"Pohlkunka! I'll go save him." Nahyuta bowed and quickly made his way over to the pair.

Klavier looked up as Nahyuta approached, his smile faltering.

Ahlbi continued talking, his voice only becoming audible above the crowd's noise when Nahyuta's was within arm's reach.

"But then, it turned out that the picture I took was the deciding piece of evidence proving that Amara was— oh! Hap’piraki, Prosecutor Sadhmadhi!"

"Hap’piraki. I hope you're not bothering Mr. Gavin," Nahyuta said, ruffling the kid's hair.

"Not at all," Klavier interjected as the dog in his arms barked and twisted to try to sniff Nahyuta. "I was looking for someone to tell me what really happened during Ga'ran's trial. The information online has been patchy; I don't think anyone outside the country really understands what happened."

"That is purposeful." Nahyuta shot a pointed look at Ahlbi. "Many private matters were discussed during the trial, and we've made an effort to keep certain aspects away from the general public."

"Aw! Come on, Prosecutor Sahdmadhi! I was just giving a general overview, not giving away national secrets!"

Klavier's reaction told Nahyuta that Ahlbi wasn't being entirely honest. Unsurprising, the child had a rather selective respect for rules.

"I can see to it that you receive all court documents related to the trial." Nahyuta smiled stiffly at Klavier. "It's necessary for you to understand what happened if you wish to help."

"Thank you, Prosecutor Sahdmadhi. That will be invaluable." Klavier response was so genuine that it felt fake. Ema had called Klavier a total fake. It would be humiliating if she was right and Nahyuta missed all the red flags.

Unfortunately, there were no red flags, which only made Nahyuta more convinced he was missing something.

"Wait! I don't even get to finish my story?" Ahlbi looked down sadly. "But, I was just getting to the good part!"

"Oh, no, by all means, continue." Klavier grinned at the kid. "You were an important part of the trial, after all. It's rare for witnesses to be so candid after the fact."

Ahlbi's eyes shone. "Oh, yes! I'm candid, and for a couple extra dahma, I'll be even more candid."

"Ahlbi!" Nahyuta chided.

"Oh, don't be such a stick-in-the-mud." Klavier lowered the dog, and he bounced back to his owner, rubbing against Ahlbi's legs. "The kid's got initiative. He's helping put food on the table for his family, after all."

"You make an excellent point," Nahyuta said between gritted teeth.

The way Ema and Apollo told it, he'd expected Klavier to be self-absorbed and out-of-touch. Instead, he was confronted with a seemingly grounded man capable of winning anyone over within seconds of meeting them.

He'd charmed Rayfa of all people. Nahyuta had known the girl her whole life.  She only seemed to shrink away from him as they grew older but a quick joke and smile from Klavier had soothed her instantly.  

The one expectation that rang true was Klavier's looks. The man was hot. "Hot" wasn't a term Nahyuta usually used, but there was no other word for it. Klavier Gavin was a walking piece of art, transfixing at every angle. He didn't so much move as he danced.

With a sharp snap of his fingers, Klavier brought all attention back to himself. He pulled some coins from his pocket and tossed them to Ahlbi.

"Continue your story, Herr Guide."

"I'll leave you to it," Nahyuta muttered quietly as his stomach gurgled.

Klavier shot him a grin and cheeky salute before returning his focus on Ahlbi. The kid launched back into his story as Nahyuta took his leave.

As he walked back to his residence, he shoved a dumpling in his mouth. The heat threatened to burn his tongue as he swallowed it down. He didn't let that stop him, stuffing another in his mouth.

Energy slowly seeped back into his aching body as he made his way through the rest of them, but his headache remained.

The magatah'man was still warm in his bag when he got back to his room. He took a modest slice, chewing through it quickly as he set up for the evening.

There was a dread that followed him as he dimmed the lights and lit incense. There was always a risk in doing this, a risk that something would go wrong when he was incapacitated. There were others that could step in for him, but the idea of forcing them to cover for his weakness filled him with shame.

The dread wasn't enough to stop the practice. He needed prayer to stay sane.

Stripping to nothing but a light robe, he knelt on his prayer mat and began reciting his favorite sutra as he waiting for the effect to hit.

It didn't take long. His near-empty stomach made the process far faster than normal.

His skin tingled, pleasantly, and his thoughts slowed. Every word his lips formed resonated through him as his consciousness detached from his body.

He was still aware of every sensation, but they were distant and manageable.

His body barely felt like his; it was merely a vessel. A vessel with a thousand expectation placed upon it. The way he moved and spoke had been scrutinized since he was a child. Some saw him as a shadow of his mother; others as the carrier of his fathers sins. The only time he was truly himself was when he was alone with the Holy Mother.

He lifted his hands, fingers dancing through the air as he transcribed the words he spoke in the air in front of him.

Everything distorted, patterns dancing across his vision. The lights seemed to glow brighter and the smell of incense grew stronger as his fingers left trails behind them as they moved. The symbols he drew floated before his eyes, his prayer taking up all of his senses.

His conscious grew still lighter, and the movement of his hands and mouth faded into the background.

Words left him, and all that remained was a dark spinning cloud of emotion. Anger, grief, and fear fought inside him, each begging to be let out.

One by one, he let the emotions flow through and out of him. Each one caused his body to tense and then relax again. Distantly, he felt tears falling down his cheeks.

The cloud thinned as the sutra came to an end. Another night, Nahyuta might have started a second one, but there was no energy left in him. The needs of his body could not be ignored any longer. He dragged his uncooperative body through the process of preparing for bed, collapsing onto his mattress as soon as he was able.

His high was far from over. His mind stretched out, connections forming in a disorganized web. His thoughts strayed towards work, automatically searching for solutions to his never ending list of problems.

He wrenched his thoughts back. As tempting as the drugs made it seem, there was only turmoil in that direction.

Instead, Nahyuta turned his thoughts to his other major problem: Apollo Justice.

Heat throbbed between Nahyuta's legs as he ran his hands over his body pretending they belonged to Apollo. Strange patterns swum behind his eyelids as he closed his eyes and imagined what it would be like to bring Apollo into his bed.

It was all to easy see in his head, to feel the phantom sensation of Apollo on top of him showering him with attention. Apollo kissing him, hand wrapped around Nahyuta's cock. Apollo whimpering as Nahyuta touched him.

Nahyuta stroked himself slowly, luxuriating in the fantasy. There was no shame in his desire, but there was the constant bite of sadness.

All this could ever be was a fantasy. Apollo didn't love him, and Nahyuta had no hope that would ever change. The most he could hope for was to be allowed to stay by Apollo's side, sustaining himself with the scraps of physical contact Apollo allowed.

His lips moved, tracing the shape of Apollo's name over and over again, repeating it with the same reverence as a prayer.

The fantasy crested, his body shuddering as he came. Pleasure flowed through and out of him just like every other emotion, leaving him only with simple exhaustion. He spent his last vestige of strength of cleaning himself up before letting the exhaustion take him.

The last thoughts he had before losing consciousness were of falling asleep by Apollo's side.

Notes:

happy almost christmas to those who celebrate 🎉

Chapter 4: He Wasn't Lying, The Work Is Shit

When he arrived at the Temple the next morning, Klavier was sent to the records room in the basement. The temperature dropped precipitously as he descended the old stone stairs.

As he knocked on the door to the records room, he wondered who in their right mind would willingly work in such a cold, dark place. After a long enough pause that Klavier almost knocked again, the door swung open. Simon Blackquill filled the doorway.

He'd done little to change his appearance since getting out of prison. Even tied back, his hair puffed out past his shoulders making him seem far bigger than he actually was. There were circles under his eyes so dark they could be confused for bruises, but his gaze was sharp as a knife.

Klavier remembered Simon Blackquill from his time as a rookie prosecutor. They hadn't had much reason to interact, but the man and his long black coat cut a striking figure. He was hard to miss.

Blackquill had been quiet and withdrawn until his murder trial rocked the prosecutor's office. Relationships both professional and personal broke on the question of whether he'd always been off or if his sudden behavioral shift was suspicious.

The fresh wound of Phoenix Wright's evidence tampering scandal led Klavier to side with the cynics. It wasn't his proudest moment, but he could tell from one look at Blackquill's face that an apology was neither necessary nor wanted.

"I was told I could help with some of your paperwork," he said with a friendly smile.

"Who are you, again?" Blackquill asked, his face completely blank.

Klavier's smile faltered. There was no way Blackquill didn't remember him. Their equally infamous scandals had been a mere year apart. The "Twisted Samurai" was known for his mind games, and this had to be one them.

"Klavier Gavin, international prosecutor." Klavier extended his hand to shake.

"Blackquill." Blackquill bowed, ignoring Klavier's outstretched hand.

Klavier dropped his hand, not letting the smile fall from his face. "Can I come in?"

Blackquill huffed and moved out of the doorway. Klavier followed him into the room and Blackquill flopped into a cushy office chair that didn't match the rest of the furniture.

Thankfully the room was not as dark as the hallways leading to it. Sunlight filtered through ornate bars on several windows placed high in the walls. It wasn't enough to light the whole room, but Klavier noted Blackquill's chair was placed to perfectly catch one of the sunbeams. A large bird with a bandana around its neck rested on a perch next to him. Klavier instantly recognized the infamous courtroom hawk, Taka.

"Who did you offend so deeply that they relegated you to clink duty?" Blackquill leaned back, flicking his hair out of eyes.

"There are no Khurainese law books in English yet. A translation is in progress, but I won't be able to practice until it's done."

"Would it not be better for you to learn Khurainese?"

Blackquill's mouth twisted into a smirk, and Klavier's felt an uncharacteristic spike of anger. He covered it up with a laugh. There was no way he'd fall for such obvious bait.

"I've already started, but it's not an overnight process."

"You're about to get a lot of practice." Blackquill waved the paper he was currently working on at Klavier. "The previous Minster of Justice forced the courts to switch to English a few years ago, but all the records before that are in Khurainese."

"I'm not sure how much help I'll be then."

Blackquill's smirk grew, and he shook his head. "Don't worry. You won't need to understand much. I need someone to go through the trial records and pull out any cases where the defendant was accused of seditious activity or some other ludicrous crime invented by the previous regime to keep their citizens obedient. I've got a glossary of terms you need to look for."

"That's it?"

"I think that's plenty for your first day." Blackquill rummaged through his desk, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. "Prove you can handle that, and I'll give you something more substantial."

Klavier bit back a bitter response. He had far more legal experience than the man that'd spent seven years in jail. It had to be yet another one of Blackquill's stupid little mind games, and he was not going to fall for it.

"Where should I start?" Klavier said through gritted teeth as he took the paper.

The writing was so neat and precise Klavier almost thought it was a printout. He never would have guessed it'd been written by the scruffy man in front of him if not for a small doodle in the corner of the page: an attempt at a bird, a speech bubble coming out of it's beak with the word "Objection!" in the same uniform handwriting.

"The boxes on the table." Blackquill jerked his head towards the back of the room before returning to his work.

Klavier's eyes followed the motion and saw a table so laden with boxes that it bowed in the middle. Not for the first time since arriving in Khura'in, he wondered if he'd made a mistake.

---

Time ticked by slowly. Klavier's head ached as he struggled to pick out the right words. It was a constant battle to keep his eyes open and focused.

The only thing keep him awake and sane was the music flowing through his ears. Occasionally, he shot a glance at Blackquill, baffled at the man's ability to do work without headphones.

Lamoirir's gentle voice kept him from tearing his hair out as the pile of illegitimate cases grew and grew. She'd stepped away from music after their last concert, just like him. He often thought of reaching out to her, offering another chance at collaboration. The last time they'd talked, she'd told him that she didn't blame him for Daryan's actions, but he couldn't overcome the feeling of guilt.

His fingers tapped guitar chords against the underside of the table as he struggled to read messy handwriting in a language he barely understood. Deciding the charge looked close enough to the word for conspiracy, he slipped it into the nearly full box of bogus cases.

Closing his eyes, he gave himself a moment to relax as Lamoirir's voice swelled over a complicated bridge.

His moment of peace was shattered by the door swinging open.

He turned to see a man wearing a military uniform and a goofy grin burst into the room.

"How's it going, BBQ?"

Blackquill glared at the man, to no effect. "We have help today."

"I heard!" The man bounded over Klavier. He grabbed Klavier's hand, shaking it enthusiastically enough to rock Klavier's whole body. "I'm Datz! Datz Are'bal, and I'm in charge down here."

Klavier delicately extracted his hand from the crushing grip. "Klavier Gavin; Apollo told me about you."

"Oh?" The man's grin somehow grew even bigger, taking over his whole face. "Hopefully, only good things!"

"He said you've know each other since he was a boy."

"Ever since he was a baby, actually! I helped raise him and Yuty."

"Yuty?"

Datz paused, a guilty look briefly passing over his face before his smile returned. "I guess I should call him 'Prosecutor Sahdmadhi' now. It's hard to break the habit."

"Prosecutor Sadhmadhi and Apollo grew up together?"

The man laughed, rather rudely, in Klavier's face. "You didn't know they were brothers?"

"Brothers?"

Klavier's mind churned slowly. Had he somehow misinterpreted everything about Apollo and Nahyuta's relationship?

"Like brothers." Blackquill interrupted from across the room without looking up from his work. "Childhood friends are often called brothers in Khura'in."

Disappointment hit Klavier harder than he expected.

"Why does everyone gotta correct me these days?" Datz pouted.

Blackquill looked up just long enough to make eye contact with Klavier, a moment of understanding passing between them.

"You had me thinking Apollo was secretly a prince for a second there." Klavier laughed and clapped Datz on the shoulder.

Datz accepted the answer, changing gears without a pause. "It's lunch time, Psyche-Out made me promise to make sure this one eats," he said gesturing back at Blackquill.

"Psyche-out?" Klavier's patience was quickly running thin as his sluggish brain struggled to place the constant nicknames.

"Cykes-dono." Blackquill stood, rolling his shoulders stiffly. "I've told him many times I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself, but he never seems to hear."

Datz was, in fact, not listening. He rummaged in his numerous pockets, pulling out an apple and a very large knife.

Peeling the fruit without looking at it, Datz whistled a short tune. Klavier watched, transfixed as the peel fell the ground in one long spiral in a matter of seconds.

"To tide you over." Datz handed Klavier the perfectly peeled fruit. "I'm headed to the bazaar, anything specific you want?"

"I haven't had a chance to check out the options." Klavier took a bite of the apple. His stomach gurgled as he chewed.

"Not a picky eater, are you?"

"Not at all."

"Perfect!" Datz turned on his heel and exited the room as quickly as he entered.

Blackquill huffed and collapsed back in his chair.

"He's… in charge?" Klavier asked before taking another bite of the apple.

"He was Dhurke's right-hand man and the only person to successfully break out of the most secure prison in the country. I don't recommend underestimating him."

"Wasn't planning to." Klavier wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "But if he's in charge, shouldn't I report to him?"

"He handles the people; we handle the paperwork."

Klavier opened his mouth, but Blackquill cut him off before he could say anything.

"He has more than enough help on the people side already."

Klaiver sighed deeply and fell back into his chair.

"You can take a break anytime you want, you know?" Blackquill turned his chair to scratch Taka under his chin. The bird made a low trill and leaned into his fingers.

"I don't want to seem lazy." Klavier yawned.

"No one has ever thought that about you." Blackquill smiled, petting Taka's head gently.

"So, you do remember me?" Klavier pointed an accusatory finger a the man.

"I remember a bratty teenager with an almost compulsive need to impress everyone he met."

Klavier bit into the apple roughly, anger boiling under his skin.

"Yeah, well, I remember a weird loner with a stupid coat and no friends," he said through a mouthful of fruit.

Blackquill turned back towards him, grinning like Klavier had passed some inscrutable test.

"You're the definition of an overachiever, Gavin-dono. Anyone that's accused you of being lazy was playing you for a fool."

Klavier had to disagree. He'd been called lazy many times in his life. Many people had accused him of half-assing one or both of his careers. Prosecutors treated his tours like a vacation, and the music industry openly told him trials were an inconvenience.

Blackquill's eyes stuck on him, keeping Klavier from saying anything. Any rebuttal would have to be airtight, and the more examples Klavier thought of, the sillier they all seemed.

He was dangerously close to accepting that Blackquill might be right; he'd been played for a fool far too many times. People talked down to him because they were petty and wanted to drag him down to their level. That didn't stop him from falling for it every time.

"I guess I'll just take the rest of the day off then," Klavier joked.

Blackquill nodded seriously. "I was going to suggest exactly that. Take a walk after lunch; check out the area."

"I'll do that, then." Klavier turned away from Blackquill on the pretense of finishing his apple.

He heard Blackquill's chair turn and felt the man's attention move away from him. Relief flowed through his tired, stiff body, and the prospect of food and fresh air soothed his aching head.

He would need to develop stamina for this work, but at least, they were being gentle with him for now.

Chapter 5: That One Time Apollo Met The Holy Mother

Klavier was bored. He was more than bored: boredom had seeped into every aspect of his life, and he was itching for something to do.

He'd been in Khura'in a week, or maybe two, he'd already lost track of the days. He wasn't handling any cases, so all he did was eat, sleep, and do paperwork. His Khurainese progressed quickly at first, but predictably stalled at the point where he could parse documents, but not casual conversations.

As much as he wanted to practice, the mind-numbing work drained his energy and left him collapsing in bed every night instead of socializing. He even struggled to get through the files on Wright and Apollo's time in Khura'in, his eyes growing heavy whenever he tried to make progress.

He took every opportunity to do something other than read files, every opportunity to test his shaky Khurainese with strangers. No task, no matter how tedious, was better than collating a mountain of injustices.

Klavier needed something new. A new case, a new song — anything to stave off the tedium.

His empty guitar case mocked him every time his fingers itched to create something. His guitars were all back in America, and he couldn't practice law yet. The tedium threatened to consume him.

His only solace was lunch. Datz always got them food and brought along anyone he stumbled across on the way. There were never less than five people, and they always spoke to each other in Khurainese, forcing Klavier to take a back seat. He found he liked it, even when he was too tired to follow the conversation. Understanding the words was secondary to the warmth of being around friendly people.

At least, it was when it was people Klavier didn't know. When Apollo finally got roped in, Klavier was cursing his lack of knowledge.

Klavier could hear the difference in Apollo's Khurainese, the way his pace slowed on certain topics, the occasional English phrase thrown in odd places, the frown when someone corrected him.

The conversation moved between plans for an upcoming festival and arguments about food. Apollo kept mostly on the side of the conversation, sitting on the opposite side of the gathering to Klavier.

Nahyuta was at the man's side, eyes glued to his phone. His arm kept brushing against Apollo's shoulder, and it made Klavier so jealous he couldn't even enjoy his food.

He couldn't focus on the conversation around him. All he could see was the way Apollo occasionally nudged Nahyuta, whispering jokes that made the man look up from his work just long enough to chuckle softly.

Klavier knew he was staring, but it didn't matter. Apollo didn't notice.

Nahyuta bit into a peach, too focused on his phone to notice the juice left dripping from lips. Klavier's eyes followed a drop as it made it's way down to Nahyuta's chin. Something other than jealousy stirred in his chest.

Before he could parse it, Apollo looked over at Nahyuta, nudging him expectantly. Nahyuta glanced up from his phone as Apollo leaned towards the peach.

Nahyuta moved as if to hand the fruit to him, but Apollo took the offering with his mouth. His eyes closed as his teeth sunk into the fruit, his hand on Nahyuta's thigh.

Nahyuta tensed, pink rising in his cheeks as Apollo turned away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Jumping right back into the conversation, Apollo seemed completely unaware of the effect he'd just had on the man next to him.

Nahyuta's fingers dug into the peach, juice dribbling down his fingers to his wrist.

Klavier tasted copper as he studied Nahyuta's shocked expression. It was a disgusting display, mocking Klavier to his face, and it hadn't even been intentional.

Raised voices brought Klavier back to the conversation. Apollo and Datz were going back and forth, Datz's tone teasing and Apollo's annoyed.

Datz danced over to Apollo, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Apollo waved him away, swearing harshly. Datz laughed and moved his attention to Nahyuta.

Taking a napkin to Nahyuta's face, Datz tried to wipe the juice off the man's mouth, fussing over him in an exaggerated tone. Nahyuta's regal poise vanished. He grimaced like a petulant teenager, pulling away and swatting at Datz ineffectually. Datz laughed and continued to bother him until Nahyuta acquiesced with an exasperated sigh.

Once his face had been cleaned, Nahyuta made a pointed comment about the Holy Mother in Apollo's direction.

The tactic worked. Datz switched his attention back to Apollo, the man wilting as Datz talked far too fast for Klavier to follow.

Datz turned, his eyes landing on Klavier, and his smile grew even bigger. Switching to English, he bounded over to Klavier.

"Hey, did you know my man AJ over there met the Holy Mother?"

Klavier frowned, not wanting to seem rude, but highly skeptical that Apollo was that level of religious.

"Do you really need to tell everyone this story?" Apollo groaned, rubbing his face.

"Getting a direct mission for the Holy Mother herself is a big deal. You should be proud of it."

"I was seven and on drugs. That's it, that's the whole story." Apollo leaned back with a resigned sigh.

"That's young," Klavier laughed nervously. He hadn't expected Apollo to be the type to do drugs. His view of the man felt more incomplete every day.

"Oh, yeah," Datz cut in, "Kids are absolutely not supposed to be touching that stuff, but AJ was a devious little thing and got into the stash when no one was looking."

"I was curious." Apollo shrugged, his cheeks glowing pink. "Most kids sneak a taste at some point."

"Most kids sneak a bite, not a whole bun." Datz laughed, and Apollo's face grew even pinker.

"It tasted really good, but then it sent me on a really intense trip that felt like it lasted years, and I haven't touched the stuff since."

"You should give it another chance, just remember to start with a small piece." Nahyuta suggested, so quietly Klavier wasn't sure he'd heard right.

Apollo shrugged. "Weed does the job for me, I'm not interested in messing with a winning formula."

The casualness of the conversation made Klavier think back through the thousands of cases he'd already processed. There hadn't been a single drug related charge. He'd chalked it up to coincidence or a quirk of the filing system; it hadn't occurred to him that drugs wouldn't be criminalized in the first place.

That intrigued him. He'd been forced to be tragically straightedge because getting caught with anything 'illegal' would have been a nuclear missile to the the whole band's reputation.

It was silly in retrospect; murder was far worse for their reputation.

"You're terrible at telling this story." Datz sighed. "We were up all night scared for this kid, but when he woke up he very solemnly told us he was fine because he'd been with the Holy Mother the whole time, and she'd given him a mission."

"It wasn't a mission." Apollo groaned, rubbing his temples.

"You did call it a mission," Nahyuta interjected quietly.

Apollo shot Nahyuta a betrayed glare.

"What was it?" Klavier leaned in, his curiosity thoroughly peaked.

"It was a vision of who I was going to become." Apollo tensed, looking into the distance with an unreadable expression.

"Was it accurate?" Klavier was suddenly hyper aware of everyone in the room. This was not a private conversation; he couldn't ask the questions he wanted to ask.

"I made it accurate." A smile played on Apollo's lips. "I guess that was a sort of mission."

Klavier's heart rose in his throat. He wanted so badly to push at the point; he was so close to confirmation.

He felt Nahyuta's gaze on him. Suspicion swirled in the man's deep green eyes as he sat poised to intercede on Apollo's behalf.

"Can't deny it changed you though." Datz ruffled Apollo's hair, oblivious to the tension around him. "You went on that journey a sweet kid, came back a grumpy old man."

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before." Apollo grimaced and stood up. "I should get back to work."

He moved towards the door, stopping with his hand on the handle. He called back over his shoulder. "Oh, Klavier. Athena's coming to visit in a few weeks. She'll text you at some point to ask if there's anything you want that we can't get here."

"I wouldn't want to inconvenience the Fraulein."

"She will weep tears of joy if you accept her offer, just humor her." Apollo's voice tone was dry, but fond as he left the room.

Klavier mulled over the suggestion. The rest of his luggage had arrived, and he didn't need anything else for work. What he needed was something to do.

He also wanted to pick something that would make feel Athena feel valued.

"I should return as well." Nahyuta looked at his phone again.

Datz placed his hands firmly on Nahyuta's shoulders, forcing him to stay seated. He plucked the phone out of Nahyuta's hand.

"Is the temple on fire, Yuty?"

Nahyuta swiped at the phone, but Datz kept it out of reach easily.

"No," Nahyuta admitted with a huff, "but it's not out of the realm of possibility if I don't deal with this."

"It can wait fifteen minutes. It's not a lunch break if you're working the whole time."

Nahyuta gripped his prayer beads tightly, his face twisting in anger.

"I made a promise," Datz said, suddenly serious.

Nahyuta's anger faded leaving only exhaustion. His shoulders slumped, and he looked down at the tattoo on his palm.

He didn't look like a prince as tears welled in his tired eyes. Stripped of his mask of serenity, he looked scared and small and heartbreakingly beautiful. He leaned into Datz's touch, closing his eyes and breathing deep.

The conversation picked up, everyone turning away, politely ignoring Nahyuta's state. Klavier struggled to pull his eyes away as something sharp tugged at his heart.

Kristoph had never talked to him like that. Kristoph teased his little brother, often, but his sharp words felt like worlds away from Datz's actions. Kristoph didn't tell him to relax; Klavier always needed to work harder.

A song formed in Klavier head, a melancholic melody underneath hyperbolic poetry about yearning for the nostalgia of strangers. He pulled out a notebook, scribbling a rough melody out.

It'd been months since a song had come to him so easily. He would need to work on the lyrics — they were far too sappy for his style —, and the melody would have to be sped up. Ballads simply didn't sell as well.

Relief flowed through him as his pencil skated over the page. Klavier Gavin had found a way out of the tedium in the strangest of places.

 

Chapter 6: Intimacy and Vulnerability

Work stretched out in front of Nahyuta. He worked and worked and turned around to find there was more to work than when he started. His body ached with exhaustion, and people begged him to slow down and take a break, but every time he took a moment to breathe, things got worse.

There was more bad news flashing on his phone screen as it sat on his desk among a hundred important documents. Only the first line was visible — the words 'monarchist' and 'attack' made his chest tighten. Everything in him screamed to ignore it, but he knew he couldn't.

The new faction of "rebels" calling themselves Monarchists were clamoring for a return to status quo. A small group compared to the scope of the rebellion Nahyuta grew up in, and far less competent.

He'd had the good fortune to have grown up around people that knew the lies of Queen, but not everyone had been so lucky. There was no telling how many people had genuinely believed in her. Lese-majesty was a crime; even staunch rebels defaulted to praise when asked.

He always assumed everyone had known the truth, but the price of being wrong was unthinkable. He'd extensively studied the rebellions of other countries and knew far too well that many so-called revolutions were no more than minor setbacks to authoritarian governments.

Hands shaking, he opened the full message. His head fogged as he skimmed the text, searching for words he hoped he wouldn't see.

No causalities, only minor injuries.

He let out a long breath. There would be no funerals to plan. No grieving families to reassure.

It wasn't good news, not by a long shot, but it could be far worse.

His door flew open. Apollo stormed in, anger pouring off him in waves.

"Did you hear?" he asked, pacing back and forth in front of Nahyuta's desk. "They fucking attacked Mrs. Inmee. She's fine, thank the Holy Mother, but her baby was in the other room. What if—?"

Apollo tensed, his jaw going tight. His screwed his eyes closed, hands balled into shaky fists at his sides.

"I'm Apollo Justice and I'm fine!"

Nahyuta waited patiently for Apollo to complete his calming ritual. He didn't understand it himself, but it always worked.

"This isn't the first time she's put herself in danger for the cause," Nahyuta smiled sadly. "She won't back down."

"I'm not asking her to stop! I'm asking those freaks quit making everything worse for everyone!" Apollo waved his arms wildly, far angrier than he would normally allow himself. The open anger was a sign of trust; he knew Nahyuta would take the venting in stride.

"They were fed a lie their whole life," Nahyuta tried to rationalize, tried to push down his own anger. "Scared people always fight change."

"I don't give a shit!"

Apollo's fist slammed onto Nahyuta's desk hard enough scatter the papers, several of them floating off the desk to the ground.

Regret immediately flooded Apollo's face. "Sorry, Yuta. You're way closer to her. I should be comforting you."

He dropped to his knees, cleaning up the fallen pages. Nahyuta followed his lead.

Nahyuta's heart thrummed at sound of his childhood nickname. Apollo and Datz were the only ones he'd allowed to use anything but his full name. Of the two of them, Apollo was the only one considerate enough to only do so in private.

The privacy turned the nickname from an embarrassing frustration to a precious secret, proof that there was something between the two of them that no one else had.

None of the nicknames Nahyuta tried for Apollo stuck; it was as one-sided as Nahyuta's devotion towards the man.

"It's fine. Allow yourself to be angry." Nahyuta extended a hand to take the paper's Apollo had gathered. Their fingers brushed as Apollo handed over his collection.

Nahyuta swallowed as he laid them out, putting them back where they belonged one by one.

Apollo leaned on the desk, palms flat on the surface.

"I'm Apollo Justice and I'm fine! I'm Apollo Justice and I'm fine! I'm Apollo Justice and I'm fine!" he repeated to himself.

"The damage Ga'ran has done to our country can't be undone overnight," Nahyuta said as he worked.

"Our?" Apollo hunched, his shoulders going taut.

"Of course." Pain shot through Nahyuta's chest at the idea that Apollo didn't consider Khura'in home. He covered the hurt with a calm smile. "Surely you haven't forgotten that you grew up here."

Apollo slumped, guilt playing over his face. "Yeah, but I left, didn't I?"

"Dhurke sent you to America because it was the safest place for you."

"He didn't send you away." Apollo's eyes bored into the ground, his fingers dug into the surface of the desk.

Emotion swelled in Nahyuta's chest, and he pushed it away. There was no arguing with fate, no matter how unfair she was.The Holy Mother had put him on earth for a reason, and as much as he resented the expectation, he couldn't escape it.

"If you hadn't learned law in America, you wouldn't have been able to save me from Ga'ran."

Apollo froze, several emotions playing over his face. His mouth opened and closed several times.

Nahyuta watched Apollo's jaw clench, his brows furrow, and his stance stiffen. Like all things Apollo, he would need to be more gentle to get the man to open up.

"I needed to be here; you needed to be in America. One without the other would have ended in failure."

Apollo frowned even deeper. "I'm not a savior." His voice was uncharacteristically quiet.

Nahyuta swallowed the response he wanted to make, letting Apollo figure out his words.

"I'm just some guy." Apollo sighed, his shoulders sagging. "I'm just some guy that happened to be in the right place at the right time."

Nahyuta took a moment to mull over the words. He disagreed, firmly. Any one could be in the right place at the right time — what mattered was if they took up the call.

There was no easy way to convince Apollo of that. No way to explain the years Nahyuta had been trapped within the gilded bars of the palace watching people reject the call and fail to save him and his family.

Wright had understood. It was obvious in his eyes that he knew the weight of his actions. He didn't expect anything in return — laughed at the very idea —, but his quiet acceptance of his importance was enough.

Apollo refused to accept his own importance. Now, the man stood in front of Nahyuta so full of tension that he feared Apollo would break.

Nahyuta approached the man he loved, placing his hands on Apollo's shoulders. They felt hard as rocks under his fingers, and without thinking, he began massaging the stiff muscle.

Apollo let out a loud groan, his shoulder's sagging. "Holy Mother! What the fuck is that?"

Nahyuta pressed his thumb in deep, slow circles, and Apollo made an even louder, lewder noise. Nahyuta's blood rushed south, but he kept his composure.

"It's remarkable how much you carry around every day," Nahyuta mused. "It'll take weeks to rub all this out."

"Don't waste your time." Apollo waved Nahyuta away, but didn't move. "It'll come back the next week."

"I don't consider it a waste." Nahyuta's fingers moved lower, thumbs pressing between Apollo's shoulder blades.

Apollo leaned into the touch, rubbing against Nahyuta's hand. Nahyuta could feel every layer of clothing: Apollo's vest, his shirt, and the sports bra he used to keep his chest flat. Anyone else would be slapped away long before got close enough to notice. Even in his lowest moment, Nahyuta could rely on the knowledge that he alone commanded this level of trust.

He alone was allowed to touch Apollo this much. His heart raced at the thought, his brain fogging with desire to touch even more. His mind filled with thoughts of touching Apollo more, harder, or pressing him into bed and pulling off his clothes and wringing every last ounce of tension out of him.

"You actually volunteering?" Apollo turned his head, squinting at Nahyuta with suspicion.

"Massage is just another type of meditation." Nahyuta half-lied. It wasn't a standard practice, but it was one he'd spent many a late night thinking about it. "Not to mention it's a perfect excuse to spend time with each other outside of work."

Apollo cheeks flushed, and he pulled away. "Oh, yeah, we're at work…" He rubbed the back of his neck stiffly.

"We could continue this later?" Nahyuta's heart thundered in his chest.

"I don't need that." Apollo stared at the ground, rubbing his bracelet.

"It's not about need." Nahyuta placed a gentle hand on Apollo's arm. "I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to do something."

"Promise?" Apollo's sharp eyes fixed on Nahyuta, searching his face for something.

"Let the Holy Mother be my witness." Nahyuta nodded.

Apollo relaxed, a small smile playing on his lips. "Alright, I'll be ready for you tonight."

Warmth bloomed in Nahyuta's chest, and he squeezed Apollo's arm for a brief moment before letting it drop. "Sounds lovely."

---

"I'm not super familiar with massages," Apollo sat on his bed, his back completely straight, shoulder's tight. "What does it entail with… with clothes?"

He looked down at his own hands and sadness grew in Nahyuta's heart.

"I can easily do it through clothes, but if you wanted to try the massage oil."

Nahyuta sat next to Apollo, pulling a small vial from his coat. Popping the stopper out, Nahyuta offer it for inspection. Apollo leaned in, sniffing curiously.

"That's really nice…" he mumbled.

"It's said to relax the muscles, help relieve aches."

Interest flashed in Apollo's eye, and pink tinged his cheeks. "But, I'd need to take off my shirt for it, right?"

Nahyuta nodded. Hope tugged at his chest. "I won't look," he promised, "Only what you're comfortable with."

Apollo reached into his beside table drawer, pulling out a lighter and a joint.

Nahyuta watched nervously as Apollo lit it and took a long pull. The man's expression remained calm, but his hands shook.

"Promise you won't freak out," Apollo muttered, rolling the joint between his fingers.

"Why would I?"

Nahyuta gripped his prayers beads. He'd anticipated Apollo's insecurity with his chest, but there was obviously something else going on.

Apollo grimaced. He took another drag, a distant look in his eyes.

"I got into an accident in America."

"Ah…"

They sat in silence for a long moment.

With a sigh, Apollo offered the joint to Nahyuta.

Normally, Nahyuta didn't bother with smoking — the high wasn't worth the smell lingering on his clothes. But, it was Apollo offering, so Nahyuta couldn't say no.

He took the joint, his fingers lingering on Apollo's for as long as he dared.

He lifted the joint to his lips and inhaled. Acrid smoke irritated his throat as he let it flow out his nose.

Apollo hand came up to his chest, a grimace on his face. "Alright, turn around while I'm getting undressed."

Nahyuta turned around dutifully. He could hear the sound of Apollo's shirt falling to the ground, could feel the man shifting on the bed next to him. His heart beat unsteadily as the mattress behind him sunk under Apollo's body.

He inhaled more smoke, feeling the world soften around him even as his nerves rose. His prayers had been answered; he'd be able to touch Apollo, but he couldn't imagine what could be so bad to make Apollo act like this.

"I'm good." Apollo, hand brushed Nahyuta's arm, and the man's heart leapt into his throat.

Turning slowly, he tried not to stare too hard. Apollo's face was buried in his arms, his bare back on full display.

A gasp left Nahyuta's mouth, and he covered it with a hand.

Apollo's back was a constellation of scar tissue. There was a variety of marks — thin lines, deep gouges, long surgical scars — concentrated around his shoulders and snaking down his upper arms. Only a few inches of skin above his waistband remained unblemished.

"What happened?"

"A building fell on me."

"What?"

Apollo chuckled dryly. "Ceiling collapsed. I got trapped under the rubble. I don't wanna talk about it."

There was more to that story, but getting information out of Apollo was harder than getting blood from a stone. The coldness of his tone told Nahyuta that there was no hope of clarification that night.

Nahyuta took another drag of smoke, finding his own hands shaking now.

With his other hand, he touched a laceration across Apollo's shoulder blade. Apollo shivered under the touch.

"Does it hurt?"

Apollo's shoulders tightened. "Yeah."

Nahyuta jerked his hand away.

"Not like that." Apollo laughed, and propping himself up on a forearm, he reached for the joint. "Touching me doesn't hurt. The pain's…" Apollo searched for the word for several seconds before giving in and using English, "chronic."

Nahyuta handed it over. Lifting it to his lips, Apollo inhaled deeply.

Nahyuta's eyes stung, and he squeezed his eyes shut until the urge to cry subsided.

"How can I help?" He asked, his voice shaking.

"Massage helps some people. Don't know if it'll do anything for me." Apollo handed the joint back to Nahyuta.

Nahyuta inhaled the smoke one last time before putting it out in the ashtray on the bedside table. He prayed for calm as he positioned himself over Apollo's hips. He coated his fingers in the oil, waiting for it to warm before taking the plunge and placing his hands on Apollo. He started at Apollo's shoulders, tracing every scar, testing the muscle around them for any sign of stiffness.

Apollo responded vocally every time Nahyuta found another spot of tension, volume and pitch changing based on the severity.

Nahyuta's exploration moved down past his shoulder blades and following the curve of his spine. Apollo moaned and squirmed under him the whole time.

Heat rushed south, but Nahyuta pushed his arousal away. He would fulfill the needs of his body once he was alone — this was about something far more intimate. It was about trust; it was about service.

There was no single place to start with Apollo's back. It was more knot than muscle, even in the unscarred areas. So Nahyuta spread his attention out, working each spot for a short time.

He muttered a prayer under his breath, letting himself fall into a rhythm. Despite the cruelty of the circumstances, this was everything he'd been hoping for. Apollo under him, trusting him, relaxing for him.

Finding a large mass under Apollo's shoulder blade, Nahyuta began to work it.

Apollo went tight under him, a groan ripped from his throat.

Nahyuta paused, waiting for further direction.

"It's good pain there," Apollo said with a long sigh. "Go hard on it."

Nahyuta didn't need any more encouragement. He dug the meat of his palm into the spot.

Apollo whimpered and arched. Every press made him grunt louder.

Nahyuta's dedication melted into desire as he worked the sensitive spot harder and harder.

Apollo's body trembled, his voice raising to an embarrassing volume, and it was all Nahyuta could do not to keep his interest from becoming obvious. On the pretense of getting more leverage, he lifted his hips to make sure Apollo couldn't feel Nahyuta's hardness against his ass.

"That's enough," Apollo finally said, sinking into the mattress limply.

Nahyuta jerked his hands away.

"That was good," Apollo mumbled into the sheets. "I feel better now."

"I'm glad I could help."

Nahyuta trailed a hand down Apollo's spine from the nape of his neck to the waistband of his pants.

Apollo shivered.

"Is there anything else I can do you for?" Nahyuta mouth was dry as he pleaded to the Holy Mother to give him this. He didn't know what she could do, but she's told Apollo he was a boy — surely, she could tell him how deeply Nahyuta cared for him.

"You already done more than enough." Apollo said into the mattress.

His face remained covered as Nahyuta eased himself off the bed. He placed Apollo's shirt next to him with a sad smile. It was disappointing, but not surprising.

"Feel free to call on me when you are ready to do this again." Nahyuta made his way to the door.

"Yuta?"

He turned slowly. Apollo was sitting upright, hugging his shirt to his chest.

"If I get attacked, if I get captured, if… people find out…about me…" Apollo's fingers shook a he reached for the joint again. One hand held his shirt as he balanced the joint between his lips and relit it.

Fear stuck Nahyuta to his core. Like so many things, he had no answer. All the promises he wanted to make were lies.

"If you're afraid for your safety as a government official, we can discuss security."

"I can handle myself in a fight." Apollo scoffed. He took a long pull, letting the smoke slowly spill from his mouth. "I mean, what if people find out what I am? What if the monarchists use me to turn people against the whole government? What are we gonna do then?"

Nahyuta felt a thousand miles away from Apollo. He had no answers, no reassurance. He had hope, but Apollo had experience — experience that'd hardened him and shaped him into a deeply cynical man.

Nahyuta didn't know the details, didn't even know the overview. Apollo didn't talk about it.

"The only way for your secret to get out is if someone physically assaults you. Let's work to prevent that."

"Not the only way…" Apollo closed his eyes as he took a long drag. His brow furrowed as he slowly let it out.

Ice shot up Nahyuta's spine.

"Who else knows?"

Apollo shrugged. "A few people. At least one person with a grudge against me. That's enough, isn't it?"

"Who?"

Apollo chuckled. "Someone who's minding their own business for now. I fear if I speak of the devil he might appear."

"When did you become superstitious?"

"Not superstition." Apollo tapped his joint against the rim of the ashtray, looking into the distance. "Look, I don't want to do anything about it now, I just thought you should know."

"I understand," Nahyuta said, even though he didn't. He didn't understand what Apollo wanted from him; if not help nor reassurance, then what could he provide?

Chapter 7: What to Say and How to Say It

Klavier's stomach growled as he tapped his pencil on his notepad. Datz was late with lunch, and Klavier's hunger had gotten too distracting to continue work.

As he waited, he tried to get the song spinning in the back of his brain onto the paper. It wouldn't leave his head, but every attempt to capture it on paper failed.

He’d written and rewritten the lyrics ten times already, and they got worse every time.  

The song was sad— too sad. He wasn't against melancholy and certainly not against melodrama, but depression didn't sell records. Not only that, but songs had to be performed again and again to thousands of people. Performing depression sucked.

It'd annoyed Klavier, at first, the way that Daryan dismissed so many of his songs, but he'd learned to understand. Klavier was the artist, but Daryan was a businessman. He'd curated the best of Klavier's art and shown it to the right people at the right times. If Klavier had been left to his artistic whims, he would have been a novelty one-hit wonder.

Now he was a twelve album novelty. A novelty shattered by a bullet fired during what should have been the performance that allowed him to break out of that mold. Poetry too painfully ironic to put into song.

He couldn't write about that. He couldn't air his dirty laundry, his betrayal, his broken heart in front of an auditorium of strangers.

Technically, he was free to do that now, there was no band, no agent, no producers holding him back, but he didn't want to. Daryan had been right about certain things; Klavier had no interest in bringing himself to the verge of tears on stage.

But what did he want to perform? What did he want to say now that he could say anything?

The door opened, and Klavier looked up expectantly. Disappointment gurgled in his stomach and joy rose in his chest as Apollo came through the doorway carrying a box of files.

Dropping the box on Blackquill's desk with a loud thunk, Apollo let out a sharp breath, rubbing his shoulder with a frown.

"When did the Minister of Justice get demoted to a mere gopher?" Blackquill asked with smug grin.

"Ha-ha," Apollo said with no hint of amusement, "I needed to come down here anyway, so decided to bring the latest batch of files with me."

"Don't injure yourself on my behalf." Blackquill flipped the lid of the box open, flicking through the contents with mild interest. "Cykes-dono wouldn't let me hear the end of it."

"I can carry one box." Apollo rolled his shoulders and winced. "Have you seen Datz?"

"You know I haven't." Blackquill sighed. "He told me he had a special assignment today."

Apollo groaned and rubbed his face. "That's one way of phrasing it."

Klavier tucked his notebook in his jacket and sidled over to Blackquill's desk. "I could go look for him, if you want."

Even if he didn't go out to find Datz, he did need to go out to find food.

"I know where he is." Apollo grumbled. Anger simmered in his tired eyes.

Before Klaiver say could anything, there was a knock at the door.

Klavier's already bad mood grew worse as Apollo opened to door and Ema Skye walked in.

"'Sup Apollo, didn't expect you to find you down here," she said with a warm smile.

She scanned the room, her smile vanishing the moment she noticed Klaiver.

"Lunch not happening today?" She asked with a far colder tone.

"Datz is…" Apollo waved his hands. "Being a moron."

"Sounds rough, buddy." Ema plucked the pencil from behind her ear. "But, not why I'm here. The boss wants me to go around a confirm everyone's tattoos for the registry."

"The registry?" Klavier asked quietly.

Not quietly enough, going by Ema's sharp glare at his question.

"The tattoo registry. Khura'in doesn't keep records of people's faces, so instead, they record unique tattoos or scars to help identify bodies. Like dental records, ya'know?" She explained like she was talking to a child and not her former boss.

"That seems somewhat… inconvenient."

"It is." Apollo sighed, shoulders slumping. "But, that's tradition, and we can't possibly change tradition."

"It doesn't interfere with my work as much as you'd expect." Ema tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Tattoos were extremely important in forensics before fingerprinting and photography became widespread. Even now, they're often more reliable than eyewitness identification."

"Yeah, it's great for identifying corpses, but I can't ask everyone that enters a restricted area to strip and show their tats. Plus, you can use makeup to cover them up." Apollo rubbed his eyes.

"You can use makeup to change the way your face looks, too. But more importantly, none of that's my problem." Ema stuck her tongue out at Apollo. "You still got nothing, Justice?"

"My body is easy to identify." Apollo lifted his arm, tapping a dark, sunken scar peeking out from his rolled up sleeves.

Klavier didn't remember seeing it before, but he knew enough about scars to know it was relatively new — two years old at most.

He'd heard all the rumors about Apollo getting injured in the courthouse bombing, but he'd chalked up the alleged severity to salacious exaggeration. Surely, Apollo's injuries couldn't have been as serious as the rumors claimed if the man had been in court the next day.

"Fair." Ema sighed and made a note. "Blackquill, anything new?"

"No. Still just the one," Blackquill said.

"Wait! You have a tattoo?" Klavier asked incredulously.

"I was in prison for seven years," Blackquill said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And that means I should have just assumed?"

Ema snickered, and Klavier bitterly accepted defeat. One of them was a struggle to deal with; both was impossible.

"Please tell me you have something, pretty boy." Ema tapping the tip of her pencil on the notepad impatiently.

"No tattoos," Klavier said with a frown. He'd considered them a few times — his body was the perfect canvas for art —, but had never settled on a design.

"Piercings? Besides the obvious one."

"Nein. Not my style."

Apollo's hand went to his bracelet, and Klavier cursed himself internally. He couldn't let himself forget that Apollo would notice obvious lies. The key with him was to always avoid directly answering questions.

The truth was Klaiver loved the idea of piercings. He avoided them because he already got too many comments about "looking like a woman."

"Of fucking course not." Ema sighed. "Getting a something simple would make my job a lot easier, but in lieu of that, any notable scars?"

"Bit of a personal question, don't you think?" Klavier couldn't keep the venom out of his voice. "Especially in public."

Ema froze, looking genuinely guilty for a moment. "You wanna go talk somewhere private?" She asked quietly, tugging on her hair.

Apollo raised an eyebrow at Klavier's outburst, but didn't comment.

Klavier mentally scanned across his body. He'd been on puberty blockers early enough to not need top surgery. The only obvious scar was from his hysterectomy, but he feared the reason for the incision might be too obvious.

He'd been lucky enough to avoid serious injuries otherwise. There were some nicks on his hands from kitchen accidents and one unfortunate encounter with a broken guitar string, but none of them were particularly distinct.

Klavier looked over to Apollo, who was pointedly minding his own business. Maybe the scar being recognizable wasn't the worst thing. Despite his dislike of Ema as a person, he trusted her professionalism.

"No, it's… Fine. It's just in an odd spot." Klavier swallowed and slipped a thumb under his waistband, tugging it down just enough to show the thin line under his abdomen.

Ema, to her credit, remained entirely neutral.

"It's pretty faint, but it'll work," she mumbled as she made a note. "Looks about six inches long."

Klavier shrugged. "Sounds right; I didn't measure."

He risked a glance at the others. Blackquill was not paying even a little bit of attention, but Apollo was.

His eyes were glued to the scar — or perhaps, to the sliver of skin Klavier was putting on display. Klavier smirked and shifted to give Apollo a better view.

The movement shook Apollo from his thoughts. Pink rose in his cheeks, and he looked away pointedly.

"Cover up, slut," he muttered with a dismissive wave of his hand.

A familiar heat rose in Klavier's face. The same heat that always stained his cheeks red when a hot man was mean to him. Maybe it had been embarrassment once, but he'd learned to embrace it, revel in it.

It would be easy to push a few more of Apollo's buttons, to test the limits of his patience, to see just how mean he could get.

It would also be deeply inappropriate, both because of Apollo's obvious poor mood and the current audience. Klavier chided himself for even thinking about it, as he hiked his pants back up. Apollo stay pointedly focused on his phone as Klavier turned his attention back to Ema.

"Do you have a tattoo, Fraulein Detective?" Klavier asked.

Ema lit up.

"Oh yeah! Check out this shit."

She pulled a pen out of her pocket. She extended her forearm, pointing the pen at the seemingly unmarked skin of her underarm. With a press of the button at the top of the pen, black-light streamed over the skin.

Her arm lit up with a sketch of some chemistry formula.

"It's the skeleton formula for luminol," she announced with a smug grin.

Cliche, Klaiver thought, and basic. Ink that was only visibly under black light was interesting idea squandered by a boringly literal execution that was completely lacking in style.

"It suits you." Klavier smiled through his petty thoughts.

He had a certain affection for the scientist, even if that affection had a tendency to completely disappear whenever he had to actually interact with her. It wasn't exclusively her fault. He couldn't resist saying things he knew would rile her up every now and again.

Such as…

"But, doesn't it being invisible to the naked eye defeat the point of using it to identify you?"

Ema huffed and shoved the pen back into her pocket. "Nahyuta said the same thing. I got a small one on my back too."

"Yeah, I doesn't have to be anything major." Apollo said with a sigh, stretching stiffly. "You could put your logo somewhere unobtrusive."

The idea made Klavier's stomach sink. A few years ago, he'd have jumped at the idea. His music was his identity, but the G that hung around his neck didn't feel like his anymore. It was an outdated relic of a simpler time, certainly not something he wanted to be permanently marked with.

"I'd need to think about it." Klavier smiled (or tried to). "I've been considering a re-brand."

"Wooow, really?" Ema tucked her pencil behind her ear. "I could not care less. See you around, losers."

She turned on her heel, exiting the room.

"I think I'm growing on her," Klavier said once she was gone, only half-joking. She'd been far ruder to his face when she was working for him.

"Yeah —" Apollo rolled his shoulders, grimacing again. "—, like mold."

Klavier laughed at the lame joke because, unfortunately, everything that came out of Apollo's mouth charmed him — especially the lame stuff.

"By the way —" Klavier played with his hair. "— Any chance I can start practicing law sometime soon?"

Apollo groaned in exasperation that, for once, wasn't targeted at Klavier. "You can start once Nahyuta has finalized the English translations, which I am constantly reminding him to finish, but there's ten thousand fuckin' obligations he has to juggle, so it keeps falling through the cracks."

"Can't someone else handle the translation?"

"No." Apollo grimaced. "He's gotten some help from judges that've been around since before the DCA, but their law skills are two decades out of date. And I…" Apollo glared at the ground. "I should be the one doing it. It's literally my job, but my Khurainese isn't that good."

Klavier frowned. "Wasn't court already being held in English?"

"Uh, yeah, technically… but, it was a fucking mess. Inga forced the change with little warning. He didn't allow time to do anything right, so they ended up with a bunch of different conflicting translations, especially in regards to granular legal terminology. Nahyuta was playing the role of Ga'ran's lap dog at the time, so he couldn't say anything, but he hated every minute of it. So now, he's holding off until he has everything locked in, which… "

Apollo sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes.

"Is the correct choice, of course… but…"

"It's understandable." Klavier sighed as well, still extremely annoyed — made even more annoyed that the hold up was for a good reason. "Until then, I'm happy to help you with anything you need."

Apollo scoffed at Klavier's overtly flirtatious tone, but the glare he shot at Klavier felt softer than usual.

"You can't help yourself, can you?"

"Around you? Not at all."

Pink rose in Apollo's cheeks and he looked away, frowning. He rubbed his shoulder, wincing harshly.

"Justice-dono," Blackquill interrupted with a heavy sigh, "Cykes-dono has insisted that I ask you if you're still doing your exercises."

"Tell her yes." Apollo hand went to his bracelet, his frown deepening.

"She also told me to report back if you lie. Would you like to try again?"

Apollo glared at Blackquill. "Fine, tell her I've been falling behind a bit, but I'm doing my best."

Blackquill tilted his head, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"Gavin, how's your Khurainese?" Apollo changed the subject abruptly.

"[Improving slowly.]" Klavier said, the words still feeling stiff in his mouth, even though it got easier every day.

"[Able to follow basic directions?]"

"[Mostly.]"

Apollo nodded. "Good enough. When can you get away from this?"

"Now. I can pick up and go right now."

Blackquill chuckled under his breath at Klavier's obvious desperation.

"Even better." Apollo gestured for Klavier to follow him. "I'll explain on the way."

Klavier trailed after Apollo as they made their way out of the basement.

"You heard about the attack?" Apollo asked.

"Yes, terrible thing."

"Yeah…" Apollo frowned deeply, but didn't slow his pace as they left the temple.

The wind tugged Klavier's hair, and the sun warmed his skin as he fell into lock step next to Apollo. He debated saying more, but he remained unsure of what he could say.

"Datz is taking it hard," Apollo said, lowering his voice and stepping closer to Klavier — close enough for their shoulders to brush. "Mrs. Inmee is a pillar of the community, and he feels personally guilty that she got hurt at all. He won't leave her side unless he knows someone is watching out for her."

"I'm not sure I'm qualified for that." Klavier paused. "Usually, I'm the one that needs security."

Apollo turned back to him, brow furrowed. "I'm not asking for that." He sighed. "Look, there's no way they're going to come after her two days in a row. Security has never been tighter — plus, she kicked the ass of the last guy. You'll be fine. I just need someone that isn't busy to be by her side so Datz will do his actual job."

"Oh…" Klavier relaxed, and they began to walk again. "I can do that. I take it she doesn't speak English?"

Apollo shook his head. "She can understand it as long as you talk slow, but speaking it takes effort."

"A common problem."

Apollo nodded. He led Klavier up a series of stone steps winding up into the mountain. The wind grew sharper; the air, cooler.

"What exactly does she do?" Klavier asked.

"She's a…" Apollo rubbed his temples with a groan. "Oh, Holy Mother, I don't have time to explain this. She's a Ahni, which in English is… "nun"? But, not like a Christian nun. Treat her with the same respect you would a priest— or a bishop, maybe? Officially, she's never held a political position, but religion and politics is all the same around here."

"Not exactly ideal."

Apollo rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know, but the religious leaders weathered Ga'ran's purges far better than the politicians. They're our most stable block right now, and she's the best of them."

A small house came into view around the curve of the mountain. Klavier chewed on his lip as, and he lowered his voice.

"I've been wondering— surely, the plan isn't to continue the monarchy?"

Apollo's lips pressed together, and he rubbed the back of his neck. Klavier caught a glance of another scar, a thin, raised, white line, peeking out from under Apollo's collar.

"The plan is to survive; idealism can come later."

Klavier frowned deep.

Apollo sighed again, running his fingers through his hair. "Rayfa won't be able to ascend for a few years. It won't be an active issue until then. It's one of the few things we actually have time to deal with."

Klavier hummed with understanding. His attempts to charm Rayfa had completely stalled. The few times he saw her around the Temple, she got flustered at the sight of him and found a way to quickly leave. It was made all the more frustrating because he could tell that she wanted to talk to him, but found him intimidating.

They reached the house, and when Apollo knocked, Datz opened the door with a swaddled baby tucked against his side.

"[Hey, AJ! What ▇▇▇ you ▇▇▇ here?]"

The more Klavier's grasp on Khurainese grew, the more he realized that Datz was uniquely incomprehensible. His thick accent, frantic pace, and love of slang all combined to make the words coming out of his mouth sound like an entirely different language to the one Klavier was studying. Even other Khurainese people often asked him to repeat himself.

"[Did you forget about the ▇▇▇▇▇ you ▇▇▇▇ for today?]" Apollo asked sharply.

"[I ▇▇▇ them to ▇▇▇ those.]" Datz frowned.

"[I un▇▇▇ them. We need more staff right now.]"

As Klavier struggled to parse unfamiliar vocabulary, he found himself doubting his assertion that his Khurainese was good enough to hold a conversation, especially not with an important religious leader. Khurainese grammar was easy—similar to Japanese, which he was conversational in—, but so much of their language was based in an understanding of their religion that was far harder to grasp.

"[You should go.]" A woman appeared at Datz's side. Dark circles rested under kind eyes, and her smile was gentle as she placed a hand on Datz's arm. "[I'm fine.]"

"[But, who's ▇▇▇ the baby ▇▇▇ your hand ▇▇ ▇▇▇?]" Datz bounced said baby, making silly faces as it giggled uproariously.

"[Gavin can help.]" Apollo grabbed Klavier's jacket and dragged him up to the door.

"Oh!" Inmee pushed past Datz to greet Klavier, bowing politely. In the sunlight, Klavier could clearly see the bruises on her forehead and the bandages wrapped around her left hand. "Prosecutor Gavin. It is a pleasure to meet you. I have heard good things."

Her accent was thick, her words slow and deliberate.

"[You can speak Khurainese. He'll understand.]" Apollo interjected. "[Just go slow.]"

"[Nice to meet you. I hope I can be of assistance.]" Klavier bowed.

She covered her mouth with her bandaged hand as she laughed. "[Your Khurainese is sounding lovely already.]"

As she switched to her native tongue, she kept her words slow and enunciated with the cadence of someone accustomed to public speaking. Relief flooded through Klavier at how easy it was to understand her.

Apollo rolled his shoulders and winced. "[Come on, Datz. Get your shoes, and let's go.]"

"[You should rest for a moment; I can make tea.]" Inmee took Apollo's hand with a warm smile.

"[I'm sorry, but I'm very busy.]" Apollo glared at Datz. "[We're very busy. If you don't ▇▇ ▇ ▇▇, Nahyuta will have to ▇▇▇ for you, and he's already ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ in work.]"

Datz sighed and handed the baby off to Klavier, who tried very hard to pretend he knew what he was doing with an infant. The baby didn't even look old enough to sit up on its own, and luckily it didn't complain as he adjusted his grip.

"Careful with him," Datz said as he grabbed his boots. "That's the youngest member of the Defiant Dragons."

Inmee stifled a laugh as she darted back into the house. She returned moments later with an ornate staff.

"[Can you give this to Rayfa at the next Dance of Devotion?]"

She extended it towards Datz as he laced up his boots, but he didn't take it. His expression soured. "[You know I don't ▇▇▇ with ▇▇▇ anymore,]" he muttered.

Inmee didn't falter. Apollo rolled his eyes and grabbed the staff. "[I'll do it. Let's go.]"

Datz smiled tightly, ruffling the baby's thin curls. "[I'll be back ▇▇▇ to ▇▇▇ with ▇▇▇,]" he muttered.

Inmee's smile was warm and a little sad as she bowed. "[I'll make some ▇▇▇▇▇▇ for you.]"

Datz's smile matched hers before he turned and followed Apollo back down the mountain path.

As the two walked off, Inmee guided Klavier into her house. With the door closed, she took back the baby, easily cradling it with one arm.

"[This is Faitah, my son.]" She explained, nuzzling against the baby's forehead. "[Don't worry. I can take care of him with one hand.]"

"[How can I help?]" Klavier asked, shifting around awkwardly.

He scanned the house. One side of the room was dedicated to an elaborate altar for the Holy Mother, with multiple well-used prayer mats scattered across the floor.

The other side couldn't be described as anything less than a center of operations. The walls were covered with maps and charts pinned beside a large desk with several monitors. Notifications flashed at the corner of the screen, message after message coming faster than Klavier could follow.

As he struggled to parse the meaning behind it all, his stomach gurgled again, and he realized the mistake he'd made coming directly here without stopping for food.

"[Hungry?]" Inmee asked with a smile.

"[Datz usually gets lunch.]" Klavier admitted reluctantly.

"[I'll heat up some ▇▇▇▇.]"

"[You don't have to…]" Klavier's stomach twisted painfully even as he tried to politely decline.

Inmee shook her head with a laugh. "[It's no trouble; I'm also hungry.]"

Klavier nodded reluctantly. It was polite to accept offers like that, but he'd never quite gotten comfortable with it.

Inmee lowered her child into a small rocker by the entrance to her kitchen. Sitting above the cradle was a large picture of a bald man with a kind smile. Klavier recognized him as the high priest whose death had been reported as the spark that lit the powder keg of the revolution.

"[Sit. Relax. This will only take a few minutes.]"

Klavier smiled as she disappeared into the kitchen. Relaxing was the last thing on his mind. He wandered into Inmee's office, struggling to grasp the meaning of everything. The words were largely unfamiliar, but the maps were easy to understand. Colored pins connected locations to lists of names.

"[Impressive, isn't it?]" Inmee leaned in the kitchen doorway with a smile. "[The Defiant Dragons were more numerous than anyone knew. Everything was so secret, even those of us in the middle of it did not understand the full ▇▇▇▇.]"

"[What is this for?]" Klavier asked.

"[Finding all of our members. Rewarding those who served, helping those who sacrificed, and placing those who want to continue serving our cause.]"

"[That's…]" Klavier struggled for the words in his limited vocabulary. The more Inmee talked, the more obvious it was she was choosing simple words so he could understand. She did it effortlessly and without a hint of condescension. "[Very impressive.]"

She laughed softly. "[This wasn't all my doing. I've just begun easing back into work after ▇▇ ▇▇▇. I wouldn't be able to do so without help. I may have lost my husband, but there is a whole community helping me raise my son.]"

"[That's…]" Tears threatened to form in Klavier's eyes and he blinked them away. "[Wonderful.]"

There had been no community when Klavier's parents died. It was just him and Kristoph against the world. They'd been lucky, he'd always thought. Their inheritance had been enough to sustain them until Kristoph passed the bar exam, but there had always been something deeply lonely about their family home. It was too large, too quiet for just two boys.

The rest of their family hadn't helped at all. Kristoph never said why, but Klavier could guess. His good, Christian parents hadn't accepted his gender, why would distant family members be any better?

"[Sit.]" Inmee came back into the room, balancing a serving plate bearing two bowls and two cups with one hand.

Klavier hovered at her side as she delicately placed it on the small table straddling the line between shrine and office. The smell filled Klavier's nose and made his mouth water.

Inmee waited pointedly for him to sit before lowering herself to the ground. She handed him one of the bowls of soup with a warm smile. It was a thick, hearty soup, the chunks of meat and vegetables barely visible under the cloud of steam rolling off it.

"[May I ask?]" Inmee lifted a spoonful of soup to her lips, sipping it gently. "[Why come here?]"

Klavier hesitated, the true reason far too embarrassing to confess.

"[I…]" He stirred his soup as he chewed on his answer. "[I want to help.]"

"[Why help us in specific?]"

Klavier took a sip of the soup. It was thick, salty, and less scalding than he expected.

"[Apollo… Minister Justice… he's…]"

She laughed lightheartedly. "[You aren't the first to follow him here.]"

Her words only slightly soothed Klavier's insecurity.

"[I don't want to seem… insincere,]" he muttered as he stirred the soup slowly. Insincere was the wrong word, but he had no idea what the correct one would even be.

"[An insincere man would not be able to hold an entire conversation with me in Khurainese after less than a month living here.]" Inmee sipped her tea with a soft smile. "[I was not lying when I said I heard good things about you. Many people have told me you've been very ▇▇▇▇.]"

Klavier tried to appreciate the compliment, even if he didn't understand the meaning. His desire for clarification clashed with his reluctance to admit his lack of knowledge.

"[I do my best.]" He lifted another mouthful of soup to his mouth.

"[That is all the Holy Mother asks.]" Inmee looked over to her son, who was fast asleep in his rocker. "[Strive both for fulfillment and joy so that you may enter the twilight realm in peace.]"

Easier said than done, he thought. Obviously, not a sentiment he wanted to say out loud, but he struggled to find a response that wasn't negative.

"[You're young.]" Inmee laughed quietly. "[You have time to figure it out. In the meantime, there's some boxes I'd like to get from the attic. My husband's possessions were all stored on the top shelf that only he could reach. I think I'm ready to go through them. Once we're done with our food, we can start on that.]"

Chapter 8: The Thing About Tragic Backstories Is No One Wants To Talk About Them

There was a knock at the door, and Nahyuta looked up to see Athena Cykes standing in the doorway.  There was purple guitar case strapped to her back. Strange, Nahyuta remembered her being into sports, not music.

"I made it!" She announced, flashing a peace sign and a brilliant smile. "The flight was terrible, but now, it's over!"

"I'm glad you were able to arrive safely." Nahyuta smiled and waved her in. "How is the jet lag?"

"Jet lag doesn't bother me!" Athena said with a level of defensiveness that made Nahyuta doubt her assertion. "After I give Klavier his guitar, I'm going for a run. LA is so flat! I miss incline running."

"That's Prosecutor Gavin's guitar?" That certainly explained the vivid color, but not why Athena, of all people, had it.

"He asked me to bring it." Athena sniffed, almost on the verge of tears. "I'm honored that he trusts me so much."

"That is an honor." Nahyuta was only more confused. Was Klavier really friends with everyone except Apollo and Ema?

"Apollo made fun of me for caring so much just because it's one of Klavier's cheap 'backup' guitars, but he cares about all his instruments. Being entrusted with any of them is a big deal!"

Jealousy tugged at Nahyuta's chest as he nodded in agreement. Klavier had barely been in Khura'in a month, but he was already everywhere. At every turn, Nahyuta found people telling him how helpful and kind Klavier was. His very presence made people work harder; his friendly demeanor could disarm any argument.

The English law book sat on Nahyuta's desk, almost done. It'd been almost done for far too long. The reasons he held off were more complicated than he wanted to admit.

The issue wasn't entirely about Klaiver himself; it was what he represented. He would be the first foreigner handed the keys to the new system, but certainly not the last. Nahyuta had seen firsthand how quickly things fell apart the moment you let outsiders in.

Inga switching the courts to English had allowed a flood of opportunistic, power-hungry foreigners in with the express purpose of collapsing an already rotten and gutted system, and it had worked like a charm.

The issue was never that they were outsiders, Nahyuta reminded himself, the system had rotted from the inside. In actuality, most help from outside Khura'in filled him with joy— it made his view of the world a little less cynical.

The problem lied with the opportunistic and the power-hungry. It would be unkind, but not inaccurate, to describe Klavier as opportunistic. He didn't seem hungry for power, but he was certainly hungry for something.

“What's bothering you, Prosecutor Sad Monk?” 

Nahyuta grimaced at the immature nickname, and Athena flinched.  

“Oh, sorry.” Athena did look genuinely sorry — far more sorry than she needed to be. “It’s a bad habit I picked up from Simon.” 

“Are you referring to Prosecutor Blackquill?” Nahyuta grabbed the chance to move the conversation away from himself and his complicated feelings.

Athena nodded cheerily, leaning the guitar against Nahyuta's desk and sitting herself across from him without so much as asking if he was busy (which he was).  

He couldn’t bring himself to tell her that. He’d had very little contact with her, but he knew that she was his best bet at getting more information about Apollo’s time in America. Despite Apollo’s eyes rolling every time he talked about her antics, there was an unquestionable warmth in his words.  

“Yes, yes, 'Prosecutor Blackquill'. I only call him that in the courtroom, though. I’ve known him since I was a little girl.” 

Athena’s immediately friendly tone should have felt presumptuous and rude, but Nahyuta couldn’t find it in himself to be offended. It was convenient.  

Nahyuta was hyper aware of all the things he didn't know about Apollo. The two of them had been so close once, but they were ripped apart, and since then, it’d been like a piece of Nahyuta was missing. Throughout everything, Nahyuta had felt the absence of that reassuring presence at his side — the boy with a smile as bright as the sun and a voice loud enough to cut through the noise.  

Apollo had changed so drastically in America. He was hard to read now — a product of hiding his past for so long, no doubt —, but that didn't make it any easier to accept.

“Prosecutor Blackquill doesn’t seem like a man that’d be good with kids,” Nahyuta said, trying his best to match Athena’s friendly tone.  

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” Athena giggled. “He’s a very funny guy, and he treats kids with just as much respect as adults.” 

“That’s not a lot of respect.” 

“But, it’s more than they get from most adults.” 

Nahyuta hummed as he processed that response. It was a compelling argument, which was hardly surprising given her occupation.   

“Speaking of kids,” Athena commented as she leaned on Nahyuta’s desk, kicking her feet lazily. “What was Apollo like as a kid?”

It was like a godsend. Nahyuta was quickly warming up to the seeming over-friendliness of Americans. As unnatural as it felt, it made things much faster.  

“He was adventurous,” Nahyuta said fondly, “and he always dragged me along, getting us both into trouble.” 

“Apollo? Trouble?” Athena giggled. “He’s such a stick in the mud now.” 

“It’s just different trouble,” Nahyuta said. His smile faltered as sadness rose in his chest.

“No!” Athena slammed on the table, and Nahyuta flinched. She winced and laughed guiltily. “Sorry, habit from court. But, stop that! I didn’t mean to make you sad. I want to hear about the happy memories!” 

Nahyuta swallowed and nodded. There were happy memories, many of them.  Dhurke had worked hard to shield the two of them from all the darkness around them.  

“He used to love the stars,” Nahyuta said.  

Athena stiffened. A tight laugh left her mouth. “Oh? Ever since he was a kid?” 

Nahyuta nodded, tilting his head. “Does he still?” 

Athena looked away, and her necklace flashed blue. “Finish your story first, please.” 

Nahyuta eyed her up. The girl was smart, but her face had a bad habit of showing every emotion plain as day. Her necklace undermined what little subtlety she was able to muster. He couldn't fathom how she was so comfortable putting her emotions on display like that.

“Apollo loved staying up late staring at the Khura’in sky.” Nahyuta turned away to look out the nearest window. “On particularly beautiful nights, he’d wake me up, and we’d sneak out of the house together. We’d stay out for hours, talking and mapping the constellations.” 

“Oh, that sounds wonderful.” Athena lit up. “Is that how he got you in trouble?” 

Nahyuta shook his head with his own fond laugh. “No, I never understood it, but Dhurke never seemed to catch us during those nights. We must have been terrible at sneaking.” 

Athena shot him a searing smile. “Never figured it out, did you?” 

Nahyuta frowned, his hand clenching in defensive anger.  

Athena’s smile softened. She leaned forward, hands clasped. “I have no proof, but knowing what I do about Dhurke, you absolutely woke him up. He let you sneak out! Probably thought it was cute!” 

Heat rushed to Nahyuta’s face, and anger rose in his chest. Then, like smoke, it dissipated.  

Athena was right.  

Dhurke… 

Tears sprang to Nahyuta’s eyes. He turned his gaze away, pretending to be adjusting his coat as he sent a prayer for his father, one of gratitude and understanding.  

Those moments alone with Apollo — the two of them pressed against each other to keep warm in the chill of night, giggling about how they pulled one over on the great Dhurke — were some of Nahyuta’s most prized memories. 

“Oh, shoot! I made it sad again.” Athena huffed and looked around as if searching for a change of subject. “Oh!” She collected her thoughts and continued with a smile. “I was going to also say that it’s really cool that Apollo always loved the stars. I knew he spent a lot of time at the space center when he was in school. I thought it was because of…” 

She trailed off with a guilty look on her face.  

“Because of what?” Nahyuta asked, leaning towards her.  

He was so close. So close to getting more information about Apollo. It was bad enough that the man himself was tight lipped; Athena clamming up as well would grind everything to a stop.  

“I don’t want to make things sad again,” Athena pouted.  

“Sadness and loss are inescapable parts of life.” Nahyuta sighed deeply. “We may wish to avoid them, but they shape us. Apollo knows what shaped me, he was shown that very thoroughly in court, but I don’t know what shaped him.” 

Athena smiled sadly and toyed with her earring. “I know that… I was going to talk about Clay.” 

“The material? Or a person?” Nahyuta was almost certain of the answer.  

“Person.” Athena fidgeted, looking into the distance. “Apollo’s first boyfriend.” 

“Oh.” 

It was all Nahyuta could say. He wasn’t sure what to say. He was relieved that Apollo had experienced love, jealous that he hadn’t been that first love, and dreading what would come next.  

“He was an astronaut,” Athena said and Nahyuta’s hand went to his prayer beads on instinct.  

Now, the jealousy was fully formed. 

Astronaut. Apollo’s first love had been an astronaut.  

Nahyuta couldn’t compete with that. He was a simple man of words and prayer; engineering was far beyond his skills.   

It was no wonder that Apollo showed no interest.  

“Or I guess he was going to be an astronaut,” Athena continued, seemingly unaware of Nahyuta’s turmoil. Or perhaps she was politely ignoring it. “I mean, he died before making it to space, but…” 

The rage left Nahyuta abruptly, a thick sensation of guilt taking its place. He held onto his beads tightly, struggling to keep himself from spiraling into worse emotions.  

“He died?" Nahyuta asked. “How?” 

“I don’t want to talk about that case!” Athena snapped. Nahyuta’s eyes dropped to her necklace, the cartoonish red face an unnecessary addition to the daggers she was glaring at him.  

“Wha–?” 

“Not yet, anyways,” Athena sighed and slumped onto the table, her necklace switching to blue, “I know you were asking about Apollo, but that case… It involved a lot of personal things for me, and no offense, I don’t know you that well yet.” 

Nahyuta nodded in understanding, and silence stretched between them. A tremor ran through Athena as she looked pensively at the table.  

“Let’s talk about something happy,” Nahyuta said, softly. He extended a hand to her. “Or perhaps bittersweet.” 

Athena swallowed and nodded, taking his hand. Her glove was surprisingly soft but he could feel the wires running under the fabric.  

“Let’s not talk about Clay’s death. I’d much rather hear about his life.” 

Athena swallowed and nodded. Clearing her throat, she smiled brightly, her necklace matching her expression.  “Right! Good idea! Apollo and Clay were very sweet. I never got to meet him in person, but Apollo loved talking about him. It was the easiest way to get him to open up. Clay was his first friend in America, and they spent all their time in the Cosmos Space Center. The staff knew them by name and helped Clay get into an astronaut training program.” 

“But, Apollo didn’t join him?” 

Athena nodded brightly. “Oh no, he told me he always wanted to be a lawyer. Space was a fun hobby for him, but he couldn't…"

She trailed off with a quizzical look. Her eyes searched Nahyuta's for something, but he couldn't quite place it. There was clearly another reason she was implying, but he didn't know the first thing about becoming an astronaut.

“I’m not surprised,” he said, leaning in to Athena conspiratorially. “He was always terrible at math.” 

“Oh! I know!” Athena huffed in affectionate annoyance. “He has to pull out his phone to figure out tip every time we go out! And he won’t accept me telling him the answer even though I am always right… most of the time.” 

Nahyuta laughed quietly, and Athena’s eyes shone. She reached across the desk to take Nahyuta’s hand in hers. “I’m so glad that he’s found you again. He was in such a dark place after losing Clay. I tried to help as much as I could, but…"

Athena's smile faltered and her necklace that had so briefly glowed green went back to blue.

"The way he smiled when he talked about Clay—oh, it was beautiful— and the things he'd say. He never said the word "love," but you could hear it in every word." Athena closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. "He doesn't smile like that anymore."

Pain wracked Nahyuta's chest. He'd never gotten to see Apollo smile like that, maybe he never would. His eyes burned and he closed them, steadying himself with a sutra.

"To be honest, I didn't just come here for a fun chat," Athena's hand squeezed Nahyuta's, "I wanted to ease into the serious stuff, but that doesn't seem to be working."

Nahyuta opened his eyes and studied Athena's face. Her eyes were suddenly sharp, expression stern.

"Has Apollo talked to you about his injuries at all?"

"Just recently," Nahyuta shifted forward on his seat, no longer bothering to hide his interest. "But, he didn't tell me what kind of accident it was."

"Accident?" Athena laughed coldly. "He called it fucking accident? God, he's annoying."

"It wasn't an accident?"

"I still don't want to talk about that case." Athena's jaw tightened and she looked away. "But, there are things you should know."

"Don't feel obligated…"

Nahyuta wondered if she could hear the unsteadiness of his heart under his polite words, if she realized how desperate he was for her to continue.

"It was a bomb. A bomb went off in the courtroom during the trial for Clay's murder." Athena faced twisted in anger, her body going taut. "Some dumb motherfucker decided to cover up an entirely unrelated murder by setting off a fucking bomb and hurting even more innocent people!"

Athena's hands shook as she pulled away from Nahyuta. She crossed her arms over her chest, glowering at the floor.

"The whole courtroom came crashing down around us, and Apollo's first instinct was to run right into the center of it to save my girlfriend— who he barely knew. It was the bravest thing I've ever seen."

Nahyuta was at a loss for words as Athena's expression darkened further.

"But, when he woke up in the hospital, he freaked out." Athena's eyes glazed over, a thousand yard stare that Nahyuta was, unfortunately, all too familiar with. "He kept insisting over and over again that he was fine. He didn't want the doctors to touch him, and the moment we weren't watching him, he left. He refused to go back to until Clay's murder was solved. None of us could stop him, so much was happening all at once."

Athena shrunk in on herself as the screen on her necklace flickered off.

"If only I'd said something sooner…"

Nahyuta pushed aside the maelstrom of emotions churning in his chest. He could process them after pulling Athena out of her flashback.

"I'm sure you did all you could." Nahyuta remained firm, but kind. "Everyone wishes they had reacted perfectly to an emergency. Hindsight is a tricky thing — don't let it devalue the important work you've done."

Athena nodded, her eyes were still distant, but her necklace flickered back on, immediately switching to a sad face. "You're right; I did what I could. I helped him, after — we helped. Mr. Wright, Trucy, and I all helped. The reason I'm telling you this — even though I hate talking about it — is that I need to make sure someone is helping him now. I can't stop him burning out from the other side of the planet."

"I've…"

Guilt stabbed through Nahyuta. Guilt was not a productive emotion, but it was one he had a lot of. He couldn't let himself get bogged down with all the things he wished he could have done better, all the lives he could have saved if he'd made the slightly better choice.

"It's not easy with him," Nahyuta said, "but I will do everything I can."

“And don’t forget to take more breaks yourself!" Athena wagged a finger at him, the smile on her face not reaching her eyes or changing the color of her necklace.  "Apollo tells me all the time that he's worried about you and how much you're taking on, but I know he isn't saying it to your face."

Nahyuta froze, unsure of what to say, how to respond, but she was already out the door before he could collect his thoughts.  

In the silence she left behind, Nahyuta emotions slammed into him. He recited a sutra in his mind. His fingers ran over his beads automatically. The words so familiar as to be white noise as he struggled to keep his thoughts in check.

The conversation made him angry, unusually so. Anger wasn't unusual; he was a prosecutor after all. He regularly felt rage during the course of his work. He felt rage when he thought about his father, thought about the revolution the man hadn't lived to see succeed. Rage at the unfairness of the system, the cowardice of all the people that'd propped Ga'ran up, the people that tried to continue her legacy after she was gone.

But, he wasn't sure what the source of his anger was now. He was shocked to hear that Apollo truly had found love in America and even more shocked to learn that love had been cut short in such a brutal way. It was unfair, to Apollo unquestionably, but also, to Nahyuta. Yet another dead end, yet another mystery. A man who could have told him everything about Apollo, but now, that man was gone, and the path to getting Apollo to open up had been boarded up.

Apollo didn't want to talk about anything. He clammed up every time someone tried to get close, tried to help.

The anger rose up through Nahyuta's chest threatening to choke him, and he turned his mind back to prayer. His mouth formed the words of his sutra as he centered himself again.

It was only human to feel that anger, but he couldn't let it consume him. It was far better to turn that energy outward.

He wasn't lost. Amongst all the darkness, Athena had given him one shining, joyous fact.

Apollo Justice still loved the stars.

Chapter 9: A Beautiful Work of Art Destroyed Callously

There were dark circles under Apollo's eyes as he looked up from his work. A stack of paper on either side and a laptop in front of him framed his far-too-pale face. Nahyuta couldn't be sure which was the complete pile and which was yet to process. Considering both stacks were so high as to seem in constant risk of tipping over, it didn't matter either way.

"We've got to talk about the security clearances," Apollo said, rubbing his face with a low groan. "I can't keep handling all this stuff personally because only the Minister of Justice can read them."

"It won't be a quick change, but until we can fix the problem, start putting aside any good examples of paperwork that needs to be declassified."

Nahyuta sat himself across from Apollo, trying to keep his nerves in check. All he was doing was asking a close friend to hang out. Nothing strange about that.

Apollo seemed entirely oblivious to Nahyuta's nerves. He stood and began packing the left stack of papers into a box.

"Come on, you know it's not that easy. The government has been using spirit channeling as an excuse to classify everything for generations. If it shows a face and full legal name, it's classified. Which is insane, but every time I so much as suggest we ease up on those restrictions someone shuts it down."

"It is a foundational rule," Nahyuta explained, not for the first time. They'd had the full argument several times before— and would have it again, later —, but he didn't want to be distracted from his mission.

He fidgeted and felt Apollo's eyes lock on him.

"Something wrong?" Apollo asked sharply.

As genuine worry collected behind Apollo's eyes, Nahyuta had bite back a laugh. It was more than ridiculous. He had the weight of an entire country on his shoulders, but the thing that made him most off balance was a single, frustrating man.

"You're working too hard."

Apollo laughed. He slumped down in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. "I suppose," he was grinning even as he winced, "but the work's gotta get done."

"It won't get done either if you end up burnt out."

Apollo's eyes narrowed, and he leaned towards Nahyuta with his ever-piercing stare.

"I see you talked to Athena."

"How'd you know?"

"You don't know what burnt out means." Apollo smirked, and Nahyuta's heart skipped beat. At least Apollo couldn't hear that tell.

"It's a serious condition," Nahyuta argued, stubborn to prove his (recent) knowledge. "Some of the articles I read—"

"Some?"

Apollo groaned and slammed his head onto his desk. Nahyuta looked at his feet like a castigated child. He realized his mistake a few seconds too late.

He really hadn't planned to read that many. He'd looked up the term so that he wouldn't sound ignorant when he repeated it. But once he started reading, he couldn't stop, just like always.

Apollo slowly lifted himself off his desk, rising to come around to Nahyuta's chair. His hands were soft as they cradled Nahyuta's face, gently lifting it until their gazes met.

"Now, Yuta," Apollo asked sternly, even as a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Why did you read a bunch of articles about the dangers of working too much instead of finishing the translations that would allow you— allow us— to massively lessen our workload?"

Nahyuta mouth turned up in a pout — despite his best efforts to stay neutral —, and his heart raced in his chest. It was ironic that the easiest way to get affection from Apollo was to be chastised by him. If only he was being chastised for something small, unimportant, and not on the way his inadequacies endangered the future of the whole country.

Apollo affectionate tone only made it worse. He should be angry.

"It's been a long time since I've gone on a good research binge," Nahyuta muttered.

"Do you know what would fucking fix that?!" Apollo shook Nahyuta's head just roughly enough to knock some of the hair in his braid loose.

Nahyuta pouted deeper, and Apollo let out a tired laugh as he mussed the hair further.

"Who is wasting time now?" Nahyuta waved Apollo away and began undoing his braid so he could fix the mess.

"Oh, don't start! I know you've got that shit down to a science."

It was true. Nahyuta's fingers moved through his hair without a thought, effortlessly pushing the loose strands back into place before restarting the braid. Apollo's eyes tracked the movements, a warm smile lighting up his exhausted face. It wasn't quite the same toothy, full-faced grin he'd worn when he did the same thing when they were kids, but made Nahyuta's heart twinge all the same.

"Regardless," Nahyuta muttered as the steady process of weaving his hair back into its proper shape relaxed his nerves, "Athena made a compelling argument."

"Yeah, she's right." Apollo sighed and glared at the remaining stack of papers on his desk, then at his watch. "So, when can you get the translations done?"

Nahyuta sighed as well, his eyes falling to the ground.

"Yuta, come on!" Apollo covered his face with his hand, letting out a muffled groan. "You don't want me burning out, that's fine. The single, best way to prevent that is to finish those fucking translations, so we don't have to spend so much of our damn time in court!"

"It will be done by the end of the week." Nahyuta swallowed the sudden lump in his throat as he forced himself to set his own deadline.

Apollo visibly relaxed, a smile tugging at his lips. "Good, that's good."

"You should take the rest of the day off," Nahyuta blurted out, desperate to get off the subject of his failure to finish important work. He kept his eyes on the hair running between his fingers, even though it was unnecessary.

Apollo's eyes narrowed; he leaned in towards Nahyuta. "Is something wrong? Was there another attack from those damn monarchists?"

"No, nothing so grim. It's just…" Nahyuta scrambled for a good excuse. "Athena is only here for a short time; I thought you might want to spend more time with her?"

Apollo sighed, taking a long moment to ponder before standing up. "Fine. I'll take it."

Nahyuta jumped up, not yet done with his braid, but not wanting Apollo to escape just yet. Braiding while walking was slower and a bit messier, but he'd mostly mastered it.

"Do you two have plans?" he asked as they walked into the hallway.

Apollo shrugged. "Not particularly. She's out climbing mountains for fun now, and I won't be joining her for any of that."

"There's a full moon tonight. Maybe she'd like to see the Khurainese sky."

Apollo tensed. His pace slowed, and he looked away. Nahyuta's mouth was dry, and his palms were sweaty, and he struggled to read the reaction. It was something like frustration in Apollo's eyes, or maybe pain.

"I… I don't know. It'll get pretty cold out there tonight. We're probably gonna stay in."

Nahyuta's heart sunk. His face twisted, but it didn't matter because Apollo wasn't looking at him. Pulling himself together, Nahyuta plastered a calm smile on his face.

"Maybe another time? You used to love the full moon."

Apollo froze in his tracks, not answering the question. Nahyuta looked in the direction of his blank stare, but there was nothing there but a blank wall.

In the silence between them, Nahyuta became aware of distant music. A beautiful voice floated through the air, coming from the garden.

"That can't be…"

Apollo moved like a man possessed towards the sound. Dread growing in his chest, Nahyuta followed him.

Following the music took them to the entrance of the lush gardens, Apollo's eyes scanning the area with laser focus.

Nahyuta kept his eyes on Apollo's face, searching for an explanation for the sudden fascination. His attention was rewarded when Apollo's trance broke abruptly.

A storm of emotions flashed across Apollo's face before pink rose in his cheeks and he turned away from the noise with a glare. Nahyuta pulled his eyes away from the man to look for the source himself.

Klavier Gavin sat under a tree, strumming a guitar and singing in an unfamiliar language. His eyes were closed, his posture relaxed, as his angelic voice rose and fell in gentle waves.

"It's not one of his songs," Apollo grumbled. "It was written by my favorite singer."

"He sings it well."

Nahyuta tried to smile even as ugly, angry jealousy rose in his chest. Apollo had never looked at him like that. Nahyuta pushed and pushed, doing everything he could to get even a scrap of Apollo's affection, but Apollo always pulled away, always redirected the conversation back to work and how much of it there was.

"Gavin's not untalented." Apollo sighed and rolled his eyes. "Trucy forced me to listen to his music all the time, and the ones that aren't about being a cop are… better than most pop … Don't tell him I said that."

"Why not tell him?"

Apollo frowned deeply. "Look… I can't tell him anything."

"You mean he won't listen?"

"No." Apollo rubbed his temples. "The problem is he will. It's… hard to explain."

Anger boiled under Nahyuta's skin as he reached the end of his braid. Apollo wasn't interested in Klavier; he'd made that clear many times. Fear still boiled under the anger. Fear that Apollo's stubborn rejection was nothing more than an act. Fear that Klavier's helpful presence would melt Apollo's stony exterior faster than Nahyuta gentle devotion. Worst, fear that Klavier truly was better for Apollo than Nahyuta could ever be.

The jealousy only deepened as Nahyuta turned back to watch Klavier's performance. The man's fingers danced across the guitar strings, and his head swayed with the melody.

He seemed entirely unaware that he had an audience, and yet, he was still able to command the attention of everyone around him. When Nahyuta was finally able to pull his eyes away, he noticed several people around the garden stopped where they stood, transfixed.

Swallowing his fear, Nahyuta tied the end of his hair and flicked it back over his shoulder. He forced his smile to stay put as he placed a hand on Apollo's arm, trying to gently guide him away. "Athena brought that for him; I didn't realize they were so close."

Apollo remained unmoved. "Oh, yeah, she wouldn't shut up about it. She's convinced she's on the verge of getting his trust."

"What could require more trust than handling his guitar?"

Apollo's lips pressed together. "It's about getting him to open up emotionally and shit. Athena's never met a stray she didn't want to adopt."

"Prosecutor Gavin is a stray?"

"Being born with a pedigree doesn't prevent someone from becoming a stray." Apollo's brow furrowed and sharp, hot anger flashed in his eyes.

Nahyuta looked over to Klavier. The man had stopped singing; his attention focused on Apollo, who pretended not to notice. Nahyuta hoped the man wouldn't realize he was the topic of their conversation (but there was also a petty part of him hoped the man would).

Klavier didn't look upset. A fond smile played on his lips as his soft gaze hung on Apollo. He was smitten, completely and utterly. Anyone could see that, even if the man pretended it was all playful flirtation. But, there was something even deeper in Klavier's eyes — there was desperation.

Seeing his own feelings for Apollo mirrored in Klavier's perfect face broke something in Nahyuta's chest. It was something like pain, something like desire.

"Why do you say that?" Nahyuta tore his eyes away, shoving the emotion back, all the way past the other emotions he put on the shelf to maybe feel one day, when he had the time.

Apollo flinched, his smile vanished only to be replaced with guilt.

"Read some tabloids if you want the gossip, but look at him, can't you see it?"

Nahyuta looked back over to Klavier. The man's smile had faded into suspicion as he did realize he was the topic of discussion. He rose to his feet, walking over, trying his best to look casual.

"See what?"

Apollo shook his head. "Not when he's coming over," he hissed under his breath. Switching very deliberately to English, he continued, "You should have seen him at Themis though. He was crying over a broken statue of himself. Total drama queen."

Klavier relaxed at Apollo's words. He sighed, shaking his head as he stopped in front of them.

"It was a beautiful work of art — destroyed callously. Of course I mourned."

"Beautiful is a bit of a stretch; it was a statue of you after all."

Klavier's eyes lit up at the insult. Far from hurt, he acted flattered by the harsh words. Was that what Apollo had seen? That Klavier liked when people were mean to him?

That didn't track. Many people preferred blunt honesty to sycophants. Nahyuta was one of them. Both him and Klavier were drawn to Apollo because of that uncompromising honesty.

"Shall we compare it to a statue of you, Herr Forehead?" Klavier's smile warmed Nahyuta's face. The brazen flirtation scandalized him, even if the man the flirtation was directed at seemed immune.

Apollo grimaced, his cheeks glowing pink. "Why the fuck would there be a statue of me?"

"You dethroned a queen, Minister Justice, I'm surprised there isn't already a statue of you."

"There are plans…" Nahyuta interjected quietly.

Apollo slumped, a dour frown on his face. "Please, tell me none of them are gonna be at the Temple. I don't think I could handle seeing a huge stone version of myself every day at work."

"That's where all of them are planned. It is the center of justice after all."

Klavier laughed, and Apollo groaned loudly. It took a prolonged moment for Nahyuta to realize the pun in his own statement. He smiled, playing like it'd been on purpose. It was so hard to explain that the surname he'd learned alongside his own and the English noun he'd only learned as an adult sounded completely different in his head — a homograph that no one else seemed to struggle with.

"You should count yourself lucky. Some suggested we replace all of Inga's statues with ones of you, now that you're the new Minister of Justice. It would have been a very expensive project, as there were numerous statues of him."

Apollo grimaced. "Ugh, thanks for saving me from that."

A thrill went through Nahyuta as he considered looking into a statue. It would be complete waste of time compared to his current priorities, but it would also be a very fun way to annoy Apollo.

It was also important for Khura'in. It was essential to make records, some of them in stone, so that future historians would understand what happened. They would have to enshrine the moment in court when Apollo changed history eventually (and Nahyuta would be lying if he said he wouldn't appreciate an elaborate statue of Apollo.)

"I heard there's a full moon tonight." Klavier leaned with a flirtatious smile. Nahyuta, for once, was glad Klavier's attention was solely on Apollo because even being on the periphery of the man's attention made Nahyuta's chest tight. "If you liked that song, I could play some more later under the beautiful moonlight."

"Fuck no," Apollo replied a little too quickly.

Klavier didn't flinch at the rejection, in fact he seemed to expect it. "What about the Fraulein? I could give her a once-in-a-lifetime experience."

"Oh my god, I know!" Apollo threw his hands up a frustrated sigh. "Athena likes stargazing, but she hates the cold. If I bring her up there, she'll complain the whole time. We can see the full moon from the palace."

Nahyuta narrowed his eyes as he tried to figure out why Apollo was shifting the interest in stargazing onto Athena. It wouldn't be surprising if everything Apollo said was true, but something about the excuse didn't sit right with him.

Klavier laughed, curiosity in his eyes. "Up where?"

"The summit of Mt. Poniponi." Nahyuta smiled, repeating the common advice on instinct as he struggled to figure out Apollo's odd behavior. "It's the best view in the country, but it's quite the hike."

"Noted."

"Don't forget a jacket." Apollo looked pointedly at Klavier. "And maybe button up that shirt for once, or the wind might rip it right off."

It was odd that Apollo kept mentioning the cold. It'd never been an issue when they were kids. Maybe it was yet another natural product of time and aging, but it was far more likely to be related to the marks all over Apollo's back.

"Ohoho, you are so funny, Herr Forehead," Klavier laughed a little too genuinely despite his obvious sarcasm. "I bet you would like to see that."

He tugged his v neck to the side, and Nahyuta lost track of his thoughts entirely as his eyes dropped to the faint swell of Klavier's chest. Of course Apollo would want to see that; anyone would.

"Wow," Apollo said in a dry monotone. "Would you look at the time; I have so many things to do right now that aren't this."

Nahyuta ripped his eyes away from Klavier when Apollo punched him lightly in the arm.

"Yuta, translations. Go work on them."

Chapter 10: Tip: If You Both Fumble the Baddie, You Can Just Make Out With Each Other

Nahyuta climbed the stone steps, trying to stay focused on prayer. His legs burned as he made his way up and up. He was going far higher than he normally would.

He failed to convince Apollo to join him, but the conversation had reminded him how much he himself enjoyed praying under the stars. It was his reward to himself for working through almost all the translations. They were exceedingly tedious, but now, every piece was in place. If nothing too disastrous happened tomorrow, he might even finish them.

Then, Apollo might finally talk to him about something other than how much he wanted Klavier in court with him instead of Nahyuta.

Nahyuta no longer fretted over Klavier's potential ulterior motivations. The man's true motivations were written all over his face — his beautiful, love-stricken face.

The worries didn't vanish, however. They shifted to something far more insidious: jealousy.

The jealousy was irrational, Nahyuta fully understood that, but it dug into him. It told him that Klavier was literally going to be taking Nahyuta's place in some of the few hours that he shared with Apollo, that he'd be taking over the one part of his job Nahyuta enjoyed doing, and that he'd probably do it better than Nahyuta.

It didn't matter if Klavier was better than him in court — that would actually be good —, but Nahyuta knew Klavier would be better in bed as well. Nahyuta just knew Klavier's clever hands could find a way to touch Apollo, to make him completely fall apart. He'd probably make it look easy.

Nahyuta's blood rushed south, and he quickly backpedaled, shoving the thoughts away. Not too far back, though — he'd revisit them later when he was in private.

He was going all the way up to the summit because he wanted to think about something besides work. He wanted to map each of the constellations out and retell their stories in his head.

It was much more fun with a partner, someone to bounce stories off of, but he'd become accustomed to doing it alone.

The sun was setting as Nahyuta made his way to the summit, the light fading to a soft orange as the sky turned pink around him.

Faint music floated through the air as the summit neared. At first, he thought it a trick of the wind, but as the stairs flattened out, it grew louder.

Klavier was there already at the summit, sitting on a rock, guitar in hand. The sunset lit up his hair, and he looked divine. He was breathtakingly handsome. His smile made Nahyuta's chest ache with emotions he was too scared to acknowledge as he pushed them back and back and back.

Nahyuta almost turned around and went back down. It was frustrating enough that he'd missed his shot with Apollo, but Klavier being in the one spot he went to to get away was just adding insult to injury. There weren't even any scattered tourists around— just the two of them, alone.

He'd figured Klavier wouldn't have bothered to come without an audience to play to.

The sun sunk into the horizon, the light quickly fading. Nahyuta noted Klavier's clothing — he was wearing a heavier jacket than normal, but it was the wrong material. The wind would cut straight through it.

"You should probably head down." Nahyuta kept a small distance between them, struggling to raise his voice over the music and wind.

Klaiver jumped, clutching his guitar tight as he turned around. His alarm quickly turned to annoyance. "What? Are you the only one allowed to enjoy the stars?"

"The temperature in the mountains drops precipitously after nightfall, and the wind up here is unforgiving." Nahyuta held up the heavy blanket he'd brought. "You came unprepared."

Klavier frowned and turned back to look at the last sliver of the sun dropping below the horizon. "Pity. Guess I'll come back next full moon."

He hopped off the rock, returning his guitar to its case with not nearly enough urgency. He fiddled with the tuning pegs and wiped down the instrument as Nahyuta felt the temperature begin its plunge.

"You can borrow this." Nahyuta cursed himself for the spontaneous offer. However, he'd trained himself to always offer help — it was an instinct he was usually quite proud of.

Klavier paused, looking Nahyuta over with sudden interest."Don't you need it?"

"This coat is warmer than it seems. The blanket is just a precaution."

"Seems plenty big for two people, why not share it?"

The ache in Nahyuta's chest grew deeper at the thought of being so close to Klavier, close enough to literally share his warmth.

"I'm afraid I won't make good company. I was planning on meditating."

The light was quickly fading, and a cold wind pulled at Klavier's hair. He shivered and gripped his guitar case.

"I'd been planning on writing music, but that's out the window now." A hint of worry pinched at Klavier's brow despite his smile. "It's not going to drop below freezing, right?"

"It's still summer; we should be fine."

Klavier shivered again. "It's v-very cold f-for summer."

Nahyuta closed the distance between them, throwing the blanket over Klavier's shoulders. "The wind makes it seem colder than it is."

Klavier clutched the blanket close to him, several shivers going through him as another blast of wind sent his hair flying. For once, Klavier lost his effortless poise. Hair covered his face, his weak attempts to flick it to the side only serving to tangle it.

Nahyuta bit back a laugh and pulled his spare hair tie from his pocket. "My braid is a practical choice."

"Thanks." Klavier took the tie, a sullen expression on his face. A jolt of warmth shot up Nahyuta's spine.

He liked seeing Klavier like this — not because he enjoyed the man's suffering, but because it made Klavier endearing. The way he fumbled with the tie — as if entirely inexperienced in restraining his relatively short hair — struggling to keep the blanket from falling the whole time. It was almost cute.

Nahyuta stepped back, frustrated at himself. He wanted so badly to hate Klavier; hating the man would make everything so much easier.

But, he couldn't. Klavier charmed him just as easily as he charmed everyone.

Klavier didn't notice the turmoil stewing next to him. He finally managed to get most of his hair into a messy ponytail and pulled the blanket tight around his shoulders.

With hair no longer obstructing his view, Klavier looked up and his entire posture changed. His eyes went wide, and Nahyuta could see the moon reflected in them.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Nahyuta smiled, looking up at the sky. It was a cloudless night, the full majesty of the heavens on display.

"You know, living in the city, I always loved watching the sunset, but I never understood stargazing." A dreamy smile played on Klavier's lips. "I was lucky if I could make out one constellation."

Nahyuta scanned the sky, picking out at least ten constellations easily.

"How many can you make out now?"

Klavier hummed as his eyes scanned the sky. "The little dipper and the big dipper, that's easy. There's the W one, Cassiopeia? And…" Klavier's expression faltered. "Okay, that's actually all I got. I always cared more about the myths than the stars themselves."

"Would you like to hear some of ours?"

Klavier dropped his eyes from the sky to stare at Nahyuta with a curious expression. "I would love that, if it's no trouble."

The wind cut through Nahyuta's coat, and he stifled a shiver. It was an unusually brisk night, or perhaps, he wasn't as resilient to the cold as he'd been as a child. He wouldn't be able to last much longer without the warmth of the blanket. If he wanted to avoid cuddling with Klavier the same way he cuddled with Apollo all those years ago, he'd need to leave soon.

He should want to leave, but for some reason, he didn't.

"No trouble." Nahyuta sat on the same rock Klavier had been sitting. He patted the space next to him. "But, you'll need to share that blanket."

Klavier beamed and sat himself down uncomfortably close to Nahyuta.

Nahyuta cursed his foolishness — of course Klavier would get close if they were to share warmth. That didn't make it easier to accept his fate at Klavier's all too hot body pressed against his cold limbs. His body trembled several times before he was able to force his muscles to be still.

He pulled the blanket over his shoulders and tried not to think about the press of Klavier's thigh against his, the smell of the man's cologne, the brush of warm breath across his face as Klavier looked at him expectantly.

"Let's start with my favorite, the Warba'ad. You've probably run into one of them by now."

Klavier nodded, leaning into Nahyuta as the man traced the shape in the sky with a finger . "Oh yes, I can see why you'd be so fond of them."

The wind across Nahyuta's cheeks burned. He could at least rely on the cold covering up his sudden blush.

Why was he blushing anyways? How could Klavier get under his skin so easily?

"Red, small, incredibly loud," Klavier offered, nudging Nahyuta, "Or did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"The reason legend gives for why there's a Warba'ad in the sky is very interesting." Nahyuta ignored the comment.

His heart raced as Klavier let out a sad little sigh. "Go on," he said perfectly sincerely.

Nahyuta pulled his thoughts away from Apollo, running through all the versions of the legend he knew.

"Well, there's actually several versions. Unfortunately, the one you hear most often in the modern day is that it's Lady Ke'era's bird sent out every night in search of rebels."

"I can see why you don't like that version."

"It's not the original." Nahyuta tried to reign himself back. He didn't want to punish Klavier with a lecture on historical revisionism.

"What was the original, then?"

Nahyuta steeled himself. If Klavier was asking…

"While the Warba'ad has always been associated with Lady Ke'era, the idea of it as a tool of surveillance is relatively new. Not to mention that Lady Ke'era herself is a very interesting figure. She is just as much a political symbol as she is a historical figure. Depictions of her have varied drastically from generation to generation reflecting the politics of the time."

Nahyuta paused.

"Go on," Klavier said, leaning in somehow still closer.

Nahyuta tugged on his braid and his body grew warm. Klavier was no longer marveling at the sky. His bright blue eyes were fixated on Nahyuta's face with an interest so intense that it made it hard to think. Nahyuta tried to find the fastest way to his point, avoiding all the diversions he wanted to make.

"The modern depiction of her is explicitly anti-rebel. She hunts rebels and only rebels. That, of course, is nonsense. Some say that she isn't supposed to go after rebels, but instead go after outside forces seeking to invade our land from the outside. Neither interpretation is quite what the original sources depict."

Nahyuta hesitated a second time only to see Klavier's attention hadn't wavered at all.

"The original sources show her acting not as an agent of the government or the church — as neither existed at that point —, but as an enforcer. One could argue that would make her our first solider, and hence, the figurehead of the military, but I don't quite understand that interpretation. She worked alone and only raised her dagger when people did harm to others. Not to mention the dagger is a very odd choice for a so-called-solider. The art of that era depicted warriors almost exclusively wielding swords or bows — but that is neither here nor there. I think…" Nahyuta took a breath, reminding himself that Klavier wouldn't be familiar enough with Khurainese history to balk at his rather unique interpretation. "The most obvious interpretation of her role is one of… justice."

Nahyuta raised his eyes to the Warba'ad in the sky.

"She doesn't send her bird into the sky to look for rebels. The Warba'ad is looking for those in need of justice."

Klavier raised his hand up to his mouth, covering a small laugh. Nahyuta braced, but Klavier expression remained fond, if suddenly sad.

"Oh no." Klavier turned away. "You are delightful, Herr Braid."

The nickname made Nahyuta's already warm face burn white hot. He should tell Klavier off for it, just like he should have walked away earlier.

"I'm aware that it's cliche for the prosecutor to make everything about justice," he muttered, the ache in his chest swelling, "but it's the only interpretation that made sense to me, even when I was a kid surrounded by rebels that flinched at her name."

"I love an unconventional interpretation." Klavier nudged Nahyuta gently. "Can I hear another?"

---

Nahyuta talked until his voice went hoarse, Klavier hanging on his every word, supplying him with additional questions whenever the words slowed.

To make matters worse, Klavier was absorbing the information. Recalling things when they came up a second time — sometimes, making the connection before Nahyuta could point it out.

And the entire time, their bodies stayed pressed together. Nahyuta could feel Klavier's hands move under the blanket, tapping out little rhythms against anything he touched. At first, Nahyuta was thankful those absentminded hands never came into contact with his body, but as time wore on, he found himself craving it.

His own fingers were restless on his prayer beads. The ache in his chest grew with every story, every diversion. Even as his eyes grew heavy and his voice rougher, he didn't want to stop.

He bit back a yawn, and Klavier laughed. Every time Klavier laughed, Nahyuta could feel the man's breath hot across his wind-chapped face, and he quickly found himself craving that as well.

"Perhaps, we should turn in for the night," Klavier offered.

"Yes, I've got important work to do tomorrow." Nahyuta's heart sunk. He was already short on sleep and he still had hours of tedious work ahead of him. Not to mention the massive tangle of emotions that he needed to sort out before they grew out of control. "I shouldn't have taken so much of your time."

"I think it was me that took your time." Klavier laughed again. "Sorry that you didn't get to meditate."

Nahyuta stood up, pulling away from Klavier's warmth. He instantly regretted it. The cold was harsher than he anticipated.

"I'm sorry you weren't able to write any music."

Klavier stood, holding the blanket around him with one hand and grabbing his guitar with the other. "Don't be silly, learning new things is essential to making art. You've given me so many new ideas."

Nahyuta shivered as he began the walk down.

"Are you sure you don't need this?" Klavier waved the blanket at him as he kept pace. "It'll be a little awkward walking in unison, but I'm used to following my partner's feet when I dance."

"It's only this cold at the summit." Nahyuta shivered as he tried very hard not to think about dancing with Klavier. He just had to make it back to his room. "I'll be fine."

They walked in silence for a few moments, Nahyuta trying his hardest to not visibly shiver. The wind no longer tore through him, but the warmth wasn't returning to his limbs.

"I'm sorry, but I've got to ask," Klavier broke the silence. “How did you do it?” 

Nahyuta tensed, eyeing Klavier with suspicion.  

“I’ve done much in my lifetime. You’ll need to be more specific.” 

Klaiver laughed lightly and fiddled with his hair. “How did you convince Apollo Justice to stay?”

Nahyuta’s heart caught in his throat. It was true, he'd convinced Apollo, but he was barely sure himself how he’d done it. After the trial, he’d been such a mess, he barely remembered what he’d said to convince Apollo to stay. He remembered that he’d held it together — barely, but he had. He hadn’t screamed or cried or gotten on his knees to grovel (even though he’d thought of doing all those things). He’d done things as he’d always been taught: calm and direct.  

And somehow, it worked.  

“I suspect it was more my father’s work than mine.” Nahyuta closed his eyes, offering silent, grateful prayer to his father. “I believe he talked to Apollo about staying in Khura’in before…” Nahyuta’s voice caught in his throat, and he swallowed hard. He didn't need to add grief to the list of emotions tonight. “When I came to Apollo, he was already considering the possibility.” 

Klavier nodded slowly, clearly not satisfied at all with that answer.  

“Is something wrong?” Nahyuta asked, a polite smile on his face.  

Klavier sighed, a serious expression building under his usual friendly smile. “I wasn’t really asking about him staying in Khura’in — I was asking how you got him to stay with you.” 

Anger bubbled up Nahyuta’s throat, but he swallowed it quickly. He smiled on instinct and replied, “He’s not here for me; he’s here because he cares deeply about reforming our homeland.” 

“Wait, what?” 

Klavier stopped where he was, but Nahyuta kept going. He had to keep going, because if he stopped he would have to confront the humiliation of having to admit his failure.

“Were you under the impression the two of us were in a relationship?” Nahyuta rolled his prayer beads under his fingers as he called out behind him, using the familiar sensation to calm himself. He would not collapse here, not in front of Klavier. 

"Of course." Klavier chased after him. "I'm not blind."

“Minister Justice is a consummate professional, and there is much work to do.  There hasn’t been time.” 

“Holy shit! He’s a total moron!” Klavier danced in front of Nahyuta, facing Nahyuta as he confidently walked backwards down the stairs.

Nahyuta’s back straightened. His defenses all snapped into place at even the slightest suggestion that the man who’d saved, and then, promptly ruined his life might have done anything wrong.  

“He turned you down?” Klaiver sounded almost reverent. 

Nahyuta felt an increasingly familiar heat rising in his cheeks, and he forced himself to relax.  

“It’s not that simple,” he muttered, tracing the shape of his prayer beads again and again. “There hasn’t been time, and…” 

He trailed off, hoping Klaiver would have the good grace to move on.  

“Have you not even tried?” Klaiver said with a lighthearted smile that made Nahyuta’s gut churn. 

The man was a dream, a rock star, a hero, an angel with a devil’s smile. He was quick on his feet, compassionate, good with people — everything Nahyuta wasn't.

And what was worse was that Klaiver was sincere. He proved his sincerity again and again, his unwavering dedication to helping people. He played an egotist, but even at his most self-centered, he seemed far more interested in making sure the people around him were happy rather than taking up all the air for himself.  

And he was talented, too. Not only a poet, not only a scholar, but a virtuoso, too.   

Nahyuta hated him because he couldn’t compete. All he could offer Apollo was more work, more obligation. He tried to give Apollo a home to compensate for all the baggage, but it wasn’t enough. He should be able to offer Apollo the world after everything the man had done for him.  

Klavier could offer the world.  

Klavier had offered the world.  

Why hadn’t Apollo accepted? 

If Apollo had treated flirtation from Klavier Gavin like an footnote in his career, what hope did Nahyuta Sahdmadhi have?  

"Of course I have tried, but…" Rage and shame fought so hard inside him that he found his hands shaking as they held his beads.

He couldn't admit that his attempts had all failed so severely. Somehow, he'd gotten Apollo under him in bed, half-naked and squirming, and afterwards, Apollo had only doubled down on talking about work. Every single conversation since had involved getting those damned translations done.

"You know my story; there’s been no space in my life for relationships. I’m not sure that’s changed.” 

Klaiver clicked his tongue in a way that should have been annoying, but instead, it made Nahyuta’s blood rush south. Klavier’s eyes weighed heavy on Nahyuta as the man struggled to keep his childish embarrassment from showing.  

“I think it’s important to make time for that sort of thing.” Klavier stepped directly in front of Nahyuta, stopping him in his tracks. “Even if it’s not what most people would consider a relationship, having someone to let off steam with makes everything easier, in my experience.” 

As Klavier flirted, something darted past the man’s expression, like he’d remembered something best left buried. It should have been a warning sign, but it only intrigued Nahyuta further.  

“What are you suggesting?” 

“Just a little fun,” Klavier pulled the tie out of his hair, his gold hair falling loosely over his shoulders as he let the blanket fall away. The lewdness of the motion drew Nahyuta's eyes down to the man's chest, taking in all the skin Klavier left on display every day. “Maybe I could teach you some things.” 

Nahyuta tore his eyes away from Klavier’s body, and he centered his thoughts again. Stepping around Klavier, he forced his feet to continue down the stairs. His brain barely registered that a literal rock star was throwing himself at him. It didn’t seem real, it didn’t seem right.  

And what was worse, even as Klavier matched pace with him, grinning flirtatiously the whole time, Nahyuta was still thinking about Apollo Justice.  

Because what truly intrigued Nahyuta was that Klavier wasn't just offering his body, but offering to help Nahyuta, to teach him. Offering a simple arrangement that could help Nahyuta figure out how to finally make a breakthrough with Apollo.

“I’m not against…” Nahyuta’s word caught in his throat. His command of poetry and prayer was unassailable in Khurainese, but English was a far cruder and blunter language. There had never been a reason to learn the words he now needed.  

“I’m not against having some fun,” he said, feeling like a fledgling law student struggling to get through their first paper, “but I can’t lie to you. If something changes, if Apollo…” 

Nahyuta trailed off again, still unsure of what he wanted to say — not just in English, but in general. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, how to explain the total selfishness he felt towards Apollo, the clawing need to be by his side.  

“I have to admit, I’m the same.” Klavier’s smile wavered again, but didn’t vanish. “Call us both selfish men, or call Apollo Justice a true modern siren.” 

Nahyuta narrowed his eyes. “There’s no need to compare the man to an ambulance. He’s not that loud.” 

Klavier’s eyes widened, a startled laugh leaving his far too beautiful lips.  

Then, Nahyuta realized his mistake.  

“Sorry, it's late.” 

Klaiver waved a hand with a sort of friendly dismissiveness Nahyuta wished he could emulate.  

They were almost at the bottom of the stairs.

“Do not apologize for making a funny joke,” Klavier hummed under his breath, looking Nahyuta over intensely.  “You know, one of the first things you learn as a musician is that you never admit a mistake. You may know you’re not doing your best, but the audience won’t unless you tell them.” 

“That’s useful advice for the concert hall and the courtroom, but less so for the bedroom.” 

“Au contraire, beautiful." Reaching the bottom of the steps, Klavier grabbed Nahyuta's arm, spinning him until they were face to face. The boldness startled him. The closeness, the smell of cologne and hair product, the smile that was taking up far too much of his vision… It was all too much.  

“The bedroom is all about faking it,” Klavier purred, his eyes tracing Nahyuta's lips shamelessly.

Klavier’s mouth was so close to Nahyuta’s. Nahyuta was about to have his first kiss — not with his childhood love, but with a stranger he’d barely known a month.  

Not that he believed in the sanctity of firsts. He believed in repetition, iteration, improvement.  

He believed in experience.  

So, he leaned in and kissed Klavier Gavin.  

Chapter 11: Level of Delicacy

Nahyuta Sahdmadhi kissed like he was starving but wasn't allowed to admit it. He was nervous, hesitating before every move. Each kiss was slow, almost chaste, and when Klavier tried to encourage him by pulling him closer, he froze up.

Klavier didn't push his already unbelievable luck any further that night. The whole thing felt like a dream already.

He hadn't expected to fall so hard and so fast under the soft moonlight, let alone that those feeling would be reciprocated. It hadn't occurred to him, even as he threw himself at the man, that devoted, pious Nahyuta would say yes.

He certainly hadn't expected Nahyuta to chase his mouth and make soft, sad noises whenever they broke apart.

He hadn't expected that a few closed mouth kisses would set his body on fire.

As Klavier tossed and turned in his bed, it wasn't only Nahyuta's lips on his mind — it was also his words. He'd weaved such beautiful stories, even if he often paused, unsure if Klavier was still listening. It was the moments when his control dropped that truly drove Klavier's brain into overdrive. The moments of unrestrained passion, the dry (often dark) jokes, the brief sparks of rage — they all layered atop one another to produce a veritable flood of ideas.

He gave up on sleep and pulled out his phone, jotting down every idea in his head, cataloging them before he could forget. Perhaps next time, he would be able to take notes as Nahyuta talked.

The idea that he kept looping back to was that of the Warba'ad, the bird stretching it's wings across the sky, looking for those that needed saving. Klavier couldn't help but wonder how many times Nahyuta had looked up at those stars hoping that he would be next.

How tragic, but also, how joyous — because someone had come to save him.

The most oblivious idiot on the planet had come to save him.

How tragically ironic.

Klavier did not want to air other people's dirty laundry any more than he wanted to air his own, but it was such a compelling idea. Surely, he could find a way to make it less obvious what the song was really about.

The song played in his sleep-deprived head again and again, clearer every time as he dragged himself out of bed to stumble through more boring work. As usual, musical inspiration only helped his legal work. Tedium was far more manageable when he had ideas to chew on, and the more repetitive parts of the work gave space and time for ideas to stretch and coalesce.

When lunch started, he prepared to grab something quick and enjoy his break outside with his guitar, but was stopped by very haggard-looking Nahyuta holding a loose stack of folders.

He made a beeline for Klavier, an adorably nervous smile playing on his lips.

"Are the translations done?" Klavier asked, leaning into Nahyuta's space and letting his fingers brush one of Nahyuta's hands.

"Yes — Well, not quite — It's not 100% done, but I've pulled out the most important parts, so at least, you can start —"

"Lunch break," Datz appeared out of nowhere and yanked the files out of Nahyuta's hands. "Yuty, you disappoint me. KG has already started his break. Don't bother him with work."

"[It will just take a moment.]" Nahyuta tried, and failed, to grab them back. "[Let me—]"

"Guess you'll just have to wait until he's done." Datz shot Klavier a look, but Klavier already understood that he was merely being used as an excuse and was ready to play along.

"[Oh, go to ▇▇▇▇▇!]" Nahyuta snapped.

"[Already been there.]" Datz clapped the man on the back. "[You look like ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇. Eat something.]"

Klavier's plans shifted quickly. He grabbed some dumplings. "[He's right, why not join me for a walk and I can pick these up when I come back?]"

Datz absolutely beamed at Klavier.

Nahyuta shrunk away, switching back and forth between English and Khurainese words for a few seconds. Datz' eyes narrowed, head tilting to the side as he eyed Klavier up and down again. There was a warmth in his expression that Klavier couldn't quite recognize, but it caused his chest to go tight and his eyes to burn.

"[▇▇ ▇ ▇▇.]" Datz smacked Klavier firmly on the back as he walked away — hard enough to send Klavier stumbling closer to Nahyuta.

Nahyuta was quiet as they exited the room. Klavier offered him some dumplings as the walked.

"We can speak English," Nahyuta said before taking a bite.

"[Maybe I want to practice.]"

Nahyuta smiled and shook his head. "[I'm afraid my ▇▇▇▇ is ▇▇▇ for ▇▇▇ to ▇▇▇. It's easier for me to ▇▇▇▇ ▇▇ ▇▇ in English than it is for me to ▇▇▇▇ simplify my ▇▇▇▇.] This is an important conversation, I don't want any ambiguity."

Klavier sighed petulantly. Nahyuta's practiced, formal tone actually made it harder to understand the unfamiliar words. At least with Datz, Klavier could guess the gist of what the man said on vibes alone. "You're right, for now. It still feels rather unfair to you."

Nahyuta grabbed another dumpling as they approached the garden. "I could lecture you in Khurainese sometime, if you think that'd help."

"I think it would help quite a lot."

Nahyuta looked away, his whole body tensing. Klavier's face warmed.

He’d already picked up on Nahyuta’s shyness. Normally, it'd be a turn off. He didn't have any interest in virgins or people that didn’t know what they wanted… at least, usually, he didn't.  

Nahyuta intrigued him. The poised control with boiling hunger just underneath the surface kept Klavier captivated, hanging on every word. He wanted to unleash that hunger, that passion.

Even thinking about it was making his cunt throb.

“I wouldn't mind a repeat of last night,” Klavier said only half as flirtatiously as he wanted as he handed Nahyuta another dumpling. 

"Whi-which part?" Nahyuta mumbled as he took the offering.

"All of it," Klavier answered honestly. Every part of it had been magical, except maybe the wind constantly threatening to rip his hair out of its tie. He hoped Nahyuta didn't mind that he'd kept it (it smelled like Nahyuta's coconut and rose hair oil). "But, there is one part in specific we could try again right now."

Nahyuta swallowed and nodded, body leaning towards Klavier's. "We could go to my office."

---

Nahyuta didn’t kiss like anyone Klavier had kissed before. As the man nerves melted ever so slowly, he methodically explored every method before moving onto the next — like he was slowly unlocking the best technique. It was a frustrating level of restraint. Nahyuta hands kept reaching for Klavier only to pull away like he'd been burned.

Klavier kept pulling the man closer, making encouraging noises whenever Nahyuta grew bolder. He had to hold himself back from grabbing Nahyuta's hands and placing them where he wanted.

Klavier's ass pressed against Nahyuta's desk, and he resisted the urge to climb up on it, to spread his thighs and wrap his legs around Nahyuta's hips. His body throbbed with desire to press every inch of himself against Nahyuta's slim frame.

Holding back was an active effort, but he knew he needed to be gentle with Nahyuta — even if the slowness was making him desperate for more.

He needed more. He’d needed more for over a year. Ever since the last concert, since the trial, since Daryan had gone to jail. 

A lot had happened since then. Klavier was used to a lot happening, but for years, he’d had someone to go back to. Maybe Daryan wasn’t the kindest man, or the most caring, but he’d come when Klavier called. He’d fucked Klavier's brains out and helped him pull his life together whenever it inevitably fell apart. That had been enough — until Daryan had ruined it by going too far.  

And no one had been able to replace him since.  

Apollo could; he had the brains, the determination, the confidence, but not the interest.  

“Could we —” Nahyuta whispered against Klavier's mouth, jolting him back to reality. “— meet up tonight?” 

The desire to tease rose — to tease Nahyuta’s breathless hunger, to deny him just long enough to see how badly the man wanted it, to see what happened when Nahyuta's ironclad control snapped —, but Klavier dismissed it. What Nahyuta needed was encouragement, and Klavier didn’t want to lose what he’d just gained.  

“My place or yours?” Klavier whispered back.  

Nahyuta’s breath caught in his throat. His usual stoic face was twisted into the most beautiful look of desperation Klavier had ever seen. His hand came to Klavier's cheek.

“Yours."  

Nahyuta's hand slipped down from cheek, to jaw, to Klavier's neck. His thumb grazed Klavier's windpipe as the other fingers slid down his neck.

A strangled noise ripped from Klavier's throat, his head tipping back as he pressed into the touch. His body trembled in anticipation for the feeling of those fingers digging into the muscle, for the press of palm against his Adam's apple, for the sweet lightheaded sensation that he missed so much.

Nahyuta's hand vanished followed by the rest of his warmth.

Shame stabbed through Klavier's chest. He didn't want to look at Nahyuta, but he forced himself to.

The man's face was flushed, his eyes dark, but he looked scared. He cradled the hand that'd just been against Klavier's throat.

"I'm sorry." Klavier laughed (or tried to). "I don't know what that was," he lied, suddenly very grateful that he was in front of Nahyuta and not Apollo.

Nahyuta nodded slowly. His fingers twitched as he straightened himself out. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Klavier laughed for real. "Oh no, not at all. It was an… overreaction on my part. I am not accustomed to your level of delicacy."

"Would you like me to be…" Nahyuta's tongue ran over his kiss-swollen lips. "… less delicate?"

"Don't force yourself if it makes you uncomfortable." Klavier swallowed hard, eyes glued to Nahyuta's lips. "But, yes, I like it quite a bit rougher."

"I… can try."

Desire burned in Nahyuta's eyes, and dread knotted in Klavier's stomach as he realized wasn't going to be satisfied by just kissing Nahyuta. He needed more, and that meant broaching the uncomfortable topic — soon.

If he was right about Apollo, Klavier was sure he'd be safe, but if he was wrong… there was a chance, however small, that everything was about to blow up in his face.

Chapter 12: Collaboration

The sun shone down on Klavier as he leaned back against a tree, plucking at his guitar.

Loose pages of the law book stayed pinned under his leg. His learning process was unconventional, but no one could deny the results he got.

Read a passage, then do a musical exercise, going back and forth between working his brain and his fingers.

It didn't go quite as fast as it should because he found he was terribly out of practice; even the most basic chord progressions felt stiff and unnatural. He could blame some of it on the instrument, but that was a cowards way out. At his peak, he could make any instrument sing.

He flipped to the next page. There was another mention of the Divination Seance. He still didn't fully understand what that was referring to. The description of it from the trial records seemed… to good to be true. Everyone talked about the Pool of Souls and Spirit Channeling like they were unquestioned reality, but Klavier had yet to see any of it happen in real life. Either would entirely revolutionize forensics if they were widespread. For the first time, he understood why Ema had stayed in Khura'in when there had to be endless offers for her talents.

He went back to playing, frowning as his already tired fingers barely hit their marks and the muscles in his arm ached.

One month away from music shouldn't have set him as far back as it did… Except it hadn't been only one month. He hadn't fully given up on playing, but ever since Daryan had gone to jail, Klavier only played out of routine. At least he had until routine became obligation and obligation became chore and chore became hassle.

He flipped to the next page as a familiar bright yellow figure ran up to him.

"Oh! Mein Babygirl!" Athena skidded to a stop in front of him. "How are you? It's so good to see you playing again."

"Unfortunately, I'm too busy to put on a concert for you now, Fraulein. The faster I can get through this book, the faster I can start practicing again — and I've been dying to get back to court."

"The translation are done? That's great news!" Athena flopped down on the grass in front of him. Her long limbs stretched out as she watched the clouds floating across the sky. "I just got back from a run, so I need to rest for a bit; you don't have to talk if you don't want."

"I'm also nearly done this section," he said, scanning the page. "Give me a few moments."

Athena hummed in assent. She lifted her legs, doing some basic stretches as he slowly finished his reading. Once he'd gone through a few more rounds of reading and playing, he shoved all the papers back in their folders, shaking his hands out with a grimace.

"Is something wrong?" Athena turned her face to him, nodding at the guitar. "I was super careful with her the whole trip."

"Oh no, she's in perfect condition! You did well." Klavier smiled at her winningly as he lifted his hand back to the fingerboard. He started playing his first single on instinct. The chords that'd shaped his music career felt unnatural and uncomfortable, but he pressed on, knowing Athena wouldn't notice.

Athena beamed back at him, doing a little dance where she lay. "Thank you," she cooed before her smiled faded. She looked Klavier over with a sudden, sharp gaze.

"Why are you sad, then?"

His fingers slipped on the fingerboard, and he sucked in a breath. He paused and laughed before beginning to play again.

"Do I look sad?"

"Your heart is sad." Athena looked away, closing her eyes as she basked in the sun. "Usually when someone's playing an instrument their heart sings with joy, but yours only got sadder."

Klavier hoped his heart didn't tell her about the fear that grew in him.

Apollo could spot any lie, but Klavier was more than practiced placing his words carefully so that nothing was technically lie. Athena bypassed that whole strategy with ease.

"I miss touring," he said, keeping his smile on as his fingers struggled to hit their marks.

"Oh really? So many artists say that touring sucks."

He laughed. "Yeah, traveling can be a pain, but I love visiting new places. Plus, it's all worth it for the performances."

"You don't have to be on tour to perform."

"That's true." He hummed under his breath. "But, it wasn't easy finding venues. We got famous so fast — went straight from recording demos in my bedroom to filling up concert halls."

Also, he hadn't been old enough to enter many of the smaller venues. Some bars made exceptions for performers, but expected him to wear a special wrist band marking him as a child. He could see the humor in it now, but as a teen he'd found it humiliating.

Athena's phone chimed, drawing her attention away.

"Oh! The Dance of Devotion is about to start. Do you want to come?"

"I'm not religious." Klavier said, not pausing his strumming.

"Apollo will be there," Athena offered teasingly. "You could tell him the translations are done in person."

Klavier paused, a stubborn part of him wanting to reject the obvious bait.

"Is Apollo religious?" he asked. He shifted his position, playing like he was still on the fence despite already knowing he was going to go with her.

Athena wrinkled her nose, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "He says he's not, but I think his real feelings are more complicated. I haven't pressed because I was raised very atheist. I mean, my mother taught me about Shintoism because it's a pretty important part of Japanese culture, but she always emphasized that it was all superstition with no scientific backing. So, I don't really get all that stuff."

Klavier decided he'd held off an acceptable amount and started packing his guitar away.

"I don't get it either," Klavier admitted. "My parents were…"

He trailed off as he clicked the clasp of his case closed. Normally, he would never talk about this; he'd actively avoided the subject in interviews for years. Athena's ability to tease information out of him was admirable, if annoying.

"I don't think my parents really believed in anything," he said as he rose to his feet. "Religion was a tool to maintain the status quo."

"Ugh!" Athena's face twisted in disgust. "I hate those kinda people."

Klavier smiled despite himself. He wasn't supposed to talk poorly about his parents. They died tragically young, after all. He didn't miss them, but he wasn't supposed to admit that.

Athena wasn't a journalist, and he knew she would never sell him out to the tabloids, but he still hesitated to admit the truth as they walked to the temple.

"It's all in the past now." He shrugged as if it was no big deal, as if the pain of their rejection didn't still sting all these years later… As if his chest didn't hurt every time he saw a parent holding their child.

"It is okay to be angry." Athena's eyes bored into Klavier, nearly pinning him where he stood.

He looked away, his heart thundering in his chest. Had he been angry? Perhaps, Athena had misheard.

---

"What are you plotting?" Apollo's eyes focused on Athena, his hand firmly on his bracelet.

He stood near the entrance, leaning up against the wall as people continued to wander into the ceremonial chamber. Klavier was rather surprised to see standing room only and a modest stage. He'd expected… more from the ceremony performed by the future queen herself.

"Why must you always accuse me of plotting?" Athena pouted with a dramatic sigh. "Is it so hard to believe that I simply ran into Prosecutor Gavin on the way here and thought that he might enjoy the show?"

Apollo's eyes narrowed, but he didn't push the matter further.

"This your first one, Gavin?" Apollo turned his attention to Klavier.

"Yes, I thought it would be rude to be a spectator in such a scared tradition."

"Oh, please." Apollo rolled his eyes. "This ain't scared, it's just… a ritual, ya'know? A thing to go to at the same time every day. You hear some music, maybe chat with some friends. Half the people here are just tourists gawking."

"I hadn't thought of it like that." Klavier scanned the crowd and found Apollo's assertion to be true: the numerous tourists all stuck out like sore thumbs. Klavier was aware he probably looked like a tourist as well, but he had no interest in changing his signature style just so he could cosplay as a local.

"Datz used to bring Nahyuta and me." Apollo's eyes were distant as he looked around the room. "I always thought it was strange that Dhurke never came. I didn't realize… he couldn't."

Athena placed a soft hand on his shoulder. "Any progress with Datz?"

"He'll come when he's ready." Apollo's eyes grew sharp as he glared at her. "Don't push him, Athena; I'm serious about this one."

"I know his problems are far beyond my skills… but surely, they're not above Simon's skills."

Apollo tensed, pulling away from Athena. Before he could say anything, the lights lowered and prerecorded music began to play from speakers around the temple.

Klavier turned to watch as Rayfa walked to the center of the stage, poised and confident in a way only years of experience could produce. She raised her arms above her head, striking a practiced pose. Her eyes closed, waiting as the music swelled.

As a voice joined the instrumentals playing over the speakers, Rayfa began her dance. Harsh whispers came from behind him, bickering back and forth, but Klavier ignored them as he closely followed the performance.

Rayfa was talented, graceful, and precise. Klavier had enjoyed the self-imposed challenge of learning how to move in chains without them loudly clinking together, but the rest of the band had found it it frustrating. Rayfa spun and twirled while the bells at her wrists only made sounds on the exact beats she wanted. He could tell from the determined look in her eye that she knew exactly how good she was. She didn't dance for fun; she danced for purpose.

She would be far happier as a dancer than a queen, he thought bitterly. Perhaps he could get her to realize that, if only he could get close to her again.

The music swelled, but Rayfa struck her pose for just a beat too long. The recording didn't wait for her, and Klavier saw a flash of annoyance in her eyes as she had to speed up the next move to rejoin the music.

It was the tiniest mistake. Klavier was sure few, if any, of the rest of the crowd had noticed, but he could see the tension in the rest of her dance as she repressed her frustration at the error.

That impressed him even more. He'd been far worse at covering his mistakes at her age.

The song itself was rather boring in the way that any ceremonial song had to be. Klavier was sure he could reproduce it on any instrument after a few more listens. He could probably do a good enough job after just one, if he wasn't trying to be humble.

When the song ended, Klavier turned back to see Apollo was already gone. Athena leaned against the wall where he'd been. Her necklace flickered red several times, ultimately staying on green even as her mouth pressed into a thin line.

There was something familiar in the scene. In her hunched shoulders, the way her nose scrunched and her fingers dug into her forearm as she very deliberately didn't pout.

People began filing out, and Klavier leaned on the wall next to Athena.

"You work with Simon, right?" Athena asked, not looking at Klavier.

"Yes; I can't say I understand him, but we've found a way to get along."

"He's doing okay, right?" Athena's eyes were soft as her posture relaxed. "Others have told me he's doing okay, but he makes himself hard to read on purpose, and… I worry."

"I wouldn't say he's doing just okay—" Athena turned at Klavier's words, alarm written all over her face. "—He's thriving, Fraulein. I can't understand it to save my life, but I have never seen a prosecutor so content exactly where he is."

"Oh!" Athena's eyes shone with tears. "Thank you! I'm so glad! He deserves to be happy, after everything."

"You worry about a lot of people, Fraulein." Klavier leaned towards her, brushing her shoulder with his. "You worry about a lot of people that are quite a bit older than you."

"Yeah, and?" She looked off, muttering under her breath, "Apollo is not that much older than me."

"Not to brag, but I was even younger than you when I passed the bar. You remind me a lot of myself, and that is not a compliment I give lightly." He paused and saw Athena's face flush just a bit. "I understand what you're feeling right now, but you can't do everything."

"It's just…" Athena closed her eyes, and her eyebrows pressed together. "Apollo told me that Datz used to be the most religious person he knew, but now, the man won't even set foot in this room, and the way Apollo's heart screams when he talks about it… how am I supposed to ignore that?"

"Datz has people looking out for him already."

Athena let out a sigh, her shoulder slumping. "I can hear everyone's hearts all the time," she muttered so quietly Klavier could barely make out the words. "Is it so bad to want a little peace and quiet when I'm around the people I love?"

"You could try earplugs."

Klaiver meant it as a joke, but Athena grimaced.

"They block out everything. I still want to be able to hear the things normal people hear."

"It shouldn't be too hard to rig some headphones that would filter out only certain frequencies."

"Headphones are too heavy," Athena frowned.

"Not if you have top of the line equipment." Klavier nudged her again. "Like, say, a bunch of top of the line equipment that's currently languishing in a certain rock star's storage."

Athena's eyes went wide. "Oh no! I couldn't!"

"Why not?"

Athena paused, thought about it, and changed her mind in a matter of seconds.

"You are so right! I should try again! I…" She stared off into space, annoyance on her face. "Why didn't I try again before?"

"Sometimes, all it takes is a little collaboration to get things done." Klavier snapped his fingers, searching the room for a certain white and pink outfit. "Now, Fraulein. You can't fix everything, but there is one thing you can do for me before I hand off the keys to my auditory castle!"

---

"Oh! Your Eminence!" Athena sang, bounding across the room. The princess leapt back in alarm, annoyance immediately crossing her face, but she didn't run away.

Klavier followed after Athena, wary of seeming too eager, too aggressive.

"What do you want?" Rayfa clutched her staff close to her, glaring at Athena with suspicion.

"I just wanted to say that the performance was wonderful." Athena beamed, taking Rayfa complete lack of reciprocation in stride. "I wasn't able to attend the last time I was here, unfortunately, but you dance beautifully."

Rayfa scoffed and turned away. "Not one of my finer performances," she said with a frown.

"You are far too humble," Klavier said, not needing to fake his earnestness in the least. "I doubt Athena even noticed what you're referring to."

Athena looked between the two to them with genuine confusion.

"See?"

"Oh!" Athena pulled out her phone. "That is Apollo; I have to go!"

She ran out of the room, but not before giving Klavier a small thumbs up.

In her absence, Rayfa shrunk away. Her face flushed, and she glowered at the floor. For a moment, Klavier thought she was going to run away, but she persevered.

"You noticed," she muttered. "The recording is wrong. When I had a live performer, I always held for an extra beat there. It looks better that way,"

"I am a professional entertainer! It's my job to notice little details like that." Klavier leaned in, bringing his eye line to hers in his best attempt to not come off as intimidating.

Most would not call him intimidating, but he didn't have a better word for the way certain people shrunk away under his attention. It was a frustrating dance, being too forward was just as ineffectual as being too nice.

He far preferred to work with those that were immune to his charms (not the most reliable strategy — some, like Ema, were a little too immune.).

"Oh, yes." Rayfa eyed the guitar case on Klavier's back. "You're a musician."

The way she said it almost made it sound like a question.

Rayfa fiddled with her staff, looking away, clearly trying muster the bravery to ask.

Klaiver debated switching to Khurainese in bid to impress her further, but he remembered Nahyuta's words from earlier. It was an important, delicate conversation with someone that, from what he'd heard, had been raised bilingual. He didn't want to fumble Athena's lay up by trying too hard.

"Currently on hiatus, but yes," he said.

"I haven't had a live musician to play with for a few months now," Rayfa mumbled quietly. Red rose in her cheeks. "The recording is… inadequate."

Klavier gritted his teeth. He'd anticipated something like this, but he'd hoped it wouldn't have come up quite so fast.

"I apologize, but I don't think I can help with that." Klavier struggled to maintain his friendly, casual tone. "I have no plans to convert to Khurainism. It would be disrespectful of me to take that role."

Rayfa shrunk in on herself. "Oh… no, that's… fair. It's just…"

"I'm sure there's locals that'd do a better job than me," Klavier offered. "I could ask around."

Tears formed in Rayfa's eyes. She blinked them away, looking at the ground. "They all hate me."

"I'm sure that's not…" Klavier's mouth worked faster than his brain, halfway through a standard reassurance before he realized what she meant. She shrunk even further as he scrambled to save the attempt. "Surely, they know you aren't your parents."

"I helped them." Tears welled in her eyes again. "I stood in front of the court and used the Divination Seance to send people to their fates, just like they told me to."

"You were being manipulated." Klavier's heart rose in his throat. He knew full well what it was like to be used in the courtroom. He found himself haunted by his brother's legacy, the lingering question of just how much of his brother's advice had led to wrongful convictions.

He'd reviewed his whole case history several times, and he hoped he'd caught all of his mistakes, but there was no telling what else could worm itself out of the woodwork as the years went on.

Something burned in his chest, and he smothered it. He couldn't let those emotions out in front of someone already shrinking away from him.

"I'm lucky," Rayfa sighed. "In Khura'in, children bear the sins of their parents; at least—" She looked away with pain swimming in her eyes. "—, that's what my parents always taught me. They told me many lies, including the lie that they birthed me… but, in truth, I did not come from Ga'ran, so according to tradition, I don't have to carry her sins."

"Have you talked to your brother about this?"

Rayfa flinched. "He doesn't understand. He knew what Ga'ran asked of him was wrong; he always knew."

She shrunk in on herself, and Klavier wanted to grab her and hold her in the tightest hug he could mange, but such a thing was leagues out of the question.

"Maybe I could help with the dance." Klavier toyed with his hair, avoiding looking at her as her face went through several emotions. "As a temporary measure, of course, I could make a new recording — one more suited to your needs."

Rayfa lit up, stuttering out several words of thanks.

"But, it will have to wait until tomorrow." Klavier lifted the files with a smile. "I've got some very important work to do."

She nodded and let him go. Klavier made his exit quickly, already pondering how quickly he could resolve the issue of getting Rayfa a musician. Sure, he could do the performance, even doing both morning and afternoon would be less than an hour total out of his day, but on top of starting court again, it would be an inconvenience. Obviously, the courts would want him to be as flexible as possible.

As he strode back out into the bright sunshine, the first thing he heard was two loud, familiar voices. Athena had already found Apollo again, and they were already arguing.

Klavier noticed immediately that something was off. There was none of their usual playful smiles and eye rolling. Their movements were sharp, postures guarded. They stood several feet apart, as if from across a courtroom.

"If you didn't change the settings, then why is it green right now when you are clearly pissed?" Apollo snapped, pointing at Athena's neck.

"Oh, I see how it is." Athena's voice was defensive and bitter. "When I use Widget unfiltered, it's all: 'Athena take the necklace off! Athena, you are making us look bad! Athena, your stupid necklace is ruining our bluffing strategy!' But the moment that I try to fix that and make it so I can bluff more in court, it's all: 'Athena, stop hiding your emotions!'"

"If the new settings are for court, then why are they on now?" Apollo hand was firmly on his bracelet, his eyes searching Athena's face.

"Because I want to test it before trying it out in court." Athena leaned forward, handed balled into fists against her hips. "God fucking forbid."

"I can see you lying, Athena! I'm not stupid!" Apollo's voice tore as his hand tightened around his bracelet.

Athena turned away a deep frown on her face. Her icy glare melted the moment she spotted Klavier.

There was still tension in her posture, but she plastered on a smile. "Mein babygirl!" She waved him over, as if he hadn't just stumbled headfirst into a war zone. "Come, tell Apollo the good news."

Apollo's brow furrowed, but he clearly didn't want to continue the argument in front of Klavier.

"Oh, yes!" Klavier cleared his throat. He lifted the stack of folders. "I've got the law book, or at least, most of it. It might take a day or two before I'm court ready, but I'm a quick study."

"They're done?" Apollo's anger vanished, his eyes suddenly shining with pained hope.

"Prosecutor Sahdmadhi said there's some sections that need finalizing, but I'm working through the finished sections now." The formal title felt odd in Klavier's mouth with the taste of Nahyuta's tongue against his own so recent, but he kept up the strict professionalism.

Apollo let out a sharp breath like all the tension was leaving his body at once.

"[Thank the Holy Mother,]" he muttered as he reached into his pocket. His hands shook as he pulled out a joint and lit it.

"I'm Apollo Justice…" He swayed in place as he lifted it to his mouth and breathed deep. "And I'm fine."

Klavier felt his chest ache as he watched the display. All the energy had drained out of Apollo, leaving barely more than a shell of himself. He looked inches from collapse.

Apollo sunk to the ground, pulling one knee to his chest as he took another pull.

"I'm Apollo Justice, and I'm fine."

"Oh, Apollo," Athena's voice trembled as she covered her ears, tears swimming in her eyes. "I told you — it will all be fine."

"I needed to know," Apollo snapped, taking another drag.

Athena dropped to the ground next to him, fitting against his side as she ran her fingers through his hair. He leaned into the touch and Klavier's heart ached even more.

The two of them fit together so nicely. It was a pity that Athena was already in a relationship. Her girlfriend at Themis had been a delight to perform with, and she'd gushed about Athena with level of dedication that made Klavier doubt they'd separate any time soon.

"Gavin!"

Klavier's jolted back to attention. Apollo's eyes bored into him. "If Nahyuta is hurt, it is your job to make sure he steps down from the bench. I don't care how many times he tells you no."

Apollo took a deep drag and let it out in a tired sigh.

"I understand that is putting you in a difficult position, but that's why I'm saying it now. If anyone — especially Nahyuta — gives you shit, remind them that it's not your call; it's mine."

"Of course." Klavier's eyes burned, and his throat was thick. It hurt to see how much Apollo cared for Nahyuta — a hurt far deeper than mere jealousy. Klaiver couldn't help but think of the positively tragic expressions Nahyuta had made when the topic of Apollo came up.

"I'm sorry for lying, Apollo." Athena pressed on her necklace. A blue screen flickered to life in front of her. "There are so many scared, hurt people around here; the noise is overwhelming. I didn't want you to see how much it was affecting me."

Her fingers danced across the hologram, and her necklace turned blue.

Apollo brow furrowed, and he took another drag. "Yeah, I figured. You're not exactly subtle. Just be fucking honest next time."

Athena snorted softly and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"You should be careful, Fraulein," Klavier offered with a kind smile even as something dark rose in his chest. "Once you start smiling through the pain, it can be very hard to stop."

The irony of the statement hit him as the words were coming out of his mouth. He tried to drop the smile, but it stayed firm.

He turned away, not wanting to look at either of them, not ready to be cut open by four deadly perceptive eyes at once.

"Excuse me, I have a book to read," he said, his laugh thin and shaky as he walked away.

Heat burned in his chest, an emotion so thoroughly tamped down that he often forgot it existed. Frustration, he could feel — annoyance, too. On bad days, bitterness and cattiness would sneak through, but anger wasn't a productive emotion.

Chapter 13: The Importance Of Clarity

Nahyuta was out of his mind. He spent the day in a haze, doing everything on autopilot as Klavier Gavin spun in his brain.

The previous night felt like a fever dream. He almost convinced himself it was a dream when he woke, but the smell of Klavier's cologne hung on the blanket they'd shared — undeniable proof.

The smell made his head spin, an unfamiliar giddiness stirring in his gut. It was a feeling unlike anything he'd experienced before. His attraction to Apollo was one of devotion, a rock he could cling to in any storm. Klavier was a storm.

The storm had propelled the translations forward, it'd pushed Nahyuta to go to Klavier even without the full translation because he was so desperate to see the man again.

Nahyuta had barely restrained himself from throwing himself at Klavier as they ate lunch. Luckily Klavier seemed hungry for him as well.

Kissing Klavier in his locked office had felt like heaven, but he knew it was hell because it could only last a few moments, and then, it was back to agonizing over him.

He was already coming on too strong, but he couldn't stop himself from begging for more even as Klavier indulged him. He needed time with Klavier, to savor him, enjoy him.

He needed privacy to see if he could get Klavier to make that noise again — the beautiful, broken sob that'd ripped out of Klavier's mouth and through Nahyuta's chest.

After work, Nahyuta took a moment of privacy in his own room, remembering the feel of Klavier's throat against his palm, as brief as it'd been. He touched himself, trying to curb the feral desire rising in him. He touched himself to thoughts of Apollo and Klavier kissing, Apollo's hand firm against Klavier's throat as the man sobbed into his mouth.

The idea of the two them together turned him on far more than picturing kissing either one. He decided not to think too hard about why.

Apollo wouldn't be afraid to be rough like Klavier wanted, Nahyuta realized as he came undone.

With his body's needs delayed, he went straight for Klavier's residence. He was already horny again by the time he arrived and nearly decided to bail rather than face the humiliation of admitting how out of control he was.

Klavier's expression when he opened the door took all the wind out of Nahyuta's blustering sails.

The cheerful flirtation was gone, replaced by something close to fear. Nahyuta couldn't stomach the thought that he'd done something to scare Klavier.

"Look, we've gotta talk about something. I've got to talk about something. I probably should have said something earlier, but everything moved so fast."

Klavier let Nahyuta into the room. His shoulders were stiff as he tapped a folded photo against his palm.

"Have I done something wrong?" Nahyuta asked, his prayer beads dug into his hand and he tried and failed to stay composed.

"No, not at all, I just… I gotta make sure we're on the same page. No surprises."

Nahyuta nodded, a lump growing in his throat. He didn't believe the assertion that it wasn't his fault, or he didn't believe Klavier would tell him if that was the case.

Klavier handed the photo to Nahyuta, his arm straight out to keep Nahyuta at a distance. Nahyuta accepted the photo, but didn't look at it.

He waited patiently for Klavier to explain, far too aware that the man was hovering so close to the exit.

"That's a picture of my older brother and me, taken almost twenty years ago."

Nahyuta unfolded the picture, still baffled as to what he was supposed to find. It was old, the crease wearing thick white line between the two participants. On the right was a teenager that looked uncannily like Klavier, but with no warmth in his smile. On the left was a little girl in a sparkly purple dress, posing dramatically.

Except the little girl had Klavier's smile and his vivid blue eyes. Even her pose matched a pose Klavier slipped into whenever he was announcing something.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes." Nahyuta nodded solemnly. The picture felt heavy in his hands. He wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve the level of trust Klavier was giving him.

As he scanned Klavier's body language, it occurred to him that he hadn't earned the trust. This information wasn't offered up freely — it was offered out of fear because Nahyuta had escalated so quickly, it'd made the discussion an emergency.

"It's okay, then?" Klavier asked, far too quiet. "You don't seem surprised."

"These things happen." Nahyuta felt rough, rude. He had no idea the words that were safe, let alone appropriate. All he knew was that it wasn't something you talked about — that's what Dhurke had always said. "It doesn't change things… unless you want me to change what I'm doing? Whatever you need."

Klavier relaxed. He covered a laugh with his hand. "Don't worry, you've passed the test." His smile faded, and he chewed on his lip. "I do have one more question — one that might be inappropriate."

"Go ahead."

Klavier looked out the window, frowning. "The way you responded makes it seem like I'm not the first trans person you've encountered, is that correct?"

"Yes." Nahyuta replied cautiously. An odd sort of relief flowed through him to have a word in English to describe the concept, but wary that it might hold similar connotations to the Khurainese word— the word that always made Datz reach for his knife even before Apollo had his revelation.

"Apollo?"

Klavier's eyes locked onto him as Nahyuta's mind went blank. He knew any hesitation would answer the question, but he couldn't find it in himself to lie, especially not after Klavier had demonstrated so much trust.

"He's like me?" Klaiver asked, his voice trembling. "Right?"

Yes, Nahyuta thought, yes, he was. The fact that Klavier was like Apollo only turned Nahyuta on more. Shame burned in him as he realized that touching Klavier would feel like touching Apollo. The image of using Klavier's body, imaging it was Apollo the whole time, lit a fire inside him. He tried to extinguish the idea, but it lodged in his chest.

"Normally, I would deny it outright." Nahyuta sighed deeply and looked away. "It's not my secret to share, but you obviously know something and…"

Someone with a grudge against Apollo also knew his secret. That could be a coincidence, Nahyuta prayed it was a coincidence.

"How did you find out?" Nahyuta asked after a long pause.

"I…" Klavier looked genuinely guilty. "I stumbled on a thing. I should have left it alone, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. And once I started paying attention… I know the tells, noticed the little things."

The answer cooled Nahyuta's nerves. It made sense that Klavier had only figured it out because his own personal experience. That intrigued Nahyuta. He wanted to ask so many more questions — all of them deeply inappropriate.

"Have you told anyone?"

"Not a soul." Klavier put his hand to his chest. "And I'm not going to."

"Why ask then?" Nahyuta held out the picture, but Klavier didn't take it back. "Why trust me with this? You barely know me."

"Because…" Klavier chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes distant and sad. "It's rare. Transitioning so young, and going full stealth with no paper trail. I was only able to do it because my brother…"

Klavier's expression hardened, and Nahyuta looked back down at the photo. He'd been briefed by Ema to avoid the subject of Kristoph, but knew only that the man was in prison on at least two counts of murder. The smirking kid in the picture looked stern, but not evil like Ema claimed him to be. Appearances could be deceiving, unfortunately.

"He did everything for me." Klavier hands balled into fists at his sides. "When our parents died, he took care of me, got me the best doctors, changed all my documentation, and sealed all records of my old name. Someone did that for Apollo, too, and…"

"Dhurke." Grief tugged at Nahyuta's chest, just like it did every time he noticed the father shaped hole in his life.

As a young man, he convinced himself the hole would be temporary, that they'd be together after the revolution. After the revolution, they would be a family and Dhurke would teach Nahyuta how to be a great man like him.

It was a naive belief in retrospect.

"I was young when it happened, I don't know the details." Nahyuta said, his throat tightening as tears threatened to form. "But, I know my father treated Apollo like his own son. He did everything he could to make sure Apollo would be safe. Sounds a lot like your brother."

Klavier turned away, his hair covering his face. "You're too kind. Kristoph didn't care about me. I was a useful tool to him; nothing more."

Nahyuta heart ached as he took in the man in front of him. Stripped entirely of his usual veneer of confidence, Klavier looked small. No longer Klavier Gavin, the star, but Klavier Gavin, the man. That only exacerbated Nahyuta's longing.

"I understand more than you might think." Nahyuta approached Klavier, cautiously. He extended his hand. "I had to hide so much of myself under Ga'ran. A single misstep would have ended everything. I was her favorite tool, but she would have happily discarded me the moment I became inconvenient."

"Some days I wish he would have discarded me. Might have been less painful."

Tear shone in Klavier's eyes for a moment. His eyes fixed on Nahyuta's outstretched hand, but he made no move to accept the offer. Instead, he smiled and laughed as he brushed the tears away causally.

The smile didn't reach his eyes as he cleared his throat. "Sorry, for ruining the moment. Perhaps, we should try again tomorrow?"

Nahyuta didn't want to wait a single minute, let alone a whole day. He needed Klavier's mouth against his like he needed air. He needed to hold Klavier and kiss the tears away. He couldn't fix Klavier's wounds anymore than he could fix his own, but at least he could soothe the pain for a moment.

Approaching Klavier, Nahyuta placed a hand on his cheek and leaned in, but didn't fully close the distance.

Klavier's painted on smile melted and his eyes grew big. The sudden vulnerability in his expression only made Nahyuta pull him closer until their foreheads were pressed together. Their noses brushed and their breath mixed as, for the first time, it was Klavier that froze up.

All the soft warm feeling that'd been growing in Nahyuta's chest were pushed to the side by a wave of rage. Rage directed at the Klavier's brother and anyone else who'd committed the unforgivable crime of hurting Klavier, of making him doubt himself. Rage directed at the world itself for being so unfair. Rage directed towards himself for not being able to fix any of it.

He repressed the anger; it was something to feel when he was alone again. In it's place, he focused on emanating gentle affection.

He tiled his head until their lips met, pulled Klavier into his arms, and cradled him there as their mouths fit together.

Klavier jolted out of his frozen state, but his movements felt stiff, unsure. He wrapped his arms around Nahyuta, but the grip was loose, nervous. He was pulling away, not in the teasing way, but like he was anticipating rejection.

Anger tugged at Nahyuta's gut. He couldn't let this slight pass. There could no ambiguity in his interest.

His chest was so tight it made him lightheaded as he pushed past his nerves and grabbed Klavier. He pressed their bodies together greedily indulging his hunger.

A needy moan tore out of Klavier's mouth. He became pliant under Nahyuta's hands. He stumbled backwards, his arms around Nahyuta's waist pulling him along.

They crashed into the wall, and Nahyuta pinned Klavier. He forced Klavier's head back with a fistful of hair, biting down on his exposed neck. His hand slid from Klavier's hair down his neck and to his chest, fingers slipping under the deep plunge of his collar. He felt deranged, out of control, but with each break of control, Klavier moaned louder. Nahyuta could feel the vibration of each moan reverberate against his lips.

It made him want to give in. He wanted to get rougher and rougher until Klavier was screaming for him. The thought scared him, and he hesitated, his mouth resting on Klavier's jugular.

Fingers ran through his hair. and he could feel Klavier smile. "I'm not fragile, quite the opposite. You don't have to worry about hurting me."

He could feel the rise and fall of Klavier's chest under his hand as he finally touched the skin he always pointedly avoided looking at. His fingers dug into soft, plush muscle and Klavier's back arched into the touch.

Nahyuta sucked in a breath. He needed clarification. He needed to know exactly what he was and was not allowed to do with Klavier's body. He wanted to ask, but found his lack of vocabulary embarrassing. There was a minefield of words that were potentially too clinical, too childish, too gross, too lewd, or not lewd enough. Klavier wouldn't judge him, but it bothered Nahyuta.

Far worse was the prospect of switching to Khurainese. The idea of leading Klavier through words Nahyuta had only ever heard in poetry and dirty jokes wasn't sexy — it was mortifying.

"How far do you want to go tonight?" Klavier whispered against Nahyuta's temple. "You can fuck me, if you want. Or we can leave it here."

Nahyuta's mind went blank. The casual permission pulled at something deep in his chest. The straightforward confirmation of where Klavier wanted to go.

It was where Klavier already was. Nahyuta was miles behind.

Whatever was growing in him strained his heart. If he let it, it would grow too fast and crack him open. He needed more time to process, more time to research.

"I think…" Nahyuta mouth pressed to Klavier's neck, savoring the taste and the beat of Klavier's pulse against his tongue. "This is enough for tonight."

He backed away. Klavier watched his retreat with dark eyes. He stayed on the wall, his chest rising and falling quickly. Nodding wordlessly, he licked his lips, eyes tracing Nahyuta's body hungrily.

Nahyuta turned away from the stare and practically ran from the room. He was already ripping at the seams only to be hit with yet another earth-shattering realization. Touching Klavier meant Klavier touching him. Asking Klavier for his wants and needs would lead to those same questions directed right back at him.

Nahyuta was hyper-aware of how he looked and moved, but he rarely considered how he felt to touch. He didn't consider how he wanted to be touched.

People rarely moved into his personal space — many hovered around him nervously, like they weren't sure they were allowed to approach.

That had its perks. It was easier to hide things from distant people. But, he was no longer in hiding, no longer needed to play a role. He could ask for exactly what he wanted, if only he knew what that was.

Research, what he needed more than anything was to do some more research.

Chapter 14: Helping Hand, Sympathetic Ear

Klavier studied the bruise on his neck in the mirror. It looked good — tragically good.

He couldn't actually wander around with such an obvious hickey, as much as the temptation to do so made his blood run hot.

Pressing two fingers against the tender spot, he closed his eyes and luxuriated in the memory of the previous night.

Not only had he gotten confirmation that Apollo was, in fact, trans, but he had also unlocked another level of Nahyuta's passion.

Underneath his own desire, there was something that nagged Klavier about his newfound knowledge. Instead of feeling a sense of connection to someone with whom he had so much in common, he felt oddly bitter. Apollo had gone through almost the same thing as him, but instead of one cold relative, Apollo had a whole family that'd taken care of him. None of them had even been related to him, but they'd done just as much, if not more, than Kristoph. Dhurke was gone, but at least Apollo still had Nahyuta and Datz.

Such thoughts were silly, immature, petty. Pushing them out of his mind, Klavier pulled out his phone and moved back to his bed.He fell back onto the mattress as he opened his camera, easily finding the perfect angle to capture the mark.

Heat throbbed between his legs as he debated messages to accompany the picture. Most were far too explicit, as cute as it would be to see how flustered he could make Nahyuta.

Finally, he settled on the simple truth.

should cover this up with makeup but i kinda want people to talk

He put his phone away and entertained himself by imagining Nahyuta reacting to his message.

His hand slipped between his legs, palming himself through his underwear. It was rare that he got wound up enough to bother masturbating, but if he wasn't going to be getting off with his newest partner, he'd need to relieve the tension himself.

He pictured Nahyuta touching him. He pictured Apollo touching him. He pictured Apollo whispering filthy insults in Nahyuta's ear, telling the man how stupid and slutty Klavier was being.

Klavier's phone chimed, and he jumped to read the new message.

I'll try not leave marks in such a visible place next time.

Klavier responded without thought.

where will you leave them?

He stared at the message for a few minutes as his hand slipped into his underwear. His fingers were slick as he pictured Nahyuta's teeth against his favorite places: shoulders, nipples, inside of his thighs. It was easy to work himself up to a peak with images like that.

There was no response, but that didn't bother Klavier. He could get his answer the next time they saw each other.

There were plenty of excuses to talk to Nahyuta again. It was high time Klavier spent some actual time in Khurainese court now that he could follow along with the procedure.

His phone buzzed as his orgasm hit. He scrambled to check his messages, but instead of a reply, he was greeted by his weekly notification to do his shot.

He grumbled as he peeled himself up off the bed. The process was second nature to him at this point, and complaining was just one of the steps. There was an odd sort of pleasure to it, though, after all these years. In better times, he would look forward to the weekly spike in energy and libido, but his libido was already running out of control.

His still-sensitive dick throbbed as he stabbed the needle into himself.

It might be annoying, but it was more than manageable. Thinking about sex didn't interrupt his work anymore than thinking about music, but it would leave him feeling pent up.

As he tossed the needle into his sharps container, he wondered when Apollo did his shot. He wondered if Apollo would want any help. A silly thought, but one that made his dick hard all over again.

It wouldn't be an unreasonable thing to offer. A lot of people struggled with self-injection. The fact it came easily to Klavier wasn't something he'd considered taking advantage of before.

It was a very pretty image to ruminate on as he got ready for the day. His hands on Apollo's thigh, injecting the chemical that shaped both of them. Now, that was something he could turn into a song, or could have been turned into a song if he was out.

He sighed as he covered up the bruise with makeup, wishing terribly that he could let Apollo see the mark, just to see the man's reaction. Maybe Apollo's special eyes would be sharp enough to notice even with the makeup, if only Klavier could get him to look.

---

"Oh, you came?" Rayfa's face turned red as Klavier entered the dance chamber.

It was half an hour before the morning dance was set to start, and Rayfa was sitting on the stage, messing with her phone. She tried to hide the device as he came in, as if anticipating a scolding for slacking off.

"I don't think I'll play today. I want to see how everything moves behind the scenes, and of course, I'll need to learn the music," he replied casually.

Rayfa scoffed as she hopped off the stage. "Someone of your talent won't need to learn anything. I'm sure you can sight-read this music."

"That's true." Klavier accepted the compliment wholeheartedly. "But, I take my craft seriously. I wouldn't want my Khurainese debut to be a disaster because I got too cocky."

"Of course," Rayfa straightened her spine, "I wouldn't allow that anyways."

Klavier grinned wide. He missed performing with people who cared. By the end, getting the rest of the band to put in the necessary work had been a complete slog. None of them wanted to be the first to quit, and Klavier wasn't going to go through the fight of kicking them out. It would be an uphill battle, that would end with him being painted as a diva by the press.

"There's not much behind the scenes," Rayfa said as she looked around. "It's the same every day. Someone needs to push the start button for the lights and recording, usually one of the guards, but the rest is all me."

"Has it always been that way?"

Rayfa's shoulders slumped, and she looked to the ground. "No. I used to have help — too much of it sometimes. We used to change up the dances every once in a while too. Sometimes, it was to improve the choreography as I matured, but sometimes, it was just for fun."

"What's stopping you from doing it now?"

Rayfa laughed. "I have no skill for lighting design, nor the desire to learn. There are other songs that can be used in the rite, but I lack acceptable recordings of them. It's best to use what I have."

"I don't think you'll need much adjustment in the lighting department," Klaiver pointed out. "And I can make a recording of any song you'd like."

Rayfa looked away, obviously frustrated that her surface excuses hadn't worked.

"You've never choreographed something on your own before?" Klavier asked gently.

Rayfa hackles rose, and she gripped her staff tight. "It was not expected of me, not at my age."

"Of course," Klavier laughed, and Rayfa bristled even more, "That's perfectly normal, but not something I can help with. My style of dancing is not what most would consider 'appropriate' for a religious rite."

Rayfa nodded, and Klavier made a mental note to ask around for anyone willing to help. He was certain many would refuse, but there had to be someone willing to give Rayfa the second chance she needed.

His thoughts jumped to Inmee, but he was unsure of reaching out to someone still in mourning for a loved one she'd lost because of the cruelty of the courts.

"We can go in the back and practice the dance a few times." Rayfa shifted from foot to foot, rolling the staff between her hands. "If you have the time."

Klavier felt the weight of the law book in his arms. He was making good time, and there was no real deadline. He was loathe to waste more time, but he did really miss performing. It would be good practice, if nothing else.

"I have time."

---

"A far better performance than yesterday." Rayfa bounced up to Klavier with a bright smile. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Klavier returned her smile. "Most definitely! You seemed happier, too."

Rayfa's face reddened as she shrunk. "I'm merely excited at the prospect of never having to hear that version of the Song of Ceremony again," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and looking away. "But, I will not deny, you did well. Far better than that [▇▇▇ from ▇▇▇▇▇▇] that was playing for me before."

Klavier chuckled. He pushed back the urge to ruffle her intricately styled hair. He remembered all too well how perceived condescension had pissed him off at her age, even as he grew to understand exactly why adults had reacted to him like that.

"I think I'll skip the afternoon performance today," he told her. "I was planning to sit in on court today."

Rayfa raised an eyebrow. "Ah, yes, we're resuming English trials. I will need to practice the new terminology."

"Perhaps you could help me?" Klavier asked, not wanting to let her go too soon. "I have a few questions about your… part of the proceedings."

"The Divination Seance." Rayfa back straightened, pride shining in her eyes. "I mastered it unusually young… If only spirit channeling were so easy."

She deflated slightly, and Klavier pulled her back to the easier subject at hand. "How often are you called to do that?"

Annoyance played on Rayfa's face as she rolled her staff between her hands. "My brother has been pushing to only use it when there is insufficient evidence; he thinks I can't handle it."

"Is that what he said?"

"It was implied."

Klavier sighed. It was a delicate situation and an even more delicate conversation. It was more than understandable that Nahyuta wouldn't want his little sister to be forced to witness countless murders, but Rayfa had already seen so many. It was her norm at this point.

"What does Minister Justice think?"

"I don't care what he thinks." Rayfa's voice went suddenly sharp.

"Why not?"

Rayfa's brows furrowed, her knuckle white as she gripped her staff tight. "He doesn't respect our culture and traditions. He sides with my brother because he thinks the Divination Seance is unnecessary."

"I don't think that's intentional." Klavier placed his words carefully, still feeling like he was on the verge of losing all his progress with her. "There are no seances in our country's courts. He's used to working without it — both of us are."

"It's not just that." Rayfa huffed. "He insists that we must compromise our culture in order to join the modern world. He refuses to engage in basic traditions such as living in the Minister's quarters and wearing the cuffs of justice."

"The cuffs of justice?"

Rayfa's jaw tightened as she glared off to the corner of the room, toward an empty pedestal tucked against the wall. Whatever had been on display had been gone for long enough that dust had begun to gather on the stone surface.

"The cuffs of justice are expected to be worn by the Minister of Justice. It is one of the highest honors in the country, but Horn-Head refuses because he'd rather wear his own jewelry than follow tradition."

"If I may," Klavier kept his tone friendly and gentle, "His bracelet isn't a mere piece of jewelry. It's a tool that helps him in court."

"I know." Rayfa's tone verged on petulant. "I've been told many times, but surely, he doesn't need to wear it all the time."

"Maybe he could use some time without the lie detector," Klavier agreed with a sigh. He did wonder sometimes about what it was like to sense lies so easily. There were so many reason for people to lie; most are not even malicious. Often lies were easier, kinder— Klavier far preferred not knowing.

"Exactly," Rayfa said, but Klavier knew their seeming agreement was based on two very different lines of reasoning.

"Out of curiosity…" Klavier changed the subject away from the bracelet (it was the one thing he was certain Apollo wouldn't compromise on.) "If you had to pick one concession, one sign of goodwill from Minister Justice, what would you want from him?"

Rayfa paused, tilting her head as she pondered the question. For a moment, she looked far older than she was, the crushing weight of royal responsibility visible in the tightness of her jaw and the harsh grip on her staff.

"I don't need Horn-Head to kiss my ring. What I want is to be allowed to participate in governing the country I am meant to inherit," she said quietly, all the tension of restraint held in her body now instead of her voice. "I know, of course, that is unreasonable. I am young and woefully ignorant. My very presence complicates even the simplest of matters."

"You're not as ignorant as you think. What would you want to do?"

Rayfa looked taken aback by the question, but as she straightened herself out, it was clear she wasn't unprepared. "I am ignorant. That is not a judgment, it is a fact. I was deprived of knowledge by everyone around me… but I cannot blame my ignorance on my parents any longer. I need to…" Red rose in Rayfa's cheeks, and she glared at the ground. "… learn."

"All you want is a teacher?"

"Not just a teacher!" Rayfa huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "My parents erased any and all history that was inconvenient to them. They destroyed records, painted over inconvenient murals, and sold precious national artifacts. Anyone that spoke out were censored, driven out, and executed. I must work to undo what they've done, but so much of this happened before I was even born… I don't know where to even start."

"Asking for an education isn't unreasonable!" Klavier laughed, and Rayfa bristled, disbelief obvious in her frown. "I'm serious!" He snapped his fingers with a grin. "Surely, your brother—"

"My brother is busy enough!" Rayfa snapped, her sudden hostility enough to make Klavier drop his smile. "Any request from me will be considered top priority, and I don't wish to waste his time at this crucial moment."

"That's…" Klavier bit back a sigh. "…understandable."

"I will make my request… someday." Rayfa straightened her spine, looking away wistfully. "Hopefully, soon, but until then, I will attend to my duties of dance and seance alone." Rayfa deflated as she spoke, despite her tone remaining sharp and regal.

Klavier put on his most sympathetic smile even as excitement tugged at his chest. It was an easily solved problem ( not by normal standards, but problems that were too easy to solve never kept Klavier's attention). The solution would take some time and some luck, but he had plenty of both.

Clearing his throat, Klavier gestured at the door. "I need to get back to reading through the legal books now… unless you wanted to help me."

Rayfa jolted to attention, her eyes shining as she nodded.

Chapter 15: Research

The first thing Nahyuta discovered about Klavier, after typing his name into the search bar, was that there were a lot of pictures of Klavier Gavin.

He'd known that, obviously. Klavier was famous, and he wasn't afraid to let everyone around him know that.

But, there were so many pictures of Klavier Gavin. There were pictures of him wrapped in tight leather and chains. Pictures of him with his shirt half off, or no shirt at all. Pictures of him smudged with grease, draping himself over a motorcycle. Pictures of him dripping with sweat under hot concert lights.

There was an odd tameness to them. They were all suggestive, but none were explicitly sexual. Klavier's smile had the plausible deniability of innocence, but Nahyuta now knew that innocence was a lie.

Not a lie, he thought as he looked further, it was a persona. That was expected of any celebrity, but Klavier's persona was far less interesting than Klavier Gavin himself.

As Nahyuta flipped through articles and interviews, he got the picture of a talented, but stupid, young man who did what he did because it felt cool with no deeper artistic reason.

The music matched the persona, Nahyuta discovered as he let some songs play in the background. Nahyuta followed Apollo's advice, skipping all everything that was explicitly about cops and found several songs that wormed their way into his ear even as the lyrics slid off his brain. They inspired no emotion, no connection, but were extremely catchy.

And, of course, Klavier's sweet voice and talented fingers were worth the middling lyrics. Even the most boring song was an excuse for him to flex, to hold everyone's attention as he teased a crescendo bit by bit until the grit came out in his voice and the guitar soared.

Nahyuta may not have been a musician, but he understood the rhythm of poetry and could recognize the technique, the skill.

He reluctantly pulled himself away to do some more translations. They were close, so close to being done. He worked his way sluggishly through some more, letting himself take one last break before tackling the final section.

He pulled up a random video of Klavier playing live. Well, not entirely random — it was one where Klavier was wearing nothing but chains draped over his chest and extremely tight leather pants.

Nahyuta leaned in, fully absorbed in the way Klavier danced with his guitar like it was a part of his body. The music sliding off his brain freed him to think about other things as the video played. Other things like: Klavier's fingers dancing up the neck of his guitar, Klavier's muscles bulging against the chains wrapped around his arms, the outline of Klavier's abs clearly visible as his stomach clenched on a high note.

where will you leave them?

The message remained unanswered on his phone. He could imagine so many places to leave marks on Klavier. He wanted Klavier like a ripe, juicy peach in the heat of a summer afternoon. He wanted to rip into him, taste him, devour him whole and lick the juice from his fingers.

He wasn't ashamed of sexual desire, but he was ashamed of the way it was currently consuming him, stripping him of rationality. Where was his control, his discipline?

"Hey, Yuta?"

Nahyuta slammed his laptop shut, leaning forward to put his elbow firmly on the top of the lid as he tried to smile serenely.

Apollo hovered near the door, annoyance playing on his face.

"I heard you finished the translations," he asked not quite looking at Nahyuta, "I'm kinda surprised I had to hear it from Klavier… yesterday. I thought you'd…"

He trailed off with a frown.

Nahyuta cursed himself internally. "They aren't all done," he said, slowly easing off his computer. "I merely thought that you'd appreciate me giving Prosecutor Gavin a bit of a head start. I have one more section, then it will be done."

"I appreciate it a lot." Apollo relaxed, a smile playing on his lips. "What are you researching now, Yuta?"

"Nothing!" Nahyuta could feel his face burning. The topic of his time-wasting binges was embarrassing at the best of times. He would rather die than let Apollo see how many tabs were currently open to pictures of Klavier.

"Oh?" Apollo's grin widened. He moved behind Nahyuta's desk, leaning over his shoulders. "What has got you, of all people, so shy?"

Apollo's hands came to Nahyuta's shoulders, and Nahyuta wished to be transported to a far less cruel hell (or at least a less ironic one).

"Come on,"— Apollo's breath brushed Nahyuta's ear. — "How embarrassing could it really be?"

Nahyuta had barely been holding back his desire before, but the blood rushing south couldn't be stopped. He wished he could open the laptop and show off his humiliating new obsession. He wanted Apollo to tease him about how silly and over-the-top his stupid crush was, about how desperate, how pathetic it made him look. He wanted Apollo to notice the tightness in his pants, to reach down and feel how much Klavier was effecting him.

"Not now." Nahyuta voice wavered, and he tensed. He didn't want to act as desperate as he felt. "Not this time, Apollo."

Apollo jerked away, moving to the other side of Nahyuta's desk. He tried to hide his scowl, but Nahyuta still caught the tension in his brow and jaw.

"Sorry," Apollo muttered, picking at a loose thread on his vest. "I'm serious though: I really, really appreciate you getting these done. I know it sucked, but it's done and…"

Apollo took a deep breath, leaning on the desk with one hand.

"What are you going to crusade about now?" Nahyuta asked, bitterness seeping into the lighthearted joke he wanted to make.

Apollo winced. "I'm going to crusade for you taking some time off. Even if it's not full days, get some fucking rest."

Nahyuta looked to his left to see a box full of papers he had to look through and make decisions on.

"Yuta! Stop that!"

A foam ball bounced off Nahyuta's head and he turned back to see Apollo grinning cheekily at him. The ball fell to the desk, and Nahyuta picked it up. He rolled it between his fingers, trying not to give Apollo the satisfaction of a smile.

"How will assaulting the Regent of Khura'in with a projectile weapon serve your crusade?"

Apollo's eyes shone mischievously as he leaned in and snatched the ball back. "That's not just any projectile, that's a gift from Athena, for physical therapy."

"I doubt that's how it's supposed to be used."

"I dunno; I think it's working." Apollo tossed the ball up a caught it again, his smirk growing.

Nahyuta settled back in his seat with an exasperated sigh only for the ball to smack him in the face again.

"You stop that!" Nahyuta swiped at the ball, but Apollo snatched it away again.

"Come on, think of some things you want to do that you've been putting off because of work. Do more research, add to your tattoo, do craziest drugs you can find." Apollo paused before amending his statement. "Okay, maybe not the craziest, but have some fuckin' fun."

Nahyuta sighed, not letting his eyes off the ball Apollo was currently squeezing with shaking fingers. "I've been forced to put off spending time with you recently."

Apollo froze, slowly releasing his grip. His eyes fell to the ground and his smile waned.

"You're right," he muttered and placed the ball down on the desk. "It's not a great time now with Athena here, but tomorrow's her last night, and she'll be out with Blackquill all evening. We can do whatever you want then."

"Whatever?" Nahyuta leaned in, fixing Apollo with a sharp stare.

Apollo shifted awkwardly, still not looking at him. "Yeah, anything you want."

"Let me massage you again."

A sharp breath left Apollo's lungs. His hand rose to his chest as pink rose in his cheeks.

"Of all the things," Apollo looked away, closing his eyes, "that's the only thing you want?"

Nahyuta shifted forward on his chair. "Not the only thing, but…"

He waited for a moment, hoping that Apollo would look at him and see the truth in his words. The one time he wanted Apollo to use his power, the man was refusing.

"I've thought about it every night since," Nahyuta admitted.

Apollo's cheeks glowed pink, and his brow furrowed. His eyes remained closed as his shoulders curled forward before he let out another sharp breath.

"So have I." Apollo's words were pushed out of his mouth like it physically pained him. "That oil stuff, it helped a lot, but I can't reach most of the spots that need it by myself."

Nahyuta lunged across the desk to grab the foam ball. Apollo jolted at the movement, but wasn't fast enough to dodge to projectile lobbed at his face.

"Why didn't you tell me that before?!"

Apollo pouted as the ball bounced off his forehead. "I was already bothering you for the translations all the time! I didn't want to bother you with that, too."

Nahyuta took in a deep breath. Anger swirled through his body. Paragraphs of rants he wanted to throw at Apollo appeared fully formed in his mind, daring him to unleash every bitter thought he'd had since that night.

"First," he said, forcing himself to avoid the pettier options, "It's not 'bothering me' when it's something I actively want to do. It 'bothers me' far more when you only come to me with unpleasant, complicated problems. Second, even if I'd been unable to help, I would have—"

A loud knock on the door cut Nahyuta off. He closed his eyes and centered himself, pulling away from the anger.

Apollo opened the door, and Ema poked her head in. "Oh boy, just in time to interrupt a lecture. You're welcome, Apollo."

Apollo rolled his eyes and turned back to Nahyuta. "Can we talk after court?"

Nahyuta nodded, his annoyance dulling the flutter of excitement in his chest. He was making progress, at least he hoped he was.

Apollo took his leave as Ema stepped up to Nahyuta's desk. She stood firm, not in her usual manner of confidence, but something more… defensive. "Hey, bossman, question for you."

"Go ahead." Nahyuta took a deep breath, pushing aside his annoyance with Apollo.

"At risk of offense," Ema said, grimacing for a moment, "does anyone actually know how much of a face is needed for spirit channeling to work?"

The question made Nahyuta pause. The "correct" answer was, of course, that only the queen knew exactly how much was needed. Rayfa still didn't have enough experience to know, which meant there was only one way of finding out— a path he didn't even want to think about.

"I'm not sure what you mean," he said.

"Has anyone studied the limits?" Ema pulled out her notepad. "For example: how much do things like eye or hair color matter? Would a black and white photo be sufficient? What about a drawing? How accurate would that need to be? In digital pictures, would blurry or heavily pixilated pictures still work? What happens if parts of the face are cut off? Can a picture of a baby be used to summon someone who died as a adult?"

Nahyuta put up a hand to stop her because she was clearly not even halfway through her list of questions.

"I would not be familiar with details like those. It's a sacred secret."

Ema sighed. "Look, I get it. I'm not saying we should be bringing back the dead for shits and giggles, but knowing this stuff is important if I'm gonna figure out the standards of evidence."

Nahyuta nodded slowly. "No, you are correct. There are a few historians that were permitted to work with certain government secrets. I can put you in contact with one."

Ema tugged on her hair with a frown. "Nah, you got enough on your plate. I just wanted make sure I wasn't wasting my time. I can find the names. Plus, I've already reached out to the Fey clan for their information."

"I can always rely you." Nahyuta smiled and opened his laptop. Quickly closing the incriminating windows, he opened his schedule. "But, you're in luck. Later this week, Datz will be meeting up with an old professor friend of his from the resistance days. I'm sure he'd be happy to connect the two of you."

Ema beamed. "You really are the best, bossman!"

Nahyuta smiled in return and steeled himself for a conversation he was both dreading and strangely excited for.

"I'm almost finished with these translations." Nahyuta tapped the work on his desk. "Do you know what that means?"

"Yeah, of course, I'm gonna have to work with more prosecutors," Ema pouted, but her expression remained fond as she leaned on Nahyuta's desk. "I'm going to miss you; most prosecutors suck."

"I won't be quitting the legal profession entirely." Nahyuta smiled briefly in return, but quickly returned to the point. "Prosecutor Gavin will only be taking on some of my cases."

Ema's eyes went wide, and she smacked her hand against her forehead. "Oh, fuck, I was trying so hard not to think about that that I completely forgot."

"If there's going to be an issue, we can work on finding a mediator."

Ema hand slid off her face, revealing a stubborn frown. "No, that'll just waste time and staff. I can be professional so long as he knows he's not my boss anymore. If he comes at me with some dumb shit, I will shut him down."

"I'll ensure he understands that." Nahyuta relaxed slightly.

"I appreciate it," Ema said in something approaching a sincere tone.

The professional discussion was over, but he had far more questions about the issues between the two. He steeled his composure while thinking of how to keep his tone light and casual as he pressed for more information about the man taking up way too much of his brain space.

"If I may, why do you dislike him so much?"

Ema grimaced as she pulled out a bag of snacks. "He's annoying, and he treated me like shit, next question."

"Was he… different back then?" Nahyuta shifted awkwardly in his chair. His faith in Ema's ability rarely wavered, but her descriptions of Klavier were at direct odds with Nahyuta's experience.

The discrepancy nagged at him. Ema had no shortage of grudges. She kept a ledger of people that hurt her and those she cared about, and normally, she was more than willing to list out her grievances.

Of all the stories she told, Klavier's was the vaguest and the crimes she specified were minor at best… Which meant there was something else. Just like there was something else under Klavier's simple, vacant answers in interviews.

"I wouldn't know. I avoid him as much as possible." Ema shrugged the question off, even as her brow furrowed and anger flashed in her eyes. She pulled a snack out of the bag, shoving it into her mouth.

"You will have to talk to him regularly soon."

Ema's mouth pressed into a line. She swayed slightly, staring off into space as she took her time chewing.

"I don't hate him anymore, really. I understand what he was going through, and I can sympathize, but that doesn't mean working for him didn't suck ass. He wasn't a bad guy, but he was always stressed, always taking on way too much work. On top of that, he was such a micromanager! Kept hovering and checking my work, like he didn't trust me to do my job. I thought he didn't respect me, but…"

Ema's eyebrows twitched upwards as she made a judgmental noise. "I got to know more of the people he usually worked with, and I get it now."

Nahyuta sighed and nodded. Her description of Klavier was finally starting to match up with his own, but there were still parts missing.

"Do you mean the police?" he asked.

"Yep!" She snorted derisively. "I wasn't forced to deal with the music people— at least not the ones that weren't also in the band."

"But, you did have to work with the band?"

Ema leaned back, groaning loudly. "All the time! They took for granted that I would drop anything to help them, even though I was only supposed to work for Gavin. I tried to complain, but he took their side every damn time."

"That must have been hard." Nahyuta paused, not sure if he was taking the questions too far, but he had to know more. "Were you a fan of them before?"

Ema rolled her eyes before looking at Nahyuta incredulously. "You're joking, right?"

"Not at the moment."

"Huh, yeah… Guess you wouldn't know." Ema frowned, tugging on her hair as she looked off. "The thing is: The Gavinners were just breaking out when I was in school for criminal justice. Everyone listened to them, and everyone had something to say about 'em. So, I know more than any human should about the fucking Gavinners."

"What were your opinions?" Nahyuta asked, barely curbing his still growing interest.

"Oh!" Ema looked startled at the question, quickly reforming the words she'd been about to say. "I disliked them on principle at first, but at a certain point, I just got bored of hearing about them all the time. Though, I'm not gonna pretend that I didn't hate-listen to, like, everything they made. Fingerprints on My Heart is the their best single hands down, but otherwise," a rude smirk played on her lips, "peaked in the second album."

"Why do you say that?"

"They stayed big by staying safe."

Nahyuta leaned in, silently prompting her for more.

Ema made a face. "Don't laugh," she said, pointing at him firmly.

"When have I ever laughed at you?"

Ema sighed and relaxed. "Okay, look, I wasn't joking about hate listening to everything. They made catchy generic stuff for the singles, but the actual albums had some really interesting stuff… At first. Then, every album had more and more generic singles and a lot less of the interesting stuff. Gunna Lock You Up is total garbage compared to You Can't Handle Me, I'm Evidence and Raised By (The) Force."

Ema huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, her pout twisting her face. "No one's even heard of my favorite song: Couch For A Bed, Law Book For A Pillow."

A smile tugged a Nahyuta's lips. "Maybe I should listen to it."

Ema's eyes grew wide, and she waved her hands in front of her. "No need for that! It's not that good — really unpolished actually —, it's just…" She deflated, tugging on her hair again. "Promise me you won't tell him I said any of this."

"I promise," Nahyuta agreed without hesitation.

Ema took a deep breath. "The song is about sleeping on couches in the courthouse while waiting for his brother to get out of court. One verse mentions finding a couch that'd been defaced by another kid, and the description was so specific… it has to be the couch in lobby 3 — the comfiest one in all of LA —, and I know that because… I'm the one that left the marks while waiting for my sister."

Ema fiddled with her notepad. Her shoulders were tight as she chuckled dryly. "I wonder sometimes if I would've still hated him if I met him back then — if I hadn't had to move to Europe."

"I…" Nahyuta swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry, I've never asked about your family, have I?"

"You have." Ema shrugged the apology off. "I told you my sister's a lawyer in America, and we get along really well. That's true, but the full story's a lot more complicated: She gave up everything for me, but she was also… not there for a while. I resented her for that when I was young, but I… we patched everything up."

Her words brought back a memory of a conversation that Nahyuta had barely processed. All he'd really heard was that she didn't have any grievance with her family, but it was clear he'd missed a lot of implication.

"Don't feel the need to disclose more, but I'm willing to listen if you want to talk," he said, trying his best to hide his shame.

Ema laughed, her tension melting away as she rose back to her full height. "Don't count on it, bossman. I've come to terms with all that heavy stuff, but I am super willing to bitch about the glimmerous flop more."

He mirrored her stance as the tension flowed out of him. He laughed softly and shook his head. "I want to finish this before court starts, but maybe another time."

"You know where I'll be." Ema saluted as she rose to her feet.

As she took her leave, Nahyuta debated whether to follow up on her suggestions immediately, but he knew he didn't have time to fall down another rabbit hole. He wasn't about to go another day with this law book hanging over him.