#''long hair and pretty. sounds like nahyuta''

[the-bar-sinister]

Chains of the Dragon (29283 words) by thesavagesabretooth

catch up here

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October 3, 2028– 5:50 pm 

It had been a long flight. A really long flight. Klavier had been on some long flights before, but this one might have taken the cake. 

He felt like his skin was made of bees and his stomach was made of sandpaper. He had his sunglasses pushed up on his nose to protect himself from the evening sun, and he walked close to Ema as they made their way through the marketplace.

Still, despite it all, despite the nerves and the tension and the lack of sleep, he kept the smile painted on his face.

"Some place, huh, fraulein!"

“Yeah, it’s pretty neat, huh?” Ema chuckled, though he could tell it was forced. She was shuffling along, her eyes dark even over her lazy smile as she hugged her bag to her side. “I have to admit, part of me really loved being here for a while. The tea’s fantastic, the food’s great, and you can’t say it ain’t interesting.” 

"You must have been having a good time, ja? While we're here, you'll have to show me the sights." He moved to slip his arm around her waist as they walked.

Ema flushed, and for a moment she seemed about to protest before she leaned into him with a sharp laugh. “I’ll give you the grand tour. Knowing you, if I left you alone you’d get grifted by Ahlbi or something.” 

"Me? Grifted? Never! I am simply a generous soul who likes to let his assistance flow freely." he laughed and tossed his hair, but she could probably tell how glad he was that she didn't push him off her. The crowd was overwhelming to his sleepless mind. "So where are we going exactly? You said something about a palace, but I might have been mistaken."

“I’m taking you to the palace.” she pointed to a large and ornate structure in beautiful pinks and blues on a rise just outside of the main town. “Specifically we’re going to go see if Yuta…Lord Regent Nahyuta…can set us up with some temporary lodgings that aren’t just on the temple floor again.” 

"Lord Regent Nahyuta, hmm?" He cocked his head. "Sounds like the two of you are close. I had no idea that you were dating a prosecutor prince, fraulein– no wonder a humble rockstar doesn't impress."

Ema flushed brightly. 

“...why the heck did you jump right to ‘dating’, Klavier? And get outta here with that sadboy over-humility. ‘Doesn’t impress’, my ass.” 

He laughed and brushed his hair out of his face again. "Sorry, fraulein, perhaps I'm just intimidated. I'm a little out of my element, but it seems you're right at home here. Probably Apollo is too, ja?"

Ema huffed, and tucked her hair over her ear with a little pout. 

“It’s not like LA, I was shell shocked too when I first got here. But it kinda grows on you. Maybe it’s the air.” She walked a little closer to him “...anyway, yeah. I guess I am dating the prosecutor prince– so maybe that’ll score us some good beds.” 

"I would hope so! Sounds like it will for you at least." He gave her a sly look. "So you are dating, ja? And here you were trying to imply like I was reaching in my deduction,"

“All I said is it was kinda desperate to assume, Klav.” She huffed up at him with a sly smile “...but yeah. He took a liking to me, and I took a liking to him. We’ve had a thing going for a little while now, since I got assigned to him. Took him out to his first American cheeseburger.” 

"Oh that sounds like a fun time, fraulein! You should take me out for an American cheeseburger as well!" He teased lightly, his fingers playing a guitar riff on her hip as they walked arm in arm. He hoped that the needy loneliness didn't seep into his voice.

It must have, as he caught her looking at him with a funny look. “How about I take you out for a Khura’in dinner instead? You know, for the novelty.” 

He flushed and ducked his head. "Ach, well, if you insist, liebchen, I certainly won't say no! So, you are dating the prosecutor prince– how about Apollo? Does he have anyone here?"

He hurried the conversation away from himself, but in his haste accidentally stumbled on another topic that might be construed as insecurity. Of course Klavier was not at all insecure… even though Apollo had ditched him.

Ema rubbed her neck. 

“Uh…kind of also Nahyuta, Klaiver. And me, honestly. We’ve been getting closer, you know?” 

"Oh." Klavier turned it over in his mind. Apollo and Ema. And this prosecutor prince. He could start to see why Apollo wasn't bothering to call home. He pushed the thought aside. "Well! That sounds like we're likely to get decent accommodations then, ja?"

“Either that or a three hour sermon.” Ema snickered like it was some private joke as she bumped his shoulder .“I'll give it 50/50.” 

"A sermon, fraulein?" he chuckled with her despite not quite understanding the joke. "Oh! Is he the monk that Trucy was talking about?"

“If Trucy was talking about him, I uh…imagine you’ve got a pretty skewed impression of him, don’t you? I think she’s still pissed about the Gramarye trial. Not that I can blame her of course…but yeah, he’s a monk of the Holy Mother and an international prosecutor.” 

"I'm afraid I didn't actually get much of an impression of him at all through her babbling. She was very upset," Klavier said. 

As they walked he glanced a little at the strange buildings and the bright colored clothes and strange, almost festival atmosphere that was so different than a typical street in LA..

The two of them passed a small group of Khurainese men and women talking excitedly near what seemed to be a weathered old electronics stall, as the words ‘plumed punisher’ rose clearly out of what was otherwise a foreign language to Klavier.

The sky was bright and blue, and the air was crisp and sharp to the lungs with none of the familiar LA smog.

“Poor thing.” Ema sighed as she gave the people a wave– at least one of them waved back as if he recognized her. “He’s a pretty good guy, honestly. He could be a little…cold…during trials, sure. But he had his reasons. Things weren’t great for him.” 

"Oh no?" he cocked his head. "Well he's a prosecutor, and not all of us are so warm and cuddly as I am, ja? But what do you mean things weren't great for him?"

Ema looped her arm around him in a sign of shocking public affection for her, and started scrounging in her coat pocket thoughtfully.

Before them the great temple loomed and caught the light in a glistening starburst, and off to its side, the gilded palace and its high walls.

Hanging from flags and banners, Klavier saw the somewhat familiar shape of a reversed magatama– or was it something else?

Ema sighed as she pulled her snackoos from her pocket and offered him some. 

“Oof, she didn’t even talk about that? Nahyuta was the son of a defense attorney. A defense attorney who became a rebel after being accused of murdering his wife.” Her smile grew grim “and the doctrine at the time said the sins of the father will be visited upon the child’.” 

Klavier took the offered snack and put it in his mouth thoughtfully, surprised both by the gesture and show of public affection. Ema must feel very comfortable here– or she was worried about him. He wasn't sure which it was. Either way he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"I am starting to feel like I didn't ask enough questions when I rushed out here," Klavier drawled. "If I'd asked them– I would have come even faster. The sins of the father visited on the child– what an evil doctrine."

He shuddered, trying not to think of his own father. Of course, there was a shield between him and his own father's sins…

“Yeah, I hated it when I first heard it…hate it still.” Ema grimaced as she munched miserably at a snackoo.

A small child bustled past Klavier, chasing after a bird with a laugh, which lightened Ema’s expression before she sighed and continued.

“Nahyuta’s father was an exile, accused of killing a queen, and he grew up in the mountains with Apollo as a child of revolutionary guerillas. Only, Nahyuta wanted to change the system, so he became a prosecutor with the intention of subverting and changing things from the inside.”

She put a snackoo in her mouth, pausing to let a yak walk past with its owner, then she continued. 

“but his aunt caught him in a trap. She’d recaptured his recently born little sister, and threatened him with her future. ‘Do everything I ask, or I get her labeled the daughter of a murderer and let her suffer’. He didn’t wanna let Princess Rayfa suffer…and he was already treated like dirt because of the sins of the father rule, so he wound up becoming Ga’ran’s pet prosecutor until Mr. Wright and company managed to get her deposed.” 

The story of abuse pulled Klavier's attention away from the exotic and adorable yak, and he grimaced.

"Mein gott… that's terrible! Tell me that something changed, fraulein? It sounds like you are leading up to something better?"

A older sibling shielding the younger by sacrificing their own honor. No wonder Ema found herself falling for this prosecutor prince. How much like the sister she looked up to he sounded.

“Well…he’s been made regent, and Rayfa the princess, so there’s at least that. The DC act…which ah, made it so defense attorneys would be executed with their clients, was overturned. And I know he’s wanted to try to change perception on the ‘sins of the father’ belief…but it takes time.”

Ema’s fingers flexed against his before she tugged him past the yak. “Things are looking up, we’re trying to fix it, but it ain’t going fast because nobody’s wanted to risk becoming an attorney again and people are stuck in their ways.” 

"I'm sorry, fraulein," he began as they entered the shadow of the looming palace, "Did you say that they were executing attorneys?"

“Uh huh.” Ema grimaced. “Holding them to the same punishments their clients got. ‘As representing and attempting to save an unclean soul spoke to the uncleanliness of your own.’ It made you just as guilty in the Queen’s eyes. Of course…it was a terror tactic to keep control of her people at the end of the day.”

She looked at Klavier, as he noticed a knot of people by the doorway. A young woman and a number of what seemed to be attendants were heading off towards the temple to the distant sound of soft bells. She didn’t seem happy, the young woman, but at this distance he couldn’t see much of why.

“The accused didn’t even get a trial. They just did a dance to witness the last moments of the victim and went off the assumptions because ‘the dead never lie’ .” 

Klavier's gaze lingered on the unhappy young woman for a moment before they were drawn back to Ema. He shook his head.

"Ema… fraulein that… that's monstrous…" He found he could hardly wrap his mind around it. "Our own court system is hardly perfect. Flawed. Ripe for abuse. But that…"

“Was evil, right? Yeah. It was. But Mr. Wright tried to stand up against it and basically strong-armed them into giving a proper trial to save Miss Maya and Ahlbi…a kid…from execution. Now Apollo and Nahyuta are trying to fix it in the long term, that’s..”

She nibbled at a snackoo with a frown. “That's why they’re working themselves so hard here, Klavier. It’s that or let things like the old justice system slide back into power.” 

"Okay…. I can sort of start to see why Apollo might be having difficulty coming home," he murmured. He glanced up at the palace, pausing in front of the long pool of water that stood before it.

Ema looked down into the water “yeah. That’s kind of why I’m not keen on forcing him back. Something’s gotta be done, you know?”

Their reflections were perfect in the clear water…it was almost divine, in it’s way. A perfect mirror to the soul without even a ripple from the gentle breeze.

“Come on. I think you’ll like Yuta. Just…don’t take anything weird he says to heart. I think it’s his way of teasing.” 

October 3, 2028– 6:20 pm 

Ema had been able to get them past the guards at the door without an issue– one look at the forensic scientist and they seemed to recognize her instantly and wave her inside.

However, they’d been told that Nahyuta was currently out for the moment on an errand and would be back relatively shortly. After a bit of reassurance and Ema’s demand to be let known the moment he returned, she wound up giving Klavier a bit of a tour around the place’s first floor to kill time.

He’d gotten history lessons, clearly relayed from things she’d been told recently, and a number of anecdotes about the happenings in these very halls from ‘that’s where Mr. Wright basically told the Justice Minister to go fuck himself’ and ‘this was used as a prop in the plumed punisher’.

Klavier didn’t know exactly how much time had passed when the sound of footsteps and bells rang through the air from the doorway of the hall.

“...such disrespectful…evil….cruel…nasty…” the voice was high, feminine and youthful, and it seemed every syllable was punctuated by another ringing of bells “when they find th–”

The voice abruptly stopped with a gasp “Miss Skye?” 

Klavier turned with curiosity at the sound of the voice. He knew the sound of young ladies' voices– whoever it was sounded about the age of a typical Gavinners fan.

He saw a young woman, a girl really, standing in the center of the hall with her hand over her mouth in surprise.

Her dark hair was wound in intricate braids that looped behind her head and held it out of her wide and piercing eyes. She had tattoos over her face, marking underneath the eyes and in the center of her forehead, and wore a long white and green trimmed shawl over a pink dress. When she moved, Klavier saw that her arms were connected by a long ribbon that trailed from one bell-clad cuff to the other.

Ema turned with a grin and a sudden bow–one where she put her hand against his back and tried to push him down into one as well.

“Good morning, Your Benevolence.”

Klavier was quick on the uptake– and while he wasn't one to bow and scrape to royalty, he wasn't above doing so for a young girl, especially one Ema was willing to do so for. He took the encouragement and more so, sweeping into a court bow.

"Good evening, meine Prinzessin," he said– teasingly correcting Ema's jet lagged estimate of the time, and giving the greeting his own personal flourish.

The girl relaxed somewhat, before she slowly walked towards them with the ringing of the bells around her ankles.

“Main Princess Sin? What is this silliness your friend spouts, Miss Skye?” the girl asked with a pout that seemed more curious than upset. 

 Ema snickered,

“It’s German, your benevolence. The glimmerous fop here’s always been fond of it.” She bumped his shoulder. “Klavier…meet Princess Rayfa Padma Khura’in. Future Queen of the country and a friend of mine.”

The girl dipped into a curtsy with a gentle smile “Good evening, Mr. Glimmerous.” 

Klavier straightened up when Rayfa did, and flipped his hair with a bright and charming rock star smile. "Please, Prinzessin, my friends call me Klavier. Of course– you may call me anything you like."

If there was one thing that made him feel more comfortable after no sleep and in a foreign country– it was putting on a show. That much at least was practically normal.

The princess put her finger to her chin, looking deep in thought for a long moment with a soft ‘hmmm’.

After a moment she smiled. 

“Alright, Shaved Head.” She tapped her chin again– Klavier admittedly felt a little sensitive at the name. Only part of his hair was shaved after all… maybe he never should have… “or is Gold Head more appropriate?”

Gold head he liked better.

Ema had started to snicker into her hand. “Here we go…lucky man, you’re gettin’ one of Princess Rayfa’s famous nicknames.”

Rayfa kept her triumphant grin, before she tilted her head “are you another forensic scientist, Mr. Klavier?” 

"Who, me?" He beamed brightly at her. "No, unfortunately I have no such luck to be among those esteemed ranks. I'm merely a prosecutor and a former rockstar, I'm afraid, prinzessin."

“Rock star…?” Rayfa paced a little closer with a curious glint in her serious eyes. “You don’t look like a rock to me. I’m not stupid. You DO look like the sorts of prosecutors that Braid Head spoke of back in the states, though.”

"Forgive me, prinzessin, my guitar is with the rest of our luggage for now, ja?" he rubbed the back of his neck. "Admittedly, for the moment I am more prosecutor than rockstar. Who's braid head?"

“......” Rayfa stared at him for a long moment, before she turned to Ema in exasperation. “why does he keep calling himself a star of rocks?” “Remember Pees'lubn Andistan'dhin?” Ema murmured to her with a look of amusement. “...and his music that he broke out during the trial? That’s rock music. Klavier’s just as loud as the guy but like, a hundred times nicer.”

Rayfa sniffed, and tossed a lock of her hair over her shoulder. 

“So you’re a rockstar…or were. Yes. That makes sense. I knew that.” She pointed with a smile “If you’re a prosecutor then I’m glad to have you here, gold head! Braid Head could use some help!”

"Braid head?"

She paused a moment before she waved her hand “Miss Skye. Explain.”

"...that’s her nickname for her big brother, Klavier. Nahyuta.”

"Ahhh, of course, I should have known," Klavier nodded graciously and filed the information away for later. "I have heard he is also a prosecutor. In fact, it's him we've come to meet today."

Rayfa seemed to suddenly become excited, leaning forward with a palpable air of excitement “are you here to help him prosecute the retrials faster?”

“Ehhhh…” Ema waved her hand from side to side. “Sorta, kinda. We’re actually looking for a place to sleep first.” 

Prosecute trials faster– it wasn't what he'd intended but if that was what was keeping Apollo from LA it wasn't the worst idea he'd heard either.

"Indeed, prinzessin. We came to the country to visit my good friend, Apollo Justice. Perhaps you know him too?"

“HORN HEAD!” Rayfa’s smile spread across her face. “Yes! Apollo Justice is one of my gr–” she seemed to catch herself, and composed herself into a far less excited affect, her voice dropping and her smile growing muted as she nodded after glancing nervously over her shoulder.

“Apollo Justice is a good friend of the crown.”

Ema must have known what was happening from the way she quietly grimaced and glanced off to the side “Yeah, she’s taken quite the shine to me and Justice. I’d call us great friends.” 

"That's wonderful to hear," Klavier nodded. He chuckled at the epithet. Horn head suited him. Maybe even better than 'forehead'. "I've always thought that herr horn head needed more great friends, ja? Perhaps you're a good influence on him, meine prinzessin."

She covered her mouth with her hand, perhaps hiding the fact that the big grin had returned. 

“I’m simply the best influence on everyone I meet…and I was such a good influence that horn head helped me save a few flowers from my garden just the other day!”

Ema turned towards her with a frown. “...wait, what happened to your garden?” 

Klavier felt something in the back of his brain light up at the exchange and he put his arm around Ema with a big, affected smile. "Didn't you hear her, fraulein? Apollo helped her save them, ja? Wonderful."

Ema’s expression didn’t brighten. 

“...that’s good to hear, ” she murmured as she half fell against Klavier, who put his arm around her. “I’ll see if I can take some time to keep an eye on them while I’m here, your benevolence.”

Rayfa’s fingers hid her mouth again as she nodded. 

“Of course. If it makes you comfortable you are more than welcome, Investigator Skye…but yes. Horn Head is a wonderful man, and I am certain I’ve only ever been a good influence upon him.” She checked over her shoulder again before she whispered. “By the way, Investigator…can you teach me more about luminol later?” 

Klavier watched the interaction with interest. He wondered if the princess was interested in detective work– or just interested in spending more time with Ema. Lady Justice knew that talking about forensics was the best way to get her attention.

Ema’s expression finally lit up, her muted anger evaporating into a big grin “well. If you have time, your benevolence…I’ll bring my kit and I’ll give you another lesson, okay?”

Rayfa squeezed her hands together with a look of genuine excitement in her clear green eyes.

“Thank you, Emma. I’ll request that mother give me some time to prepare.” She tilted her head at Klavier “....you, gold head.” 

Actually interested in investigation then. Now wasn't that interesting…

He performed a little bow for her. "Ja, prinzessin? How may I be of service?"

She peered at him with her arms crossing over her chest. “You and Miss Skye are close, are you not? You’ve got your arm about her. Are you her paramour?”

Klavier laughed and flushed, pressing his hands to his chest over his heart. "Ah well, who truly knows the heart of another? Fraulein, am I your paramour?"

Ema turned a bright red, and she started to sputter like a teakettle “YOUR BENEVOLENCE!” She whipped to look at Klavier “don’t encourage her!” she spit.

“It is a simple question.” Rayfa huffed with a note of petulance in her tone. “I simply wished to know if I should invite him to the lesson. He could tell me of prosecution in the United States…and perhaps more about rock music.”

Ema pressed both hands to her face , making a keening sound. 

“Paramour….what the fu—frick kind of…I…hhh….” She looked up with a voice that came out nearly a growl “I suppose yes. In his way.” 

Klavier smiled broadly– and naturally this time– rather delighted by her response. "In my way, ja. And prinzessin, I would be most happy to teach you of prosecution, and rock music too."

Rayfa looked satisfied, and dipped into a low curtsy. 

“Then I shall look forward to both your company, barring unfortunate incident or my duties.”

Ema was rubbing her face as she nodded “yeah, should be fun…”

"Perhaps we can do that after we catch up with this lord regent Nahyuta? Unless you could be so kind as to extend us accommodations, prinzessin?"

“I …can.” she admitted with a thoughtful rub of her chin again. “in a fashion. But perhaps you’d best speak with Nahyuta. I’m still going through my lessons, after all.” 

"Ja, no problem there, prinzessin," Klavier said with a smile. "We're just waiting for him now– no trouble in waiting a little longer."

“If you would like, you can wait in the garden.” Rayfa said as one of the guards approached her and whispered in her ear. She nodded seriously before smiling “that’s where his lodgings and palace office are, after all..” 

Klavier chuckled. "Only if Ema declares the grand tour to be over. I haven't seen the garden yet, in any case."

Rayfa pouted again, her hands on her hips. “It's the most beautiful part of the palace! Ema, you simply must! By royal decree!”

Ema held her hands up with a tired smile. “Of course, your benevolence. Come on, glimmerous fop. Let’s go look at Rayfa’s flowers. They really are pretty.” 

October 3, 2028– 6:45 pm 

Klavier happily trailed after Rayfa and Ema to the gardens. He had always expected that if he was in a palace it would be to play a rock show, but somehow the truth was far stranger and in some ways more magical, in its way. If tragic, too. What would Apollo say when he saw him?

Still he kept the thoughts in the back of his mind, and kept his tongue and the room happy talking about his old band to the princess, who seemed quite curious about it.

But as they headed out into the palatial gardens out of the dimly lit halls, Klavier heard another voice speaking.

"I can move a guard detachment here on a permanent basis if you command it, your grace," a gruff voice offered.

“As loath as I am to allow it, given the calm and sanctity of our garden– I’ll give it due consideration, captain.” The voice answering was anything but gruff. It was rich and soft spoken, elegant yet surprisingly deep. “Either way, I’ll ensure such a display does not happen again.”

Rayfa’s eyes widened at the sound of the voice, and she vanished running past the verdant foliage towards it.

“What in the blazes…?” Ema murmured “something’s happened?” 

Klavier cocked his head too, curious. "Some kind of incident it sounds like, fraulein. Shall we investigate?"

He grabbed her hand and tugged her forward after Rayfa– though at a bit less of an urgent pace.

Ema nodded, as the two of them hurried past the lattice and under the overhang that lead into the garden, and out into the sprawling green expanse….

The garden was beautiful, certainly…with green swaying grass and sparkling ponds surrounding cobblestone paths and walls leading to royal residences and two tall pagodas at it’s far ends…Klavier could see where brightly colored pink flowers mingled with others…though…far less than expected for a palace garden.

It looked like large sections had recently been torn out.

It was by one of those recently uprooted sections that a figure stood with Rayfa and a sharply uniformed palace guard near a section of wall.

The figure beside Rayfa put his hand on her head as she seemed to grow increasingly angry at whatever was on the wall before them. She had begun to physically shake as they whispered something down to her.

They were striking. A beautiful and androgynous figure with long and flowing white hair tied in a braid that reached their legs, clad in a stiff white coat with a high collar and pants that were lined with gold that caught the sun, and clasped at the elbows with golden bangles. Long eyelashes lay half lidded over brilliant green eyes, and painted lips murmured comfort down at the furious Rayfa.

Caught in the wind, a scarf of filmy fabric framed them like a halo as they looked over their shoulder at the two of them.

“Ah, visitors…I’m afr–”

They paused before smiling with what Klavier could only imagine was recognition and even subtle affection “Ah, Investigator Skye. I was hoping you might return soon.” 

Klavier could immediately see what Ema– and apparently Apollo– saw in him. Looking at him felt less like looking on a man and more like looking at some beautiful godling descended from one of the enchanting heavens. A strange mixture of jealousy and desire welled up in Klavier's heart and he felt a familiar urge.

He swept into another bow. "Ah, mein engle, you must be the prosecutor prince that I have not heard enough about, ja?"

The guard standing behind Nahyuta, armed with an AK-47 gave Klavier a hairy eyeball, but Klavier didn't pay attention to that.

Nahyuta smiled, a small and subtle thing, and huffed a quiet breath as his fingers formed a position of prayer, middle and ring fingers forming a circle with his thumb and his pinkie and forefinger extended…one hand pointing up and the other down.

“Prosecutor Prince…is that how you’ve been describing me, Miss Skye?” He turned his eyes to Klavier after they opened again. He seemed to scrutinize him for an instant before he pointed his extended fingers towards him.

“...Klavier Gavin. Of the Gaviners. Am I correct?”

Ema had gone rigid and flushed “no! The prosecutor prince thing is Klav—” she paused “...wait you KNOW him???” 

"I'm honored to be recognized in such a far off land, mein prinz," he purred, his smile widening especially at Ema's flustered reaction. He rose slowly from his bow, looking Nahyuta over one more time– but subtly. "I am afraid the Gavinners are no more, but I remain. A humble prosecutor– humbler still in such magnificent company, ja?"

Nahyuta chuckled quietly under his breath, and as he shifted position Klavier could see the source of Rayfa’s fury…someone had painted something over the wall’s surface. She was still shaking over the guard when Nahyuta seemed to look over Klavier for a moment himself, with a subtle flick of the eyes. He was a tall, lithe figure..with delicate fingers and the tattoo of a coiled dragon against his palm. He tilted his head, and his hair shifted against his cheek.

“I’d listened to a fair bit of your discography while I was studying the culture of LA in preparation for my trials.”

“My condolences to your ears, Nahyuta.” Ema snickered, though like all of her barbs about his music it lacked any real venom.

Nahyuta chuckled at that. 

“I found it…interesting, dear. If I recall, I’d gotten some of the recordings from your office” He took a step forward and offered his delicate hand “there is no need to humble yourself, Mr. Gavin– really it’s I who should be humbled that you’ve come to visit our country, though I wish the circumstances weren’t so…”

“HEINOUS! EVIL!” Rayfa stomped her foot behind him “How DARE THEY!”

“That.” He gestured towards her with a soft sigh. 

Klavier tossed his hair out of his face as he straightened up, and peered over at the offending wall. Graffiti had been sprayed across it– very dire looking piece of graffiti indeed, even at first glance. It depicted what seemed to be dead and wilted flowers, over which was written a broad slogan in letters that Klavier couldn't read.

"Ah," Klavier nodded. "What a shame— there's been a crime committed, ja? What does the slogan say?"

Nahyuta pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“Indeed. ...it says ‘Khura’in belongs to the people’. “ He glanced up at him “...you’re close with Investigator Skye, no? If so I can trust you with this. There’s been some…unrest, as of late. Unrest we hadn’t expected after the deposing of Queen Ga’ran.”

Rayfa had started to sniffle, but pressed her hands to her face to stifle them “...it’s my fault.” 

"Unrest, I see," Klavier nodded and stroked his chin. "Of course, mein prinz, you may trust me implicitly. As for fault, I hardly see how it could be yours, prinzessin?"

Nahyuta shifted to put his hand on Rayfa’s shoulder with a concerned furrow of his brow. 

“it couldn’t possibly be the case. Even Mr. Gavin agrees.” he sighed “...it seems some of our Defiant Dragons, the group my father organized, have decided that the whole monarchy must go rather than simply the singular bad ruler.”

Ema walked quietly up to the graffiti and began to examine it with a frown. 

“Huh…wonder if we can get a handwriting analysis…track down who made it…or maybe there’s some traces left…hair stuck in the paint, or something.”

Rayfa stomped her foot again, and turned. Her face was red and tears glistened in the corners of her eyes as her fists shook in front of her. 

“It’s …it’s…it’s my fault because they hate me for my father an…for Inga and Ga’ran! They must see me as a …a spoiled little imitation of them!” The way she spat the words, they sounded like someone else's. 

Klavier raised his eyebrow, and glanced from Rayfa to Nahyuta, to Ema. He was starting to get a sense that he didn't like.

"Well, prinzessin, I think fraulein Ema is right– we must track down this criminal and see what they have to say for themselves, ja? Somehow I doubt that you are the source of their complaints, but if you are, then they can see for themselves how wrong they are– don't you think?"

Nahyuta nodded slowly. 

“...that perhaps would be for the best. I’ll increase the guard and set up a perimeter…we’ll investigate and see if we can Holy Mother willing, find and bring the culprit to justice and understanding. Will you assist us in this, Mr. Gavin?”

He glanced at Ema with that subtle smile again “Investigator Skye is already on the job, of course. And I’ll have to send word to Apollo and Datz to have them visit the Defiant Dragons sooner than we’d hoped.”

Rayfa sniffed, and wiped at her eyes. “how wrong they are, indeed…” 

Klavier reached out to put his hand on Rayfa's back– then he looked at the guard with the gun again, and stopped. He had no idea if it was acceptable here to put a hand on royalty. He'd heard stories about people getting their hands cut off.

He knelt, instead.

"Your majesty, in all the stories I know, a princess is a symbol of hope and strength for her people. A shining star to be cherished and admired– much like a rock star for Americans, ja? I am sure that for your people, it is no different."

Rayfa blinked at him in surprise, her eyes going wide under her fringe of hair. 

“...oh..oh my, mr. Gold Head…a shining star to be cherished and admired, like a rock star…”

Nahyuta put his hand to his chin with a subtle smile “interesting analogy, but I can concede to the logic. He is, as expected of a prosecutor, correct. For our people it is no different…save for in the hearts of those who wish to stir trouble in their ignorance.” 

"Criminals with troubled hearts," Klavier said, shaking his head. "A princess should pity someone like that, not take their words to heart, ja?"

He stood up again and brushed his hair out of his face and looked to Ema. "Fraulein, would it be appropriate for me to take a photograph of this graffiti? I have a friend in America who might be able to tell us something useful about its dubious artist if she sees it."

Rayfa nodded as she wiped at her eyes. “...of course. I won’t take their words to heart, Mr. Gavin…I’ll endeavor to find pity for them.”

Nahyuta placed his hand on her back for a moment before he hummed. “a friend who can speak to the nature of graffiti?”

Somehow Ema snapped out of her scientific haze enough to whip around and point to Klavier “snap away. If you’ve got an expert, then you’d better get them on the line asap.” 

Klavier pulled his phone out of his pocket, and centered a photograph of the graffiti. It might take a while before it got enough of a signal to get to its recipient, but he'd do his best.

"Ja, I think Ema maybe knows her. She is in the police academy right now, training to become a forensic scientist. But she's already a master of art analysis and detecting forgeries.Fraulein, you remember Vera Misham?"

Ema stepped out of frame, before she snapped her fingers with a smile. 

“ah! Of course I remember Vera.” She chuckled “...actually, I’d been really happy to hear she’d gone to the academy. And you aren’t wrong, if anyone can analyze this , it’s her.” 

"Obviously we'll want to compare it to any other graffiti that might be seen around here, ja? But my assumption is we don't have a lot of examples to compare it to."

Klavier had switched from one type of performance to another. Honestly, he loved to perform as a rock star– but prosecution– investigation– was even more compelling sometimes. A mystery was so wonderfully distracting.

“Not terribly many, no.” Nahyuta hummed with his fingers once more in prayer “but there’s some in some of the old Defiant Dragons safehouses and bases.”

Ema brushed her hair out of her face, and bent down low over the ground with one hand in her pockets. “Let’s get some photographic proof of that…in the meantime, I’m going to see if I can find any traces…Yuta, is my ad-hoc lab still up and running here?”

“But of course.” he closed his eyes “it’s an earthly attachment I couldn’t bring myself to remove. Not with the threat of one of your own sermons hanging in the air.”

“Tch.” Ema smirked, “good. I’ll run some tests if I find anything.” 

"Sounds like the game is on, ja, Fraulein? Finding our accommodations can wait."

Ema looked up with a broad smile. “the game’s afoot, Klavier. Who needs rest when we’ve got a mystery?!”

[beauzos]

WIP snippet two: The Pawn.

Stops in the middle of a fucking scene cause I felt like it wasn't working and stepped back, but the scene is honestly... fine? I might rewrite it though. Including the half-scene just for the sliver of Datz content.

This one is the main WIP I intend to get back to, about Nahyuta becoming a prosecutor. I'm still hammering out the pacing of the first few chapters, but at the very least it starts here.

When Nahyuta gets off of the bus at the edge of the little town, they don’t head straight for the mountain. They’re pretty sure they haven’t been followed, but old habits die hard. They’re used to taking random turns down streets to ensure no one is trailing them, a careful balancing act because if they look lost, then someone will start to notice them as they’re trying to disappear. But no one follows them from the bus stop, and no one even looks their way on the street. After they’re satisfied that they’re wholly alone, Nahyuta cuts their way into the jungle that creeps into the edges of the town, following a barely visible trail that they know like the back of their hand. They haven’t been back here in a couple of years, but Nahyuta doesn’t think that they could ever forget. Visits to town were rare for them—their distinctive appearance made them stick out like a sore thumb, providing unwanted attention to Dhurke and the Dragons. Today, they’ve hidden their long, silvery hair under a cloak and hat to avoid any trouble.

Nahyuta follows the twists and turns of the worn path, over tangles of vines and dense shrubs that dot the jungle floor. The sun is dipping well below the horizon, leaving only a splotch of light blue to guide them to their destination. The bus was late; ideally, they would have made it back hours ago, but they know their way, even in the dark. They use a flashlight they packed for worst-case scenarios that dimly flickers, but still provides enough light to help them avoid stepping on a snake that lazily slithers along their trail. The jungle blackens with every passing minute until the dying flashlight is all they have left to see. Their eyes adjust best they can to the dark, but the dense, lush flora doesn’t help them.

A fire burns in the distance, an orange light that pushes the darkness away. Nahyuta heaves a sigh of relief, but they stay on their toes. It could be Dhurke trying to light their way, or it could be a stranger, someone Nahyuta needs to avoid interacting with at all costs if they could help it. Still, they press onwards towards the light source like a moth, but they turn off their flashlight as they draw closer. As soon as they do, someone emerges from the other side of the fire, and although they look large, almost unmistakable, Nahyuta’s breath still catches in their throat and they hesitate. A deep man’s voice calls out: “Hey! You’re not scared, are you? Don’t you recognize your dear old dad?!” Nahyuta would know that booming voice anywhere, and as soon as the sound fills their ears, they smile, and speed up their walk to a careful run.

Out of the jungle and into a clearing by the rushing river, Nahyuta can better see him now: Dhurke stands proudly, his left arm still in a cast, cradled by his coat. But he pulls his arm out and drags Nahyuta into a bear hug with his good arm, the other awkwardly going around their back. Both of them groan at the sheer force of the hug, but Nahyuta can’t help but grin. When Dhurke finally lets go, Nahyuta catches their breath. Dhurke examines their face in the firelight, and brushes their cheek with his thumb gently. Then, he grins right back at Nahyuta, his eye crinkling with delight.

“Were you this tall last time I saw you?” he asks with a laugh. “Good Lord! You’re as tall as me, kid! I always remember you being about, oh…” Dhurke measures out Nahyuta’s height with his hand, and places it at his hip. “Yeah, about that height. When’d you grow up? Last I checked, you were twelve.”

“I’m eighteen!” Nahyuta objects lightheartedly. “Whether you like that or not.”

“Hey, I never said I didn’t like it, just that I couldn’t believe it. Someone check the court record here!” He sighs, but still, he smiles. “I guess you must be eighteen, considering you got quite the attitude now. Didn’t Abbot Inmee teach you inner peace and respect for your elders and all that? What did we send you to that monastery for?”

“I believe you said it was for my own safety,” Nahyuta shoots back. “I don’t see where I agreed to learn anything.”

Dhurke laughs. “Yuta, the biggest joke of all is you trying to tell me you don’t want to learn.” He points an accusing finger in their direction, then taps their nose with it. “Well, I sure hope you learned something. You were there long enough. How long again? Fifteen years?”

“Seven, on and off.”

“Oh, Holy Mother… it’s really been that long?”

It was inconceivable even for Nahyuta, they had to admit. They were in and out of the monastery throughout the years, coming home when Dhurke said it was safe to, spending holidays and summers back in the mountains. It was only the past couple of years that Nahyuta hadn’t been able to return. Another uptick in violence against the Dragons had Dhurke insisting Nahyuta stay away, lest they draw unwanted attention to their main camp and they would all have to move again, for the fifth time in as many years.

Dhurke throws his good arm around Nahyuta’s shoulder and ushes them towards a set of chairs around the fire. “We’re waiting up on the others. Datz and some of the Dragons had work to do tonight. I would’ve gone, but…” He shrugs. “Well, someone had to come and meet you.”

Nahyuta settles into a canvas chair with a frown. “I apologize for being late, the bus—”

“No, no! I’m not saying that, kiddo. Trust me, we wanted to avoid having to do anything today, but we couldn’t pass up the chance. Datz wants you to wait up for him. He’s dying to see you again. He’s been talking about you coming home more than me!”

Those words warm Nahyuta’s chest and heart, and they can’t help but smile.  “He still remembers me?” Nahyuta jokes. “I’m honored.”

“Yeah, just barely,” Dhurke replies with a wave of his hand. “Everyone’s excited to see you, though. We’re glad you’re coming home for good. This place has been missing you—missing everyone’s kids, honestly.”

The constant insecurity of the Dragons’ lifestyle had not lent itself to safe childrearing. Nahyuta was not the first and far from the last to be sent away to live elsewhere while the Dragons got their affairs in order. Apollo was the first. Nahyuta still thought of him from time to time, wondered what he was up to, if he was safe back in America, if he even remembered Dhurke or Nahyuta anymore. Nahyuta themself had been sent to live at a monastery just a year after Apollo was sent away. Ga’ran had snatched their mother and sister right out from under their noses, slipping into the Sahdmadhi home without anyone noticing while Dhurke and Nahyuta were out one day. Dhurke was disturbed by how easy it was, and he didn’t hesitate to keep Nahyuta out of her claws for a while.

It had been seven long years of ascetic training and religious study. Nahyuta liked it, truthfully. It was stable. It was calm. The Holy Mother didn’t judge, didn’t care who they were or where they came from, and to their surprise, very few of the monks-in-training at the monastery cared either. The Sahdmadhi name meant nothing to them. Nahyuta never forgot about the Dragons, but they liked it at the monastery. They had finally been ordained as a monk just a few short weeks ago, around the same time that Abbot Inmee was being named the new high priest. He would be moving to the big monastery in the capital, and that was when Nahyuta decided to take their leave. They could not guarantee that Inmee’s replacement would be so understanding of Nahyuta’s rebel background the way the sympathetic Inmee was.

Dhurke could barely contain his joy when Nahyuta had told him over the phone that they would be returning home shortly to figure out what to do next. What they had not told Dhurke was that they had made up their mind about it already. Nahyuta shifts nervously in their chair. They had pictured this conversation many times, considering the different directions it could take depending on Dhurke’s reaction. Now that they were in the midst of it, Nahyuta suddenly had no idea how Dhurke would react. The welcoming smile and proud gleam in his eye helped, but would Dhurke like the idea…? They couldn’t get the words to leave the tip of their tongue. They swallow, grip the tough canvas fabric of the chair.

“…I’ve… been thinking, actually,” Nahyuta starts hesitantly, words stilted and awkward. “About… my life. What I will do now that I’m finished with my training.”

“Uh oh.” Dhurke laughs in that booming way that echoes into the empty night. Nahyuta shrinks a little, discouraged, but Dhurke leans over to pat their hand. “Yuta, it’s all right. I knew this was a possibility. You want to keep being a monk, don’t you? I can help you find another monastery that’ll keep you safe since Tahrust—”

“I was… thinking of something else, to be honest.” Dhurke closes his mouth dumbly as he sits up to demonstrate that he’s paying attention. “I love being a monk, it’s true. I feel as though serving the Holy Mother is my calling in life, but… I know also that she is calling me to other work as well.”

“What are we thinking, then?” Dhurke studies Nahyuta closely, narrowing his eye till the white burns with the reflection of the fire. “You wanna be a rebel like your old man?”

Nahyuta’s mouth is sticky with dryness. “Yes.” Dhurke can’t hide the sly grin that fills out his mouth. “In a sense, that is. I don’t think I’d be useful on raids or missions such as the ones you and Datz do… I know it’s not my destiny, as much as I would like to help. I realized that there are more ways for me to help than that.”

“So?” Dhurke holds out his hands, expectant. “You’re dancing around it, kiddo. Look, I trust you and your judgment. You’re a kid with a good head on his shoulders, and I’m sure you’ve been thinking about this for a long, long time before making up your mind.”

Nahyuta smiles meekly. Dhurke can still read them like a book sometimes. They twist a long, silvery lock of hair around their finger as they think over how to approach this. “I want to become a lawyer,” they spit out before they can reconsider. Dhurke raises his thick eyebrows in surprise. “I know I am a quick and efficient learner. I love to learn, and I know I can do whatever I put my mind to. When I think about one of the biggest issues with the Defiant Dragons, it pertains mainly to the legal system itself, does it not? People jailed and executed without any defense. Ga’ran may have driven the defense attorneys underground, but it can’t last forever. I’m not afraid to put my life on the line for this. I want to protect the people who need it most. I can become a defense attorney if I just—”

“Nahyuta, no.” Dhurke’s words slice right through Nahyuta’s, and their mouth hangs open in surprise before slowly shutting in a frown. Their father smiles at them, but this time, it feels condescending, like he’s trying to let down a foolish child gently for their outlandish ideas. His eye has a hard gaze that shows how he really feels. “It’s suicide. You wouldn’t be helping anyone if the courts are stacked against you from the start. They’ll put you to death by the end of your first trial—if you even get that far.”

Seeing the crestfallen look on Nahyuta’s face makes Dhurke sigh, his eye softening. “It’s not like I don’t think you’d be a great lawyer. I think you could be. You’re smart as a whip and can spot tiny details a mile away. And you love arguing with folks.” He pauses, hoping Nahyuta will smile, but they don’t. Dhurke leans forward, resting his arms on his thighs. He looks so much older in the firelight now, dejected.

“Nahyuta, it’s just… it’s not safe.” Nahyuta opens their mouth to reply, but Dhurke stops them with a hand up. “And I know, I know. Being a Dragon is unsafe already, and that’s part of being in the revolution. But being a defense attorney is a guaranteed death sentence in this country still. It’s why none of us have stepped foot in court since the laws passed. Don’t you think I��d love to be defending my fellow Dragons in court if I could? Wouldn’t we all love that?”

“Someone has to be willing to do it,” Nahyuta murmurs. “Willing to… make the sacrifice and demonstrate that we aren’t afraid of the consequences when we seek the truth. Or else we may never have defense attorneys in the courtroom again.”

“It’s a waste of a life filled with so much potential to do good is what it is. Yuta, I know you can go so far in life if you just… keep your head down at the right times. Learn to pick your battles, in other words.”

“I thought a dragon never yields.”

“They don’t. But a dragon doesn’t go looking for fights he knows he can’t possibly win, either. Nahyuta, if we weren’t careful about picking our fights, we’d all be dead or in prison by now. I know you want to help, and I’ve always hoped you would, but your help is worth a lot more if you stay alive. They’ll kill you. I couldn’t take it if something happened to you. I’ve already lost your mom and Rayfa. I can’t lose you too.”

Guilt starts to gnaw at their stomach. Nahyuta draws their arms close to their body, one hand reaching up to feel for a well-worn set of prayer beads around their neck. They had expected Dhurke to say no. It was a clear possibility they had accounted for. They just hadn’t expected the way Dhurke had gone about it. Nahyuta had so many ways to explain and argue their point, but all of them have floated into the ether by now, left useless by Nahyuta’s dumbstruck brain. Dhurke doesn’t expect them to say anything, and for a few good, long moments, both stare into the fire that crackles and pops softly.

“We can find something you can help us with,” Dhurke eventually says, breaking the silence as carefully as he can. “You’re right. You’re quick to learn new things, and that makes you versatile as all hell. You could help us plan things, make sure things go smoothly. We can even teach you how to fight, really fight, not just for self-defense. Nahyuta, I’d be honored to have you as an official member of the Defiant Dragons. Just, please. You have to trust me here. Becoming an attorney is a dead end right now—dead in more ways than one.” Dhurke scoots his folding chair closer to Nahyuta and grabs both of their hands. “We will find a place for you. There is always a place for you here.”

“No… no, you’re right. I’m sorry, Father.” Nahyuta feels Dhurke squeeze their hands affectionately. “I simply thought… if I could just follow in your footsteps, that I could make a difference in this legal system. I can’t stand the thought of people going to prison with no one to defend them. There are so many Dragons who need us—”

“I know. Like I said… I wish I could be there defending them. But hey, you’ll see me—us—in the courtroom again one day. You can count on that. And when it’s safe, you can be right by my side and we’ll work together, all right? We’ll be the dynamic defense duo!” He beams at Nahyuta. It’s enough to make them smile a little. “Everyone’s going to learn to fear the Sahdmadhis all over again.”

“I hope so.”

But how could they ever get there if no one tried? That question still plagued them, although they knew Dhurke was right. It was a guaranteed death sentence. Nahyuta had felt the anxiety inside when they imagined the terrible ways it could go, but would becoming a martyr truly be so bad? Sometimes, it was what a revolution needed. But Dhurke would never allow it. Nahyuta dashed the thought from their mind, although deep down, they still felt the itch. They’d read all about Dhurke’s old cases, knew them inside and out. They wanted to be like that, this commander of the court, standing strong against any prosecutor that crossed his path. Khura’in needed another lawyer like Dhurke. Perhaps, one day, Nahyuta would finally be that lawyer.

Nahyuta lies awake that night in their bed, unable to command their brain to sleep despite their exhaustion. They couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation they’d had with Dhurke earlier. While they’d talked about plenty of other things that evening, Nahyuta’s mind was stuck on the thought of lawyers. With no sign of Datz well into the night, Dhurke had convinced them to turn in for the night, but here they were, awake as ever. There had to be some way for them to do this without getting killed. There had to be some way they could convince Dhurke that this could all work out with the right execution. There had to be…

Hours later, well into the night, Nahyuta heard Datz returning. Though they couldn’t make out the exact conversation with Dhurke—still awake, just the same as Nahyuta—they could hear their name being passed back and forth between the two. They made out some other loose words—lawyer, suicide, everything that tells Nahyuta that Dhurke was getting advice from Datz about Nahyuta. Something about that embarrasses them deeply, and they feel themself turn red. No need to tell Datz about their idiocy. Datz was the one who listened to Nahyuta the most out of everyone, but Nahyuta was sure he would agree with Dhurke. It was suicide, plain and simple; that simply wasn’t what concerned Nahyuta about the entire thing, though the more they thought now, the dumber they felt.

Eventually, the conversation dies down, and Nahyuta can trace Datz’s movements as he comes down the hall towards his bedroom with heavy, clunking footsteps. Nahyuta quickly clambers out of bed and opens their door just as Datz passes by.

“Hey, Datz—”

Datz jumps nearly out of his skin, leaping back with his hands up before he processes the scene before him. He relaxes, heaves a sigh, then grins. “Goddamn, Yuty, you scared the shit outta me!” he laughs, slapping Nahyuta’s back affectionately. “You always sneak up on me.”

Nahyuta smiles sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Datz. I just heard you come home and I wanted to talk to you.”

Datz puts a hand over his heart emphatically. “Aww, you wanted to see li’l ol’ me? I’m honored!”

“I tried to stay up. Father told me you wanted to see me, but…”

“Huh? Nahhh, it’s alright. I was tryin’ to go as quick as I could, but we got caught up. I hope I didn’t wake ya when I got home.”

“No, I couldn’t sleep.” Nahyuta pauses, shifting on their feet. “Would you like to talk for a bit, or would you rather get to sleep?”

Datz flashes a bright grin Nahyuta’s way. “Yuty, I could run a marathon right now. Sure, I’ll stay ‘n’ chat with ya!”

They move inside Nahyuta’s room. Datz pulls up the chair from their desk as Nahyuta settles themself back on their bed with their legs crossed. They tuck the stray hairs pouring over their face behind their ear. Datz leans back in the chair with a huff, stretching all of his limbs, then taking out an apple to peel. He does it with slow, deliberate motions, sleepy, his eyes hooded. Nahyuta feels the tiniest bit bad. Clearly, he was staying up for their sake.

[claitea]

the thought "nahyuta as n" hit me out of nowhere while replaying pokemon black for the first time in years, and whoops now i've got a whole pokemon black/white soj au now i guess??

[apollo-justice-for-all]

Snow

AO3 link here

Summary: Apollo recalls his first experience with snow in the Khura'inese mountains with Dhurke and Nahyuta.

--

The Kingdom of Khura'in...or, to be more specific, the faraway mountains. A relatively safe haven for the Defiant Dragons as they planned their coup d'état against the tyrannical Queen Ga'ran Sigatar Khura'in and her equally tyrannical Defense Culpability Act.

The Defiant Dragons had multiple bases set up in the kingdom, from dilapidated buildings to even the complex sewer system underground. They even had spies within the ranks of the royal guards, stealthily observing the queen and her family's every actions - observations that they would then report back to their superiors.

Yet, time and again, the mountains proved themselves to be the primary base of operations for the Dragons. Standing at the pinnacle of the world, the mountains provided a great barrier of nature, one that proved to be impenetrable. No matter how many of the royal guards were sent out, the Dragons could conceal themselves within the dense forests and the vast fields. Even the deepest of lakes and the fastest of rivers could hide them from prying eyes.

But the mountains were also a dangerous place to live in. While the royal guards were a main concern, there was also the matter of other dangerous creatures roaming in the wild. One could easily find themselves face-to-face with a predatory animal like a tiger or a wolf, or a misstep could send someone falling off a cliff to their untimely demise. And, of course, there was always the matter of finding enough food to last an entire group...or a small family.

Dhurke always kept this in mind. Even after all the years he'd spent hiding in the mountains, living in that little shack, he knew there was danger to be had. Not just for himself, but also for his two boys, Nahyuta and Apollo.

Especially Apollo.

From the moment Dhurke took him under his wing, the young child had grown into quite the little spitfire, always full of energy and vigor, and always eager for adventure. Take away that piss and vinegar, and you get just that: a child, all alone, with his father dead and his mother missing. It broke Dhurke's heart every time he recalled the incident: the fire burning away at the palace, Apollo as an infant crying for help as his father lay dead...

He was so lost in thought that he didn't hear the fast pitter-patter of bare feet against the wooden floorboards, nor the sound of a door being swung open. The rush of cold air and a startled squeak, on the other hand, were enough to snap him out of his thoughts.

Dhurke turned around to find Apollo running towards him. His tiny hands were wrapped around something white and mushy, and his cheeks were bright red. He was also shivering from the coldness to the point where Dhurke could see his pointed canine teeth like little fangs (dragon fangs, according to Datz).

"D-D-Dhurke," Apollo spoke up between shivers. "What's this? It's s-so white, and wet and...and...and c-cold!"

Dhurke blinked in surprise. Then, he smiled. And let out a hearty chuckle. He knelt down to affectionately give his foster son a pat on the head, just behind his tiny horns. His other hand came up to poke the white stuff that was slowly but inexorably beginning to melt in Apollo's smaller hands.

"My boy," he said. "All this time in the mountains, and you have no idea about the natural world outside?"

Though, given the circumstances, he figured that being forced to hide from Ga'ran's royal guards was the main factor. But he didn't dare tell Apollo that. Instead, he took a clump of the white and wet...thing...and cupped it in his hands for Apollo to see.

"This is called snow," he explained. "The mountains are topped with it. And, at a certain time of year, it is what covers the land and makes it cold and white."

"S...suh-now..." Apollo slowly repeated.

Dhurke nodded. Apollo took a deep breath and said it again, with more confidence this time. "Snow!" He tossed the last bits of snow into the air, and watched as it scattered on the floor in small droplets.

Apollo frowned. "But if the snow covers the ground, then what happens to the grass, and the plants, and..."

Dhurke chuckled as he stood up. "Well, why don't we find out for ourselves together?" he asked. He went over to the closet and pulled out a large blue coat for himself as well as a smaller red coat for Apollo. He also took out a pair of mittens and boots to keep their hands and feet warm as well as some scarves.

Once Apollo was fully dressed, he followed Dhurke outside the shack and into the fields. More snow covered the ground, blanketing the world in white. Dhurke watched as Apollo gasped in awe at the new surroundings, his eyes sparkling with delight. He then looked down at the snow and ducked down on all fours to dig through it, as if he were searching for his hidden cache of a freshly-killed rabbit or squirrel.

Dhurke knelt down to Apollo's height as he put a hand on his shoulder. "You wish to know more about what happens to the grass and plants when the snow falls, don't you, son?" he asked.

"Uh-huh!" Apollo nodded with enthusiasm.

Dhurke sat down in the snow and pulled Apollo onto his lap. "Well, at this time of year, the plants and grass need to rest and recharge, like the rest of us. When the cold seasons start to settle in, they..." He paused, unsure where to go from there. "...They retreat back into the ground. The earth gives the plants the energy that normally would not be found just by obtaining sunlight and water alone, and the plants, in turn, give themselves to the earth to be reborn again."

He turned to the riverside. "And it's not just the grass that needs to rest, too. Ice forms over the water, and the fish within have to sleep for a very long time. It's the same with some animals, too. Some of them store up enough energy to sleep through and survive the long, cold nights and short days. And others retreat to warmer places."

He glanced up at the sky, noticing that it was starting to snow. "Apollo, listen carefully. Winter is a time when you should reflect upon your past and plan ahead for your future. It is a time to rest your body and mind so that you will be ready come the next spring. But most importantly, it is also a time to remember the fallen ones and to honor their spirits so that they will be reborn anew. And the snow is a symbol of it all - of death, of rest, and of rebirth. That is what makes the life cycle so incredible."

Apollo nodded. "OK," he said. "But what can we do with the snow?"

"How about this?" an older, yet still boyish voice sounded from behind them. As if on cue, Dhurke felt something cold and wet hit his back, startling Apollo. The two of them turned to find Nayhuta dressed in his white coat. He held a snowball in one hand as he grinned, his jade eyes standing out amongst all that white.

Dhurke stared at Nahyuta in bewilderment. Then, he chuckled. "Where'd you come from, my boy?" he asked.

Nahyuta smirked as he clutched his snowball with both hands. "Oh, you know, Father," he said rather innocently. "Just thought I'd surprise you both."

"Well, you certainly managed to accomplish that." Dhurke slowly got up just as Apollo hopped off his lap. "And now, you're going to get it! Raaah!"

Without warning, he scooped up a large clump of snow in his arms and threw it at both his boys. Nayhuta laughed as he dodged the wave of snow. Apollo, however, wasn't so lucky, as he tripped over and fell face-first in the snowbank.

Nahyuta gasped in shock and dropped his snowball as he rushed to his brother's aid. "Apollo! Apollo, are you alright?"

Luckily, Apollo wasn't injured at all. He simply sat up to wipe the snow off his hair and face and glared up at Nayhuta. "Yuty, we gotta get back at him!" he declared.

Nahyuta blinked. Then, he smiled and nodded. "Yeah, you're right," he said. "For the Defiant Dragons!"

The two boys quickly gathered up as many snowballs as they could before launching them at Dhurke. Their father laughed as tiny white orbs pelted his coat before retaliating with some of his own snowballs.

Even as Dhurke continued his snowball fight with Apollo and Nahyuta, he couldn't help but feel a dreaded thought nag the back of his mind. Though the snow held its own beauty, it also came with a danger of its own. Prey animals would become scarce, while predators could take desperate measures by invading the shack in search of any fresh meat they could find. And, of course, there was always the possibility of Ga'ran's followers coming into the mountains in search of them.

He knew that someday, one of his two sons would have to leave Khura'in for his safety. And he knew that day was fast approaching.

But for now, as he lay in the snow with his sons at his sides, Dhurke was happy to live out a snow day free of worry...a day where he and his family would be safe.

At least, for now.

* * *

"What are you thinking about, Polly?"

Apollo yelped as Trucy's voice startled him out of his daydream, so much so that it nearly caused him to fall out of his chair. After taking a moment to regain his composure, he then took a quick look at his surroundings.

Gone were Dhurke and Nahyuta along with the little shack in the mountains, replaced with the warm and messy (yet familiar all the same) office of Wright Anything Agency. Trucy was leaning over his desk in front of him, staring at him with concerned sapphire eyes.

Apollo sighed with exasperation as he rubbed his finger against his forehead. "Trucy, how many times do I have to tell you not to wake me up like that?" he complained. "It scares me every time."

Trucy withdrew from her perch atop Apollo's desk. "Sorry, Polly," she said. "But you looked pretty zoned out. What were you thinking about?"

Oh...that.

Apollo sighed as he relaxed in his chair. "Just...thinking about the times I used to play in the snow as a kid, I guess," he answered solemnly. "Snowball fights, snow angels...even sledding..."

Trucy tapped a finger to her chin, like she usually did when she was thinking hard. "You really miss all the fun times, don't you?" she asked. "It's not like you to feel down in the dumps, you know. You're usually a lot more serious than that, Polly."

And by serious, you mean grumpy, thought Apollo as he pouted a little.

Trucy glanced out at the window...and let out a gasp. "Polly! Polly, look!" she squealed excitedly. "It's snowing outside!"

Apollo blinked with surprise. "Wait, seriously?" he asked.

"Seriously, Polly! You gotta take a look at this!" Trucy pressed her gloved hands against the glass window, grinning with excitement. Apollo got up from his desk to look out the window. Almost right away, his eyes widened with amazement at what he saw.

Outside the office, he saw multiple snowflakes gently falling from the sky, blanketing the city skyscrapers in a soft and fluffy white. Down below, he noticed that some of the streets and sidewalks were empty, as if the people down below had chosen to leave room for nature to take over.

Almost unconsciously, Apollo found himself recalling Dhurke's words: "Winter is a time when you should reflect upon your past and plan ahead for your future. It is a time to rest your body and mind so that you will be ready come the next spring. But most importantly, it is also a time to remember the fallen ones and to honor their spirits so that they will be reborn anew."

He couldn't help but curl his lips into a small smile, remembering his first snow day in the mountains, in a world where he lived alone with his family. He wondered if they were doing the same, looking out into the window of their hideout, remembering that very day...remembering him.

"Hey, Polly!"

Apollo looked down at Trucy, her grin having morphed into a broad, toothy smile. "You wanna go and see if Mr. Gavin and Ms. Skye have taken the day off? I'm sure they won't resist a good snowball fight...or two. It'll be a good way for you to unwind as well."

Apollo thought this over for a moment. Then, he smiled. "Heh, why not?" he replied, his mind picturing a moment where he could finally knock that stupid, smug look off of that glimmerous fop's face.

"Perfect!" Trucy bounced over to grab her coat. "Then let's go make some calls and tell them to meet us over at People Park!"

"I'll be right there," Apollo said. "Just...need a moment." Once he was sure Trucy was gone, he leaned against the windowsill and looked outside once more. He let out a deep sigh as the memories came back to him. For the first time in his life, he realized just how alone he was, in America, without his family by his side.

Yet, at the same time, he couldn't help but think about the new friends and the new family he'd gained here. A group of close confidants who would always have his back no matter what.

He smiled. No matter what happened next, he would be fine.

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

the branches and the roots

post-Spirit of Justice. Maya, still in Khura’in, looks in old records hoping to learn a little more about her family.

[on ao3]

----

The heavy wooden door, when it creaks open, dislodges pounds of dust from its frame and its intricately carved face. Maya sneezes into the sleeve of her robe. She lifts her face up out of it, stares into the dark windowless room ahead of her, and sneezes again. 

“Just wait a moment, if you think it is dusty now,” Prosecutor Sahdmadhi says. 

He told her to call him Nahyuta, so there’s a teasing Cuz or Yuty on the tip of her tongue, because family is family however distant, and family she calls things like Sis and Pearly and Nick. But she can’t quite access it. The tip of her tongue hits the back of her teeth and her jaw sticks shut and she’s avoided addressing him as anything. Plus he still calls her Miss Fey so it’s not like he’s figured it out either. 

She covers her face with her sleeve. “Okay,” she says. “I’m ready.”

Prosecutor Sahdmadhi arches one perfect eyebrow. He reminds Maya of what all the hanging scrolls of the former Masters depict; the old portraits are consolidated in the manor, a forest of women whose flaws are brushed away as they are enshrined in traditional inked artistry. He, and his mother, unreal, beautiful, the kind of elegance that Maya was told all her life to emulate and never could. The kind of regal grace that Pearly performed as soon as she was able to walk. 

(Poor perfect Pearl, such a prodigy, but of the branch family, forever damned to be nothing. Morgan was the only one who acted on making Pearl the Master, but Maya knows with the way other elders of the family looked at her when she started spending longer and longer stints down in the city, months at a time with Nick, that they hoped she’d be just like her mother and never come back. That the city would eat her too.)

They step into the darkness, their only light a flashlight that Maya holds, and a lantern Prosecutor Sahdmadhi brought. “I wonder when it was someone last came down here,” he says. His voice is muffled a little by his scarf pulled over his face to shield him from the initial wave of dust. The orange-ish lantern-light turns his skin and his hair and his clothes gold, all gold, and warm and alive, a reminder that this is not a tomb and they are not buried. “I suppose I can get estimate a range…”

He turns to the shelves on the left, closest to the door, and picks up the first scroll-container there. This dusty room in the basement of the palace - Maya kept calling it the dungeons, and Nahyuta didn’t laugh, and she felt a pang of homesickness for the family that laughs at all her stupid jokes, and then she wondered if there are actual dungeons that Ga’ran and Inga used and that’s why he didn’t laugh, and her homesickness turns to sorrow - is an archive, of a sort, but the only information they are keen on recording in here is geneaology. Carefully preserved scrolls sit stacked on shelves around the room’s walls, a number she can’t estimate because she can’t see them all at once swinging the flashlight all around. A solid-looking wooden table stands in the center of the room. Prosecutor Sahdmadhi sets his lantern down there and spreads out the scroll. 

“How did anyone do anything down here before batteries existed?” Maya asks. She shines her flashlight up at the ceiling, almost expecting to find eyes or a face leering down at her, like this is a horror movie and not still part of a very lived-in palace. Much as this room hasn’t been lived-in, or walked in, and certainly not vacuumed or dusted in. 

“There are oil lamp holders on the walls,” Prosecutor Sahdmadhi answers. “And candles.” He doesn’t quite sound disparaging but he’s pretty close to it. 

“And risk setting everything on fire?” Thousands of years of the royal line up in smoke because someone was clumsy. Someone like Maya, who makes movements too quick and too big and takes up space in an unrefined manner. 

Prosecutor Sahdmadhi doesn’t answer and moments later he’s murmuring, almost to himself, “So it’s been at least fifteen years since someone cared to come here and update anything,” he says.

“What do you mean?” Maya lowers her flashlight from examining the lamp holders on the walls so she won’t shine it straight in his eyes and approaches the table, to where he is pointing at something. The names are tricky to decipher, even after two years of extremely immersive study of Khura’inese, but one she knows is Ga’ran’s even without the little crown drawn above it, and the other is very, very long, so that must be Inga. A family tree.

Prosecutor Sahdmadhi taps his fingers between the two names, where a line is drawn between them to signify marriage, but no other line extends from that one, no other name beneath theirs. “They never put Rayfa down as their child, or as existing at all. There were rather more pressing matters when kidnapping your sister’s daughter, and forcing your sister to live as a nursemaid and your double, else you’ll kill them both.”

He says it all so dry, deadpan, because he must have gotten used to living with that over his head, become resigned to the reality of that, the way Nick almost laughs when he’s talking about his poker-playing years even if it’s an obviously bitter laugh, and like with Nick, Maya wants to hug him, but she doesn’t think he’d appreciate that. Certainly she would ask first but he’s already saying something else and the time for asking is passed. “This will have to be redone afresh on a new scroll.”

“Why?” Maya asks. “They didn’t write the princess down at all, so you could just add her under—”

Under your parents, but her eyes follow his fingers brushing across the parchment and all the muscles in his hand tighten when he reaches his mother’s name and the blackened, burned holes next to and beneath her name.

“Another reason candles are so practical for this work of genealogy,” Prosecutor Sahdmadhi says, and this time he isn’t dry or deadpan. His voice is dripping, anger barely contained, not swallowed and barely held in his mouth to stop him from spitting that fury that’s justified if unbecoming of a monk and prince regent. (Unbecoming of a Master, too. Maya’s spent two years in Khura’in trying to learn to be the Master, and she’s a stronger medium than ever but she still only sometimes knows how she’s supposed to act, how to become the Master and not Maya. Maya has too many feelings, Maya has too much righteous indignation to be as calm as the Master is supposed to be, but Her Benevolence Princess Rayfa is also full of fury and still a beloved princess, so maybe that’s okay. To feel things. To be angry.) “Fire right at hand to burn out the sinful heretics.”

“Cut off the branches,” Maya says. Morgan tried to do that literally, with her last plan, pruning the tree violently, and Ga’ran literally used fire to burn the Sahdmadhis out of the royal family. “You were a baby. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were as much the queen’s child as you were Dhurke’s.”

“I’m sure there would have been some contention over my expulsion from the family had I been a girl,” Prosecutor Sahdmadhi says. “You can’t turn a potential medium loose into rebel hands, after all. But I wasn’t, and so the only blood of mine that mattered was that of my allegedly criminal father.”

“How did you ever become a prosecutor like that?” she asks. She asked to come down here searching for something about their family long ago, wanting to find the place where Khura’in and Kurain broke apart forever, but the affairs of a thousand years ago suddenly pale in importance to what happened a month ago. What happened fifteen years ago, and twenty-three years ago. Living family more important than the dead. 

(Especially since she hasn’t ever gotten the chance to speak with Nahyuta one-on-one before. Not even talk with him and Princess Rayfa and Queen Amara together. Prosecutor Prince-Regent Sahdmadhi seems to be everywhere at once, trying to do everything all at once, the way his brother is trying to take up every criminal and civil defense all at once. Maya’s spent more time with Apollo than she expected to, but she’s got more legal experience than Datz and Ahlbi who are also trying to help him run his law office, and they need someone who knows all about it. Putting on the skin of co-counsel and legal assistant is easier than trying to find the skin of Master. And she wants to help her family, and Apollo is family, two different ways. Via Nick, and via her distant Khurainese cousins.)

“When I emerged from the woods claiming to renounce the rebels and wanting to work as a prosecutor to bring an end to them” - Prosecutor Sahdmadhi snorts, his hands curling tight around the edge of the table - “Ga’ran made a great show of being a benevolent queen willing to forgive the child of her sister’s murderer and integrate him into her regime’s legal system. And then she dragged me out of earshot of her guards and snapped a leash around my neck and told me it would be Rayfa’s noose if I ever dared step out of line.”

Maya thinks of Shelley de Killer. A sword hanging overhead to force the desired result. Her mouth is dry. She nods. Prosecutor Sahdmadhi isn’t even looking at her anyway. “Her claims of forgiveness changed the minds of no other prosecutor, and there is a reason I started prosecuting internationally. Not just because there was no fear of facing my father’s friends on the stand and damning them in this farce of justice, but because my colleagues would not be cruel for my name, and because the leash choked me a little less when I did not have Ga’ran’s eyes constantly on me. Do you know, some of the other Khura’inese prosecutors called it favoritism that she had for me. Special treatment, that she often called me to the palace, tasked me with giving the princess a cursory understanding of the legal system or assisting her at crime scenes - it was all a sick game to her. I could spend time with my sister and no one must ever know it. I imagine she enjoyed watching me try to stay detached. Watching me squirm.”

“She’s a monster,” Maya says. 

“Unfortunately not.” Prosecutor Sahdmadhi rolls the scroll back up, his fingers tight around it crumpling it, because this sheet is already tainted, already wrong, and it doesn’t matter if he ruins it. “She’s human, just as the rest of us are.” He sets the scroll aside, near his lantern, rather than put it back. There’s no reason to put it back when it needs to be redone. She wonders if he’ll burn Ga’ran and Inga out of the tree in retaliation. Like Pearly splattering gravy on the hanging scroll of her mother - destroy the records of the family that some other family didn’t want around. She doubts it, somehow, that Prosecutor Sahdmadhi would do that. 

“Now,” he says, curtly, businesslike, like a prosecutor, “this ancestor of ours who founded your channeling school, how long ago did she live?”

-

There is not necessarily a guarantee that Ami Fey will appear anywhere in the genealogy of the Khura’inese royals. It may have been her mother or grandmother who left for Japan, and simply Ami who once there decided to turn their spiritual power again into real power, not as a queen but as a Master. A wise woman with the wisdom of the dead in hand. Or Ami Fey may not have been known as Ami in Khura’in; it may have been a name she took upon leaving. 

Or she may, as they come to realize, have been a branch burned from the tree for leaving and taking their spiritual secrets with her. 

“I suppose this must be her, then,” Prosecutor Sahdmadhi says, “as we have been through everything else and…” He gestures at the shelves on either side of them. They have searched the generations that lie around the era that Ami should have lived, finding no trace of her name or a Khura’inese equivalent. What they have found, what Prosecutor Sahdmadhi concludes is the junction where their families broke apart, is another searing burn, blackened edges of a hole through the parchment, the sole person to have been stricken from the family in half a dozen generations on either side. A daughter; in the scorch marks, when they squint, the light right on the page, both of them hunched over it and struggling to keep their long hair out of the way, they can see that this disavowed disgrace was a daughter. 

“Her,” Prosecutor Sahdmadhi repeats, “or whoever came to bore her, and taught her of the powers of our bloodline. Perhaps she had only some limited knowledge some mothers before her carried out of our homeland, that she came to make her own.”

Our homeland. Does he mean that Khura’in is home to her? It is tradition in the village for the Master to study in Khura’in; did her mother think of it as her homeland? (Did she keep secret her blood’s connection to the royal family? It would have been Amara’s mother on the throne then. How did she rule - did she lay down a hand of fear that would have left Misty cautious to confess her identity, as Maya had been?) What is home - is it Kurain, or Khura’in, or Los Angeles? Is it the village she grew up in, or the city where she found her truest self? She and Apollo share a fond longing for the perks of the city, of one kind of home, and the confusion of not knowing whether to call that place home, or instead consider home the place in the mountains where each of them formed their first memories. 

“They disowned her for leaving, then,” Maya says. “They - they do that too, in my village. If you’re gone for twenty years, you’re considered dead and stripped of your rank and titles and - everything.” That’s what they say, anyway. No one has actually fully disappeared like that to test it. Her mother almost had, and then Maya would have found out whether the elders truly meant to erase Misty from the halls of the manor and the scrolls of the Masters, or simply, finally, pass her title along.

“Spirit channeling is a powerful tool, jealously guarded by individuals who want to hoard that power for themselves,” Prosecutor Sahdmadhi says. “For there to be some outsider who know the secret undermines its exclusivity and its power. It does not surprise me that the act of leaving would so be considered a betrayal, enough to leave one little more than ashes.” He touches his fingertips to the parchment. 

“Or gravy,” Maya says. Prosecutor Sahdmadhi’s eyes dart suspiciously toward her. “Never mind,” she adds hurriedly. “So then, um, we read these right to left, when it comes to ages?”

Prosecutor Sahdmadhi nods. He taps his fingers along all of the other names in a row with the burn mark, the siblings of this persona non grata, and then the row up above, their mother’s siblings. “Yes,” he says. “And our subject here was the youngest daughter of a youngest daughter, and each of them with several sisters. Ami - we will presume, for ease of referring to her, that this was your Ami who has been stricken from the tree - had nothing in her future, no position of prestige or power waiting for her.” He sighs, stepping back, closing his bright eyes and pondering for a moment, as though he may begin a recitation. “Our royal line and our country was founded on a story of two sisters - the elder, a medium so powerful she was revered as a goddess by the people she led, and the younger, who lacked the power to channel spirits but nonetheless stood as the country’s loyal and beloved protector.”

His eyes open. “It should be a position of honor, even to be a younger sister, or even to be one who could not channel. But somewhere that was lost, and being unable to channel or become queen became a source of great shame - as though the only worthy and admirable position there ever is to hold is Queen.” Shaking his head, he continues, “My aunt should have been our people’s great protector, our country’s loyal guardian. Instead she nearly destroyed us, out of jealousy, because our family has come to be such a way that for younger daughters such as Ga’ran and Ami, no future awaits.”

The equating of the two of them - Kurain Village’s revered founder, and the evil queen - makes Maya uncomfortable. Yes, they were both the younger sister, as was Lady Kee’ra, and Lady Kee’ra the younger of two as Ga’ran was, but that is all that Ga’ran shares with either of them. And that is all that Ga’ran shares with—

“I’m the younger daughter,” Maya says. Prosecutor Sahdmadhi looks at her straight on again. Honestly, even Maya has gotten bored sometimes - often - with Kurain Village genealogy and whatever else, even while she’s come to be curious about Khura’in. She wouldn’t blame Prosecutor Sadhmadhi for not wanting to hear it. But he appears genuinely intrigued by what Maya has just said, to be waiting for her to continue telling him about her family tree in Kurain. Something in his eyes urges her to continue, but she can’t get more than one more sentence out through the tightness in her throat. “And so was my mother, the Master of the village before me.”

“What happened?” he asks. She wonders what his guess is. It would be reasonable to assume that they both had older sisters who died - reasonable in any other family, but they are not any other family, the Feys and the royals. If there’s anyone in the world who could make a guess that lands close to the truth of all that Morgan Fey did, it would be Nahyuta. He could know.

And she knows when she tells him, he’ll understand. “Aunt Morgan, my mom’s older sister, wasn’t a very powerful medium. So when the elders convened, they passed her by and gave the title of Master to my mother. And Aunt Morgan had been counting on the power and status that being Master would give, and her husband had too. Her - her first husband.” The implication there tells the rest of that story. It’s exactly what Prosecutor Sahdmadhi can assume it is. “And then my mother was consulted on a murder case, and was disgraced, and she decided that should mean that she should disappear—”

“That was the DL-6 incident of 2001, yes?” Prosecutor Sahdmadhi asks. Maya blinks. “After we witnessed your channeling prowess in your trial, and I returned to Los Angeles, I researched Kurain Village and your family.”

Yes, she was going to tell him about it all - but something about the fact that he already knows it feels like a betrayal of trust. Like she was going to welcome him into her house and then he pushed past her and pulled out a copy of her front door key and used it because he’d stolen it from her a week ago and had a copy made. Except in this analogy her key is a matter of public record. “So you know about all about that ton of murder cases we’ve been caught up in,” she says, and the words still fall out of her mouth bitter. 

“Your aunt tried to frame you for murder,” he replies.

“Guess why.” That sounds bitter as well, but she didn’t mean it to. Morgan’s motive wasn’t part of the actual case as was presented in court, as became part of the transcript. But Nahyuta could know.

“I suppose I may reason that she had, at that point a daughter capable of channeling, whose only path to inheriting the title was through you.” He speaks with confidence, but his expression is puzzled. He wouldn’t know why she has suddenly soured on the conversation. She shouldn’t be mad - it saves her at least ten minutes of explanation if he knows DL-6, and then the incident in Kurain Village, beforehand - but that emotion reared its stupid head anyway. 

“My cousin Pearly,” Maya says, shaking off her frustration. She can’t stay mad at one of the few people who can truly understand. “She’s about as strong as me and ten years younger. A real prodigy. But she was - we call it the branch family, the ones descended from whichever sisters didn’t become Master. And branch family meant, she’d be nothing. She doesn’t care about the titles, but Aunt Morgan sure did.”

“And your aunt was the older daughter,” Prosecutor Sahdmadhi muses. “And passed by despite it. She acted as she did because you were the one to inherit the title - yet you are, as you said, the younger daughter, who should not have had that in her future.” He doesn’t ask a question, but his tone and his eyes make it clear that this is an inquiry.

“You said you researched my family,” Maya says. His family too, at a distance. “If you dredged up every court case with a Fey involved, you know why. You know why this younger daughter gets the title, and it wasn’t anything about who was the stronger medium.”

“I am sure I do,” Prosecutor Sahdmadhi says, “but please, I would like to hear from you - tell me about your sister.”

Maya swallows the lump in her throat and blinks to dispel the burning behind her eyes. “She was amazing,” she says. “She was - she left the village, for me. To try and find our mother, and so she wouldn’t have to compete with me to be Master. So we wouldn’t end up hating each other like our mom and Aunt Morgan did.” Her eyes burn again, after a few seconds’ respite. “I hated her sometimes anyway, for leaving me alone, but that was different than hating her like - like our moms and aunts.”

The plural emerges from her lips without really thinking, but when she does think, she realizes she doesn’t know how her mom felt about Morgan. Did she hate her for all she tried to do? Or did she love her older sister with both pity and anger instead? How did Misty and Morgan feel about each other when they were children? Did Ga’ran love her older sister or spare her only out of the practicality of needing a stand-in to channel spirits? 

“She was a defense attorney,” Maya adds, knowing that Prosecutor Sahdmadhi knows it, but now he can hear it from her, like he asked. “She was Nick’s mentor, and she saved him, and she taught him all of his tricks that he used to beat you.” She grins, despite herself. A faint shadow of a smile crosses Nahyuta’s face. He’s glad he lost. She knows that now. “I wish you could’ve met her.”

The smile fades. “Do you?” he asks. “I put you through hell, and that I did it because I thought it the only way to protect my sister is no excuse, one I cannot imagine her tolerating, not when I am sure that she too must so have loved her own sister.”

Maya runs her hand over the beads of her necklace. Mia wore a magatama until the day she died, and every day she returned after; she kept that connection to a home that she abandoned not because she hated the place, but because she loved who remained there. “I’ve been accused of murder a lot,” Maya says. “Like, a lot, you know.” She glances away from him, doesn’t see if he nods. “And you know, some of the prosecutors who did that, tried so hard to get me convicted of murder because they had perfect win records to maintain?” Tried to act as heartless demons like Nahyuta did, because it’s easier that way, easier to turn cold, to never feel. “We became friends. And are, still.” Edgeworth paid for the flight, after all. “I forgave them. I forgive you. I’m sure Sis would too.”

“You think so?” Nahyuta asks. He sounds honestly concerned that a woman who’s been dead for more than a decade wouldn’t like him. 

“Yeah,” Maya says. “She - I mean, she had experience with the blackmail thing. She spent years on a case like that. Building a case against the horrible man who leaked the news of our mother’s involvement in DL-6 to the press, building up evidence of all of the people he blackmailed to suicide and ruin. She knows you have to strike at the top. And she’d know that you loved your sister. That - that does mean something.” 

They didn’t talk about it, really, but Maya knows that, like she herself did, Mia forgave Godot-Diego for his stupid, prideful plan that ended with him killing their mother. People with good intentions and hurting hearts do ugly, painful things for love. People get trapped and can’t see another way out. She’s forgiven Tahrust Inmee for framing her for murder. People do desperate, mad things for love. Khura’in is a country of mountains and on another mountain on the other side of the sea, years ago, Maya learned a lot that she carries with her.

“Did she ever find your mother?” Nahyuta asks softly. She thinks he must be thinking about his own lost mother who he only just found. She imagines the anguish he felt when she was shot, not knowing if he would ever see her again to catch up on the lost years. She remembers lying on a courthouse couch, her sister with Pearly’s robes smoothing Maya’s hair back from her face and telling her that their mother is dead. Maya remembers not knowing how to mourn a woman she never knew and couldn’t recognize. Nahyuta knew his mother for a time when he was old enough to remember; his situation wasn’t the same, and it didn’t end the same, and Maya is so glad for it.

“No,” Maya says, and Nahyuta’s eyes sadden. “She - she didn’t. Sis thought, I guess, that - 

that if she could find out and expose that blackmailer for everything he’d done, then - then our mother would come out of hiding, I guess. Would come home. And instead, that horrible, horrible man murdered my sister, and tried to frame me, and Nick, for it.” 

There it is again, the pain behind her eyes of sharp tears gathering. “Nick and I took him down but it was too late for Sis. And she was so - she was so young, I keep thinking now, because I’m - I’m older than she was when she died. Does that make me not the younger sister, anymore? I’m older than my older sister. Am I - what am I, then, by birthright? Of course I’m going to be the Master someday, because I’m - I’m the oldest daughter now, aren’t I? Only because I’m the one that lived.”

Nahyuta doesn’t say anything. What is there to say? More than almost anyone else in the entire world - more than anyone but Queen Amara herself - he understands, has lived such a same awful nightmare, and there’s nothing to say. There’s no consolation.

“Sometimes I think I shouldn’t have kids,” Maya adds. “Most of the time I think it. And if Pearly didn’t either we could just - put an end to this. Is it worth it? For the world to have this - us, to channel the dead, is it worth it if it keeps ruining the living?” How many more neglected sons and dead daughters will their bloodline see? Why are they the sacrifice for this power to continue to exist? Why should the dead be prioritized over the living mediums who call them back?

“Maybe I’ll adopt,” she says. “If I ever want kids. Like - Nick adopting a kid worked out really well for them both. Then I could get to have kids without perpetuating this - this cycle.”

“Our shared blood spilled again and again,” Nahyuta says.

“One of my cousins, who can’t even channel, still became a nun because our family is so fucked up,” Maya says. And that’s a bit of a simplification of Iris’ choice and situation, but it’s also exactly what happened, isn’t it? Shut herself away to atone for the crime of loving her sister and also those other crimes - willing to do whatever it took to protect Maya from Morgan’s plot because she knew no other way to atone for the sins of herself and her sister and mother. “I don’t know. Am I overreacting to say that we need to swear a pact, like you and me and Pearly and Her Benevolence, to not have any biological children so that we can end the bloodline? Like is that - is that blaming the wrong thing? The blood and not—”

Not us? 

“Is our family always so damned to turn out this way?” Nahyuta asks, rephrasing her fumbling questions so elegantly. “Do we have a choice in what we become? Or say perhaps we should swear to do better - and perhaps we do, for a generation or two. And then what? The Holy Mother and Lady Kee’ra gave us the best example they could of how to protect Khura’in, how to rule and serve its people while loving each other, and look how that became corrupted. Look how Lady Ami left, and her descendants set out across the sea, and still in your faraway village older and younger sisters go to war with each other.” He gives her a sad smile, his eyes even sadder. “Of course it seems the inevitable fate of our bloodline, given what both your branch and mine have lived through, Cousin.”

“Shit sucks,” Maya says. She needs to ask Datz to teach her some good curses in Khura’inese. All she knows is how to damn people to various hells, and sometimes that just isn’t the vibe she’s going for with her swearing. 

Nahyuta laughs softly. “Indeed it does.”

Maya reaches out and pulls the scroll back closer to her. Ami, the daughter who founded her branch of their ancient family, nothing more than a nameless scorch mark. What else should Maya have expected to find? She knows how her family is, home and here. Why not a thousand years ago, the same? She should have expected it, the fire and the pruned branches. Then and now.

“Does that mean you’re on board with the no-kids pact?” She glances back at Nahyuta. “Or do I just like, really not want kids actually and I’m just trying to find justifiable excuses when ‘I don’t want kids’ can be its own excuse?” She’s babbling. The Master is not supposed to babble. “Have you ever thought about if you want—?”

Something dark and sad crosses his face. “I have no idea what I ‘want’,” he says, making a sarcastic quotation mark in the air with one hand, and Maya almost laughs because that’s some of the most informal expressiveness she’s ever seen from him. “Until a very recent time, all I could hope to ‘want’ for the future was that I would die before I was thirty and be freed of this, for no hell in death I’ve ever heard of could be worse than the one I lived.”

Maya regrets asking. “Oh,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

“I suppose that is some argument in support of your suggestion,” he continues, like the way Nick talks about being disbarred, where he blithely talks past anyone’s sympathy or acknowledgement of how fucked up it was. “Given that it was a hell my own aunt made for me. Is there anything else you wished to examine down here?”

Nick talks past it because he can’t let himself pause to consider how fucked up it was, because he’s treading water and has to keep moving and if he stops to think he’ll drown. Maya knows this because she’s done the same. She kept a smile on her face and kept moving because she had to keep Pearly’s head above water, again and again. Nick has Trucy. Nahyuta has Rayfa and the entire country of Khura’in. “No,” Maya says, rolling up the ancient scroll to return it to its place. “That’s all I was looking for down here.”

Nahyuta nods. He points her to the spot on the shelves, the carefully ordered archive of their family’s burdensome history, the spot where Ami was excised from. They stand there, after, silently, eyeing the shelves in the gloom, as though both reluctant to leave it. “I suppose,” Nahyuta says softly, barely more than a breath, “that it is not quite true to say that I have never given thought to the matter of children. What I want, I do not know. But that I am regent now, I have wondered too, as we said before, what will be next? Holy Mother forbid my sister ever become a tyrant, but what of her potential future daughters? What of - what, perhaps, of mine? How shall we safeguard our country from our own descendants?”

“I hear democracies work okay sometimes,” Maya says. And sometimes there are the Paul Atishons of the world who commit murder in the course of running for a village council position. Sometimes, there are people - greedy, selfish, ambitious people - and everything goes wrong. 

Nahyuta’s mouth twists in a small smirk. She’s certainly hedging her bets with her phrasing, she knows.

“I guess even if you decided to not have kids so they or your grandkids or great-grandkids can’t ruin everything for everyone again,” Maya says, “you and Her Benevolence would still have to restructure the entire government because—”

“Because our entire line of succession is based on spirit channeling, yes,” Nahyuta says. “Thousands of years of tradition and direct descent, and we stand poised to overturn it all.” He shakes his head. “My most immediate concern has been piecing our legal system back together and undoing all the false verdicts that Ga’ran’s rule has wrought, as you and my brother are well aware, but I have had some discussion with my mother and sister about introducing a parliamentary system.” He folds his arms behind his back, shifting his wait like he is about to start moving, and then he doesn’t, and they remain there in the dark. “Even if our family should play out its bloody feuds again, we may at least limit the casualties. Our people should not suffer from a despot’s unilateral decrees just because one sister so envies the other.”

Envy, yes - it was jealousy, and ambition, and selfishness, and people died. It was Morgan expecting that she was owed her birthright and unable to cope when her more talented younger sister overtook her as Master. It was Ga’ran expecting nothing and wanting it all the same, desiring for herself the admiration that Khura’in’s people had for her older sister, the beloved queen, but only able to make herself feared, not loved. People are dead because one sister got what the other wanted.

Kurain Village teaches that channeling is a gift from the gods, but a gift shouldn’t come with a price to pay. 

“What does Her Benevolence think of that?” Maya asks. She respects Rayfa, the princess wo held too much responsibility at such a young age and now has had her world shattered several times over and stepped up from it stronger, and she never should have had to live any of this. She should not have had to learn that her mother was not her mother and was a monster, and her father who was not her father by blood was a monster, and the other father she could have had was already dead. Like Pearly, if such a tragedy ever had to befall her, why did it have to be when she was so young? Everything Princess Rayfa went through, Maya thinks, might make her understand the same facts that Maya and Nahyuta understand. 

“She agrees,” Nahyuta says, as Maya thought she would. “Lady Kee’ra and the Holy Mother were Khura’in’s great protectors. Perhaps this is what protecting our country means now - protecting it too from the worst of ourselves.” He sweeps a strand of hair back behind his ear and the shiny gold earrings there. “And I owe a great many thanks to Phoenix Wright, and you, for first helping Rayfa on the path to understanding these such matters. For teaching her what I could not.”

“I’m glad we could,” Maya says. “I really am glad. I think Khura’in is lucky to have you both now.”

Nahyuta glances away, like he doesn’t really know how he’s supposed to respond to genuine concern and compliment. How long was he under Ga’ran’s thumb? How many years of being unable to have a heart, because it was his heart that Ga’ran used against him - how many years was he in a pit of vipers with no one who was allowed to care about him? If Maya knew she doesn’t quite remember. 

“I will do whatever I can to support Her Benevolence, and to repair all the wrongs that have been done to our country,” Nahyuta says stiffly, forcing the words out. “I owe - for all I stood complicit in, I—” He is still staring at the far wall, and he squeezes his eyes shut and takes a moment to compose himself. “I owe my father so much more, but this much I am able to do. This I may change.” He blinks his eyes shut again and twists his beaded prayer necklace around his fingers. “I cannot make it up to him, but I will try.”

Maya’s stomach sinks. 

Only once has Apollo ever broached the topic of the three days she spent channeling his father, and that was just to know if she had any awareness of what was going on while she was channeling. The answer is no and a noncommittal vague shrug, because her soul vacates her body but spirits leave behind traces of feelings on their departure. When Tahrust left her she felt at peace, a sense of justice imparted and no regret remaining, for about three seconds until she remembered where she was and that she and Nick might be executed depending on what the high priest did or didn’t say. 

After Dhurke left, she was exhausted, mostly, and a bit confused why he was already gone because she didn’t think he had yet accomplished all he meant to - but more than that sense of unfinished business, there was love. Love for all three of his children, love for his wife, love for his rebels and his country. Everything he did was for love, and for once, the choices made for love weren’t stupid and messy. And still they ended with such pain. 

Talking to Apollo then, she remembered how much Dhurke loved his son, enough that for a moment she couldn’t breathe with it. (She wondered if this was how much her mother loved her.) And talking to Nahyuta now—

“You don’t need to make anything up to him,” Maya says. Nahyuta turns his head so that she can’t even see the pained expression on his face, but she can see his hands curled up to his chest, clutching the dragon tattooed on his palm close to his heart. “He loved you. He forgave you from the start. He understood why, and he loved you.”

“Don’t,” Nahyuta whispers. “You can’t say that—”

“I know he - hey!” 

Nahyuta spins on his heel, heading for the door. Maya runs after him, grabbing onto his arm and hanging firm even as he twists in her grasp and slams the heavy doors behind them with a thunderous thud that makes the floor beneath their feet shudder. Nahyuta scowls at her; Maya scowls back, and when he breaks eye contact first, his shoulders slumping a little, Maya risks releasing her cousin’s arm. He studies his boots instead of leaving.

“I’d channel him so he could tell you himself,” Maya says, “but for one thing, I don’t know if that actually - helps. With getting closure.” Nahyuta looks at her from the corner of his eyes. A question. She goes on, her eyes stinging as she does. “Me and Nick with my sister, that whenever I’d channel her, or Pearly would, I wondered like maybe we were just picking at a scab and it’d never heal because she was here again, but she wasn’t here, not enough. She was always just out of reach, even when I got to hug her and tell her I loved her, I - I don’t know.” 

She never considered asking Pearl to channel Misty so that Maya could talk to her mother for the only time ever in her life. Both because she thought that Pearly would find the guilt unbearable, and Pearly feeling in any way responsible for what happened on that mountain is the last thing Maya has ever wanted, and because she doesn’t know what to say or how to get closure with a woman she never really knew. She had never come to terms with her mother’s disappearance, really, but then just the knowing - knowing that she was dead and no longer somewhere just at the tips of Maya’s fingertips if she reached far enough and looked hard enough - was the closure. Not closure enough, never enough, but the best Maya figures she could ever get in that situation. 

“Ask Lady Inmee if she felt the chance to say a final goodbye to her husband made the loss any less painful,” Nahyuta says. “To hear from him one last time that she loved him, when she knew that, and to tell him one last time that she loved him when he knew such.”

“Yeah,” Maya says softly. When Nahyuta resumes walking, it is to set a pace that she can easily keep beside him as he leads her through the maze of halls. She swallows her nerves, shoves aside the little bit of her mind that is convinced she is overstepping bounds, because when has she ever cared about that, and she already did once this conversation so why not finish it off? 

“And for the other thing,” she says, and Nahyuta turns his head sharply, his hair swinging, to look at her, like he’d forgotten that she started talking in a way that signaled that she had more than one point about channelings and closure, “I don’t think it would really change that much about how you feel, for you to hear your father say he’s forgiven you.”

Nahyuta stops, but doesn’t make to flee. He just stops, waiting for her to finish before they ascend to the ground floor of the palace, out of the records of the dead and back to their living family who still need their help. “I think you need to forgive you,” Maya says. 

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t say anything as they stride through the palace, passing guards in the lived-in halls, and she expects when they reach the front gates that he will throw her unceremoniously out. But he instead steps with her into the sun, out into the colorful, bustling streets of the capital, where here in the land of the living the people they pass have nods and bows of acknowledgement - for Nahyuta, mostly, of course but Maya too, and it never fails to amaze her. She spent two years here coming to know the people while hiding a part of herself, and now they know, and that and so much more has changed.

Nahyuta stops to chat with a sweet bun vendor, and through the quick conversation Maya gathers that the woman was one of the Dragons. They come away with a pastry for each of them, and it seems like Nahyuta has waited for her to take a bite and be unable to speak for him to finally say, “You make it sound so simple. As though it is easy to - how? How am I to...?”

Joke’s on him; Maya can easily talk through a mouthful of bun, even if it’s not helpful. “Wish I knew.”

Rather than stuff it in his face, Nahyuta breaks off a small piece of the bun and pops it into his mouth. The delicate, refined mannerisms he sometimes shows almost make Maya snort when she thinks about him learning manners while living in a shack in the mountains, that chaotic, feral childhood that Apollo has described a few times. Instead of laughing, she swallows her mouthful and says, “No, really, trust me, I do wish I knew.” How to forgive oneself a guilt of the kind so deep and painful it could drive a person to consider choosing death instead - that would be a power far greater than channeling spirits. Maybe that would be a gift that didn’t come intertwined with pain, but it isn’t the one Maya has. “I wish I was any help at all.”

She waits a moment to see if Nahyuta will reply right away, and when he doesn’t, she takes a large bite of her sweet bun again and raises her eyebrows in the best disdainful look she can muster, in response to Nahyuta watching her shove pastry down her face in the most undignified of ways. He rolls his eyes. She is still chewing when he says, “You were. Thank you, Maya.”

This deserves more dignity than talking with her mouth full can merit. The delay is at least two seconds until she can say, “Oh,” a reply that still surely lacks dignity. “You’re - you’re welcome.”

A warbaa’d roars and they both jump. A dog barks, and then another, another layer of noise over the loud bazaar. Maya closes her eyes to take in the ambience, all the voices chattering, catching up with neighbors and bartering for their groceries. “It feels different here now,” Maya says. 

“What do you mean?” Nahyuta asks. 

“I didn’t notice until it wasn’t, but there was always - this kind of tension, in the air, here. Even when everyone was trying to act normal, we were all - not. We were scared and - and hiding things.” Rebels, rebel-sympathizers, secret police, and Maya the spirit medium from abroad. “It feels like I can breathe now. It feels like - well, it doesn’t feel like home. My village is so damn quiet. Not like—” She waves a hand at all the bustle around them, looking over the shop storefronts, and then she is hastily halted when Nahyuta throws an arm out to stop her from walking into the path of a yak. “But it feels like it could be a home, more than it ever did before.” Even when before had the Inmees’ lovely hospitality. How hard as that is to look back on now, with all that happened since. “The thing I miss most though, besides Pearly and Nick and everyone - I wish I could get a burger. And ramen, but mostly a good burger.”

She watches the yak trundle of sight. Nahyuta looks briefly offended on its behalf until he asks, “Have you ever been to Burger Barn?”

“I can’t,” Maya whines. “The lines. I go in and I’m hungry and I smell everything and I’m so much hungrier but then I have to wait so long, and by the time I’d get to order I’d probably have eaten my own sandals, so no, I’ve never actually had one of their burgers.”

The law office comes into sight down the street; Maya has had trouble remembering where it is, and then Datz redid the outer walls yesterday and she barely recognizes it, but she can find her way now by the dragon he painted on the wall, to go with the office sign. Nahyuta’s eyes widen and he comes to a halt, and Maya realizes that he must not have been down here yet. She gives him a moment to take it in; she’s not going to try to get used to this visage yet, not when Datz is talking about redoing the roof too. “So,” she prompts when Nahyuta tears his eyes away and they resume walking, “you’ve been to Burger Barn?”

“I recommend going before you are hungry,” he says. “Then by the time the wait is over you are not positively famished. But I find it surprising that the wait would prove to you a challenge - it should pale in comparison to activities such as meditation beneath a freezing waterfall. The Burger Barn is only slightly cold from too much air conditioning.”

“I cannot believe you went to Burger Barn before me,” Maya says. “I can’t believe this! Was it as good as they say or is it overrated? I guess you probably haven’t had enough burgers to know—”

“I made it a point to visit several other burger joints in the time while I was in America, intending to make such a comparison,” Nahyuta interrupts, and Maya cackles at the thought, remembering Apollo lamenting his brother’s habit of obsessively over-researching anything that may tangentially cross his path. Like all the trials Maya has been involved in. Like burgers. Nahyuta raises his eyebrows at her outburst but continues, “From the samples that I have experienced” - experience a burger, that would be a great restaurant tagline, and Maya nearly laughs again - “I would rate it as the best.”

“Huh,” Maya says. She’s spent years convincing herself that they have to be overrated. “I guess we’ll have to go. And with Pearly too, it can be like another dimension of our training. I can’t believe I never thought of that trick before! Just treat it like training. I’ve been locked in cold mountain caves before, like oh no, the burger line is difficult somehow.”

“Oh Mystic Master of Kurain, cousin of mine, all your wisdom yet you missed this simple fact.” He says it so deadpan, only the corners of his eyes turning up with amusement.  

Maya sticks her tongue out at him. “Nick’s got a challenger - that is the most sarcastic way of calling me wise that I’ve ever heard. But I’ll—” She stops as something occurs to her. “You - you will come back to LA someday, right?” He isn’t running from an evil queen any longer. He has a home to stay in. 

“Of course,” he says. “I have people there I must ask forgiveness of, and I should like to visit your village someday, as well, to meet our cousin Pearly.”

She’s called her that so much that Nahyuta not knowing her doesn’t know that isn’t quite her name. She smiles. Maybe once she goes back to the village, she can convince Pearl that his name is Yuty and watch what happens when they meet. That would be funny. “And I would like Rayfa to be able to meet her, as well,” Nahyuta continues. “And for her to see more of the world beyond Khura’in.”

Pearl is only four years older than the princess, has had her world upended in much the same way to learn that her mother was not what she seemed, and by following her instructions Pearl was not doing right by the people she cared about. “That’d be good,” Maya says. They stand on the doorstep of the office, stare together up at the hand painted sign above the door. “I bet Pearly would love to meet you and show you around. Go to Burger Barn. Have a fun cousins hang-out. Get to know each other a little better.”

See if together they can find a way to do better than their mothers and aunts. Change the fate of their family. 

Nahyuta smiles. “I would like that.”

[crackmadhi]

I am with Someone

As Nahyuta and Simon got together they found a yet unknown kind of love with one another. Now they only have to tell their their family which sounds easier than it is in reality.

Chapter 1

Wednesday, 4 July 2029

Nervously Nahyuta paced around in his room. He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to tell his mother. He had to let her know that he was with Simon.

But how to do that was the question here. A week and one day had passed since he had returned to Khura’in and he still hadn’t gotten up the courage to tell her about it. Hesitantly he stopped in the middle of his room and glared at the carpet under his feet. A golden pattern of flowers on a deep ted ground. Follow the lines Nahyuta. Follow them and let yourself get pulled into the stream.

Amara had been happy to hear about Apollo and Klavier. She congratulated his brother and had been completely understanding for his need of privacy. Rayfa had been absolutely thrilled of the news even if it first threw her off a bit that he had fallen for a man. But after this initial reaction of confusion, she had asked a million questions and insisted on calling the poor ex-rock star to make sure that he was a good boyfriend for her quasi brother.

They would never be mad at him for liking a man. Why had he even thought about that? This would not be the problem here. His mother might worry since Simon was once convicted for murder and what it would mean for the royal house if people would learn about their relationship.

He had worried about that himself but there was no worth in worrying over that. He had checked in their constitution and they had no explicit rules against a same-sex relationship, so it was anyway ‘only’ a social problem and not a legal one. And somehow, they would work that out.

Nahyuta nodded determined and looked up to the door. He was as ready as he could be and made his way to his mother’s quarters. Quietly he walked along the halls and passed the guards who were bowing dutifully to their regent. He still wasn’t used or comfortable with their display of loyalty, but he had become really good in hiding his discomfort.

Finally, he had reached his mother’s room. He shot the guards beside the door a short look and dismissed them. He wished for privacy while doing this.

“Mother? May I enter for a talk with you?” Nahyuta calmly asked and laid his hand on the door.

Breathing felt heavier than usual and it was as if something stuck in his throat. Damned shall be his nervousness.

“You may enter.”

Nahyuta nodded to himself and opened the door. Quietly he closed it right behind him and looked around for his mother. A red divan with golden patterns sewed on the cushions, two arm hairs in the same colours, an unusually simple dressing table with a wooden chair in front of it, on which his mother sat.

She sat there upright, with her long hair undone and only wearing a plain pastel pink robe which even reached down to the floor and covered her feet. Somehow, Nahyuta couldn’t help it, he wished he could look just as elegant and pretty as her.

Just as he realized his thoughts, he pushed them away and wandered overt o his mother. Cautiously he looked over to armchair and she followed his look.

“Do sit down. Be comfortable”, She told him and went to them herself.

Gracefully she sat down and pointed him to do the same, which he did obediently. Discreetly he took a calming breath and then turned to his mother.

She eyed him eerily, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to expect of him. Which was natural because Nahyuta rarely just got up to visit her. His time was filled royal appointments or cases. They only really met when they were in session or at official meetings with other countries. Well, that was what Nahyuta told himself at least. He knew that if he really wanted, he could make time for her and vice-versa but apparently neither of them really wanted to do that. Or knew how to do it. Many years of separation lied between them and even after a year they hadn’t figured out how to close this gap.

For a moment Nahyuta wondered if his confession would make things even more awkward between them but then let the thought drop. He had come this far, now he would finish it.

“I need to tell you something. It is very important to me and I need you to listen before you are going to express your thoughts to the matter. Would that be alright with you?” Nahyuta asked his mother and folded his hands in his laps.

Amara barely reacted but the twitching of her eyebrows and a slight curling of her lips. Then she nodded and told him: “I accept. I see this is a personal matter? You want my advice and thoughts as a mother and not as former queen then?”

Nahyuta coughed lightly and lowered his head in agreement. It was strange to him having a mother and judging from her wording it was just as strange to Amara as it was to him. Only a small relief in this situation, though.

“I would prefer that, yes. Even though I suppose you will eventually give me your opinion as former queen concerning this matter anyway. “Not that I blame you. I understand that it is a rather … unfortunate mixture of circumstances but it is not like I had a say in this, so… … I hope you can understand that. “Well. I am with someone. We didn’t give it a label, but we talked about it rather thoroughly and we are together now. This person was really patient and kind to me but doesn’t pamper me nor do they shy away from telling me their honest and unfiltered opinion about the things I do or say. “I am very happy with the development and I do not feel ashamed of them. Also, I know that you are surly content with me finding a partner of sorts, yet I didn’t have the courage to tell you about it because… I… …”

Amara sighed. Then she faintly smiled and drove over her eyes with her hand. As she lowered her arm, she caught Nahyuta’s look and gave him a gentle gaze. Of course, his heart had decided to make it difficult for him. How could it not? He was her son after all, and her heart had gotten her into the most delicate situations she could ever dream of.

“It is that Simon boy, isn’t it?”

Nahyuta wanted to feel surprised. But despite knowing he had not talked too often about Simon to make it obvious that he liked him, and his mother never seeing them together, he was glad that she suspected it. He was relieved that she could imagine him falling for a man. And he was somehow happy that despite the distance in between them she somehow managed to guess his feelings.

Nervously Nahyuta laughed and responded while glancing from his hands up the her: “Yes. It’s him. I like him. Maybe even love him. And I understand that it is not easy for me as regent to be in a such a relationship and it might offend or even anger people but – I never chose this. I could not deny my feelings any longer and he was so great when I talked about it with him and I am so sure that this is what I want and I checked the constitution for laws against our relationship and there aren’t any since we actually legalized it in 2009 and -”

Nahyuta stopped as his mother took his hand and shook her head. Amused with a hint of worry in her eyes, which was not supposed to show through her calming demeanour, she shook her head and told her little boy: “I know about all of these laws, Nahyuta. Your father made the first drafts with Datz for this before you were even born. Ga’ran had to wave it through as the queer people shouted for it and it also made us look ‘developed’ and ‘forward-thinking’ in the international eyes. “And as important as these facts are for you as the regent, but right now I am rather interested in the thoughts of my son about this. Tell me, how did you get together? What was it like for you? Just tell me, what you need to tell. I am sure you have a lot to say about this man, haven’t you?”

This made Nahyuta smile sheepishly. Kindly he laid his other hand on his mothers and squeezed it, while pulling the other one out under hers and pushed his bangs behind his ears. He didn’t think he would be given the chance to talk about such things but apparently his mother was determined to surprise him with this.

“I actually have a lot to say about him. He’s … quite the character after all. “I had feelings for him for a pretty long time now, but I never said a thing. I did not plan to say anything at all, and I was sure it would stay like this but then on the first weekend we had together in our last stay, we started discussing queer stuff and he talked about different concepts and tried to explain them. I didn’t understand it right ahead and asked Klavier to elaborate some more. “Anyway, so I found out that he’s asexual and aromantic.”

Nahyuta stopped and waited for his mother to asked what these terms meant but she never asked. Instead she motioned him to continue.

“Well, uhm, that threw me off and I was really certain now that I could never tell him but Klavier told me that I really needed to, because he could easily tell that I was into him and it would be important for me to do so in order to move on and also that I would never know what could get out of this relationship if I didn’t at least try to do something. “So, I told him on my last Saturday in the States. I knew exactly what I was gonna say and I had thought about many reactions he might have. “But he didn’t react anything like I expected. He – he was just wonderful and understanding and said that he would really like to be closer with me, because he liked me, and I was so excited! “I never felt so excited before! And he looked so happy too! I know that’s probably a weird thing to say about a man that almost always smiles or smirks in some form or shape, but he never really strikes me as a content man. There is always some sort of layer around him and back there… It really felt like he opened up to me. “He trusts me, and I can barely comprehend what this means for him. He’s such a loyal and reliable person and him trusting me is such a huge validation. And I somehow really feel like I deserve it. Like I deserve him. I never thought this could happen. “And he’s so cute! Never tell him that I said this, but it is so cute how he talks about birds or anime or smiles after a genuine compliment. He is so true in these strange little mannerisms and seeing him smiling and happy because of me is the greatest thing ever. “And you have no idea how smart he is. It’s so fantastic seeing him working on cases. The way he looks at a crime scene or interrogates witnesses is outstanding. He just has such an interesting and unique perception of things and I just love to see him think and work and – “I even enjoy him being snarky and cynical and sometimes even grumpy. Most of the time at least. Sometimes it’s annoying and it’s also a rather unhealthy coping mechanism. Also, he can be unreasonably stubborn at times, mostly when something or someone he cares about is at risk. “I do understand why but… He’s working on that part.”

At least Nahyuta wanted to believe that he was working on it. Still he did not want his mother to think that he fell for someone who could not take care of himself or was dangerous in some way. Which Simon wasn’t. He did look after himself, he ate and took time for himself. Just sometimes, at least that was how Nahyuta perceived it, he could do a little bit more for himself. Or simply ask for help.

Yet that was a problem for another day, and he turned back to his gushing over his boyfriend or whatever Simon was.

“And despite all that he’s really supportive and kind. And he enjoys cuddling, which is very fortunate since the Americans somehow are rather weird with body contact. They don’t really hug a lot and I’m glad Simon’s different there.”

There he stopped and looked at his mother, who wore wide smile in her face. He couldn’t know or begin to imagine how much he reminded her just of herself at this very moment. This pure delight in his words and the clumsy adoration in his eyes was the same she had showed after she had gotten to know Dhurke better. Datz could probably sing a song about her infatuation with her late husband.

Slowly she laid her hand on her son’s cheek and chuckled as he flustered. She knew that not only her daughter, but he as well had been denied a childhood and his teens. He had had to grow up so fast and fixate so much on his goal that he never had gotten the time to figure himself out. Never the time to really fall for someone or think about who he really was. He had to fit in his post and fix a mess he was not responsible for when others only had started studying.

Yet she saw that there was something Nahyuta held back from her and so she asked: “Simon sound really good enough. I hope, he’ll be able to accustom to our culture well enough.”

“We’re not gonna marry tomorrow! I’m only twenty-six and we’re together for twelve days and I only saw him on three of these!” Nahyuta interjected and pulled huffily away.

Amara had to contain her amusement of his reaction and only raised her eyebrows at his sulking and shook her head.

“I sure hope you are not gonna marry soon. Still, you are the regent and your partner will need to behave accordingly when he is at your side. And that is not discussable”, she finished and fixed him with preaching look.

Nahyuta sighed and rolled his eyes. Apparently, he would never be able to convince Simon to visit him here then. Because this man would never want to act as some sort of royal consort for the monarch and, honestly, he could not blame him for it.

Still there was the fact that he had to address his past and it was better to do that right away than waiting any longer.

“That might all be true”, Nahyuta began then and shifted a bit on his seat before he caught his mother’s look again, “but there is something that might complicate this situation further.

You remember how I once mentioned that he was in prison?”

Amara nodded her expression hardening at once.

“He was on death row for the murder of his late mentor for psychology. He was innocent and that is proven beyond the shadow of a doubt, but it still happened. I can’t deny that, and I don’t want to deny it as it still is important to Simon. He was willingly sacrificing his life, career and dreams he had worked for so hard just to protect his friend. “I know that. But I don’t know if the people will understand it. Just hearing that he had been in prison might make them deaf for any explanation that follows, and I do not want him to be put under such pressure. “So, can we agree to not make this public, right now? I do understand that it is to be transparent to our people, especially after the hardship they went through these past decades, but please let us not make this too hard for us. I will never matter to the throne. My status is only temporary, and my partner will have no influence on the country’s political situation, anyway. Is that alright?”

For a moment the late queen remained silent. Then she closed her eyes and nodded. Her son and his partner should get the right to live their lives in privacy. Especially since everything Nahyuta usually did was somehow commented and discussed by the press. At least his love life should be under his own control.

“Thank you for your understanding. I’m glad that we’ve got the privilege of privacy for now”, Nahyuta said and bowed his head.

Amara inwardly sighed at the formal tone of her son, but she guessed it was easier for hit to talk with her like this. The cliff their time of separation had opened between them wad almost impossible to cross in her eyes and so she left the formality hang in between them.

Calmly she put a smile on her lips and once more reached for her child’s hand to squeeze it.

“I thank you for coming to me with this. I appreciate your trust”, she told him and let go of his hand.

He replied with a crooked smile and shrugged. How else was he to respond to such a statement?

“And for the time you want to come forth with your relationship publicly, we will have found a way to explain the time of his imprisonment properly. And as I believe you to be a good judge of character, I am sure our people will kindly look over the unjustified time he served in jail.”

Nahyuta nodded and stood up. He hoped she was right and when the time came, Simon wouldn’t have to go through the whole discourse he had went through back when he had just been out of jail.

He wished his mother a good night and went outside. A battle less to fight he thought and started to wander in the direction of his wing. Yet he ended up in the gardens and eventually sat down on the bench under an old magnolia tree. He glanced up at it and let out a long sigh. He was relieved but he still feared for their future and he knew that would not end until he had found a way to come out publicly. And right now, he wasn’t ready to that.

“Your Gracefulness.”

Nahyuta shot around and watched Datz approach in a nonchalant stride. The man had startled him, and he felt like telling him off for it, but let it be as he sat down next to him with this look in his eyes.

“How in the Holy Mother’s name did you know?”

Datz chuckled and kindly patted the young regent’s back. The young man looked at him and Datz winked playfully and answered: “It astonishing, how much you resemble your love-stuck teenage parents, when you’re love-struck yourself.”

“Should have seen that coming, shouldn’t I?”

Datz laughed again and this time Nahyuta grinned with him. The ridiculous man always managed to make him feel a bit lighter.

“So, who is the lucky one?” Datz eventually asked with a calmer voice and a lot less hilarity in his eyes.

Nahyuta huffed and confessed: “It’s Simon.”

For a moment Datz remained silent. Then he turned fully serious and said: “You told your mother, right? You just came from her wing.”

“Yes. She’s supportive.”

“I know. She always was supportive of us. You’re just not in an easy position with this. That’s all.”

Nahyuta gulped. He should have talked about this with Datz a long time ago. He was the only one who had lived his whole life in Khura’in as a queer man, and whom he could trust with all his heart. He just had never dared to ask.

“What is it, Yuty? They won’t ask you what you two do in the bedroom, even if they wanted to know. That’s not how the people are here”, Datz joked and slapped his knee.

Yet Nahyuta didn’t feel like joking. Especially not about that topic.

“There’s nothing happening in the bedroom”, Nahyuta mumbled and immediately got Datz worried.

He knew the tone. It was the far too serious one, Nahyuta had always used when he had felt like everything was going to break into pieces and he had to hold on, even though he couldn’t and didn’t want to.

Awkwardly he cleared his throat and offered: “Well, that’s fine as well, if you wanna wait or whatever it is that stops you, it’s your choice. And none of our business quite honestly.”

Nahyuta faced him and pressed his lip into a thin line. In a rush he lowered his head and stared on his knees before he harshly uttered: “Nothing stops us. He’s asexual.”

Before Datz could say something, Nahyuta looked up again and met his eyes filled with determination and spite.

“And I am too.”

Datz blinked several times and then he rose his eyebrows in slow-motion. He had never thought about that option.

“That’s great”, Datz told him and shot him a wary smile as he wasn’t entirely sure how Nahyuta wanted him to react. He felt that the young man needed some sort of response, but he did not know what that could be.

Yet apparently his answer wasn’t too wrong and Nahyuta softly smiled at him and looked back down on his knees. Tension was leaving his shoulders and for once he let himself slouch a bit forward.

“Kid”, Datz uttered as he observed him with an old sadness in his heart, “what is it? What do you want to hear?”

“Are you disappointed? Or surprised? Or anything? I’m glad you’re not mad, don’t get me wrong but – isn’t this big for you?”

Datz knitted his brows together and watched his former ward watch him in childlike manner. He was looking for Datz’ approval. Some sort of recognition from the man, so he knew what he was doing. And because he didn’t dare to ask for that he packed it into such a question.

He sighed and laid his arm around Nahyuta’s shoulder. This wasn’t his part to play. It was Dhurke’s or Amara’s place to strengthen their son’s picture of himself. But Dhurke wasn’t here anymore and Amara…

He really needed to talk with the former queen. They had pushed that talk away for too long and watching Nahyuta fighting on his own any longer, wasn’t simply an option anymore.

“Ah, âtmâ, you can’t disappoint me with being who you are.”

He pushed some of his lilac hair behind his ear and forced a smile on his lips.

“I am a bit surprised by the news. The thought never crossed my mind, as asexual is not a label I heard of very often, but it is nothing that would worry me and I’m happy that you feel comfortable enough to tell me this. Just, if this is big for you, don’t feel the need to come out to everybody at once. You are a strong person and I know that you like having things out in the open, but rushing this stuff usually isn’t the best idea. Take your time. Figure this out and look with this Simon how it goes. If something changes, it changes. If it won’t, it won’t. These descriptions might not fit for your whole life, so feel free to get a fitting one when you’ve outgrown one.”

As Datz had spoken Nahyuta had laid his head on Datz’s shoulder and the older man started petting his back. He had never wanted kids but as Nahyuta and Apollo had grown, he more and more had turned into one of their trust figures. Especially Yuta lay close by his heart, as he had seen him grow so much over the years. He had been such a calm and delicate kid. With so much sensitivity and understanding of mechanisms that were far to complicated for any adult to comprehend. It had hurt him to see him grow colder and harder over the years, even if he knew that it was necessary for him to get some tough skin in this world.

“Bâbu wouldn’t have told me that, would he?”

Datz laughed at the slightly cynically sounding question of his ward and watched the boy sitting up and clumsily smirking at him.

“He really was rather bad with people coming out to him. I remember quite well how strange it was when I told him that I also liked men. I’ll never forget the look of cluelessness in his eyes. You won’t believe it, but you really saw the wheels in his head turning as it dawned him what I just said. It would have been hilarious, hadn’t I been so nervous.”

“What did he say then?” Nahyuta asked amused and curiously watched his strange uncle.

“’Cool. I don’t know how to be a wingman with men though.’”

Datz started crackling after he had said that, just like he had started to laugh back when he had heard Dhurke say that for the first time. He felt Nahyuta giggling next to him as well and amused shoved him in the side with is elbow.

“I’m glad that I got your advice then”, Nahyuta told him and pulled his legs up on the bench and cradled them against his chest.

As Datz shrugged and huffed, he remembered how furiously Dhurke started to stand up for the queer folk after he had realized that one of them was his best friend. He saw his ignorance and fought strongly for them as he knew that it wasn’t easy for them to just exist. It would have been good had Nahyuta seen more of that side from him. He could have needed this fatherly reassurance.

Yet he did not feel too sad at the moment. Nahyuta looked happy. Not the relieved or excited kind of happy, but the free one. Carefree and true.

“I know nothing about your man of interest but I kinda already like him”, Datz told Nahyuta and got him to glance over to him.

“Why?” he asked not too intrigued and soon looked back to the tree with a soft smile on his lips.

“I’m not sure what he’s doing but I think he helps you finding yourself.”

A long pause formed, and they watched the magnolia tree in the soft lights of the lantern. Datz thought about how nice it would be for Dhurke to see his son here and enjoy the evening with his wife and children, while Nahyuta wished that he could show this to Simon. He was sure that the man would love the aesthetics of this warm summer evening.

“He makes time for me.”

Datz looked over to him and saw an admiring glint sparkle in the green eyes, as he watched a blossom fall and been blown over to the little fountain in the garden.

“He makes me take time for myself. Aggressive self-care. … I haven’t told mother but… He’s not taking care of himself that well. He’s not good at sleeping and asking for assistance doesn’t come easy to him. … I thought about using the same method he uses for me to get him at a better place. I realized it would not work. I’m different. I’m new to a lot of concepts he shows me and as I am in a constant situation of change, I can let it happen more easily. I can catch the things he throws at me, as I’m used to catch and adapt. He’s been stuck, though. Stuck in an image people have of him, stuck in a life he didn’t expect to be like this. He has functioned for so long that he just chose to go on functioning without truly living. Would I force him to look for himself, he would shut down. He wouldn’t be able to adapt. How could he? He had to stand still for so long, while everything was moving, he probably can’t truly imagine what it would be like to change at all.”

Datz listened to his musings and inwardly smiled. Nahyuta had an acute sense for these delicate conversations in people’s heads. It was a skill he certainly shared with his mother and yet Datz had to the suspicion that the man’s sixth sense was actually better than his mother’s.

“What are you planning to do then?”

Nahyuta looked at him and let out a sigh. Then he smiled and straightened up. He pulled up his shoulders and winked with both eyes comedically smirking: “I’ll probably have to aggressively care for him. Reversed logic will be my strategy for now and I believe it might work, considering that he cares so much about others that he might look after himself, when he realizes that I’m worried about him.”

Datz started to chuckle and infected Nahyuta with his laughter. They remained there and soon Datz had motivated him to tell some funny stories about the man of his interest, before Nahyuta bid him goodbye and went back to his room. He got ready for bed and before he laid down he checked his phone for messages.

He blinked at the date and remembered that the 4th of July was that ridiculous Independence Day in the States. Simon probably wasn’t at work today and at such days he only got up around ten in the morning.

He smiled at his phone and opened their chat.

Me: Good morning, my panda ~ Happy Independence Day ❤

It didn’t take a minute until the samurai answered.

Panda❤: evening Sad Monk thank you for the ridiculous wishes for the day some people signed a paper 253 years ago

Me: Considering the fact that you do not care for the the holiday, that year count is rather specific isn’t it?

Panda❤: balderdash

Panda❤: i admittedly am an american and know these patriotic nonsense facts as it was infused in our heads

Nahyuta chuckled quietly and typed nervously his next text

Me: I told my mother today.

Panda❤: … elaborate.

Me: That we are together.

Panda❤: brave move i‘m proud of you that costs a lot of courage especially with family members

Me: Thank you ❤ I was inhumanly nervous^^ But I have difficulty imagining you being nervous coming out to your sister tbh

… Panda❤: you have no idea i was horrible at that moment thought i’d die on the spot

Me: You’re kidding

Panda❤: i’ll prove it the next time you’re here go to sleep now khura’in won’t lead itself tomorrow

Me: Shut up panda

Panda❤: i was just about to do that dream sweet dreams stupid monk

Nahyuta smiled at his phone for some second at their bickering, as a last text rolled in and he that crowned his day.

Panda❤: ❤

Link

[nyctolovian]

It’s Pride, ya dingus!

“Allow me clarify this,” Nahyuta said, holding his hand up. “You met Prosecutor Gavin during investigations with no idea of who he is, had several cases with him, went out with him multiple times on what you now realise are dates—”

“Might be!” Apollo loudly corrected. His face heated up quickly as he slid off the sofa and onto the floor, pressing a Pokémon cushion to his face. He added in a mumble, “Almost dates, I mean.”

The sight was not too unlike what Apollo would do when he was younger and caught in something embarrassing. Nahyuta repeated, “What might be almost dates, and then realised you were six feet deep in love with him when you once woke up drunk on his sofa. Is that right?”

“You know,” Apollo said, forming air quotes, “I think ‘six feet deep in love’ is a bit of a stretch.”

“I will treat that as a confirmation,” Nahyuta said dismissively, earning himself a Pokémon cushion to the face. Snickering, he sent the Swellow flying back at his brother. “You are such a brat,” he huffed. “But, at least that clarifies some things. When you first said that you had feelings for Prosecutor Gavin, I hadn’t considered that you had developed said feelings while interacting with him in real life.”

“What do you mean?” Apollo narrowed his eyes at Nahyuta.

“What I meant to say is that I assumed you might have been one of those fans to his music.”

Wrinkling his nose, he replied, “Have you heard his stuff? It’s migraine-inducing.”

The soft sigh of relief did not go unnoticed. Perhaps Apollo wasn’t the only person in the world who had strong opinions about Klavier’s music.

Nahyuta fiddled with the beads between his fingers. “I suppose this means we can rule celebrity crush entirely out of the list.”

“Even if I had a celebrity crush, it’s not going to be Klavier Gavin.”

Somewhere in Japanifornia, a rock star may have let out a sneeze.

“Actually,” Apollo mused aloud, pressing his finger to the center of his forehead, “what makes it so hard for me to figure things out is kind of because I’ve never had a celebrity crush. Isn’t it pretty common to figure out things out that way? ‘I know I swing whichever way because I thought so-and-so celebrity is hot.’ Right?”

Nahyuta hummed. “I suppose so, yes. That was partly how I found out I was pansexual as well.”

Apollo groaned. “Meanwhile, I’m stuck here with Prosecutor Gavin as my only lead.”

“You are making this sound like a case.”

“Well, it sure feels like it. The case of Apollo’s missing sexuality. It’s been missing for 24 years, I heard.“

“Missing?” Nahyuta laughed. “Well, I’m sure we can find it, Detective.”

***

“Borrowing the speech mannerisms of your country, I must say: I’d tap that.”

Apollo didn’t bother shooting him the withering glare again. It was clear that any signs of exasperation merely fueled Nahyuta to annoy him further. However, feeling the insistent expectant look from his brother on the back of his head, he relented and sighed, “Pass.”

Nahyuta swiped his finger across his phone screen. “What about her?”

Between a yawn, he said, “I’m serious when I say I don’t have a type, and I don’t find anyone hot. We’ve been doing this for a shit ton of people.”

“Language!”

“I’m an adult. I can swear however the fuck and whenever the fuck I want in my own fucking house.”

Nahyuta sighed and shook his head. “Now you are simply using that putrid language just to annoy me. Pray tell then, Apollo, do you kiss Prosecutor Gavin with that filthy mouth?”

“... Shut up.”

Eyes lighting up, Nahyuta typed into his phone and pushed it towards Apollo. “How about this? Surely you find attraction to him.”

On the screen was a quick search for “Klavier Gavin”. The result was a collage of pictures of said man in various states of undress and with hair that ranged from the usual drill to professionally tousled. Apollo shook his head.

“Satorha!”

“Did you just–”

“How could you possibly not find him attractive? Don’t you have feelings for him? If that were the case, how could you not find him... in any form or manner enticing?”

“Entici–“ Apollo huffed. “I mean, he looks good. But I wouldn’t call him ‘enticing’ or ‘hot’ or whatever.”

“I must ask. Do you know the definition of the English word ‘hot’?”

“Yes! I’m not a dumbass, Nahyuta!” Apollo shouted. He whipped out his own phone and did a quick search. “So, for the record, there has been absolute no one who has been able to do any of this.”

“Urban Dictionary? Really?”

Apollo sputtered, “It was the most direct with the definitions, okay? How the hell am I supposed to know what dictionary dot com means by ‘sexually attractive’.”

A smirk stretched Nahyuta’s lips in the most irritating way possible. Apollo could almost hear the murmurs of the peanut gallery that tend to accompany the sinking feeling of saying something stupid in court.

“Look, I needed to know what my college friends were talking about, and it frustrated me when I couldn’t keep up. So I did my research,” he snapped. “Now shut up!”

Despite the huff that hinted that he still had a lot more to say about this matter, Nahyuta let his pitiful flushing brother off the hook and scanned through the words on the screen instead. “None of this? At all?” he asked.

After a rapid mental check off through the list for the nth time, Apollo pulled back. “Yeah.” He slumped back, hugging Swellow to his chest. “None of it. I mean, I know what sexy and beautiful and handsome is. But it’s on a surface level.”

Gently, Nahyuta cocked his head.

“It’s like,” Apollo pouted and pressed his finger to the space between his brow, “if you looked at a music score and saw all the complicated music notes and said it’s hard. You don’t really get how it’s hard because you don’t even know how to read scores, but you know it is probably difficult.”

“I see. So this is similar to what you feel about the concept of hotness?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that makes things difficult.”

“Thank you for finally seeing my problem!” Apollo groaned, throwing his head back.

“Then, is our starting point Prosecutor Gavin once again?”

“Unfortunately, yup.” Apollo straightened up and frowned. “Alright, maybe I’m gay, and I’m just making everything overly complicated!” He was silent for a moment, then, crumbled when he couldn’t convince himself. “I don’t know!” he yelled, clutching the Swellow cushion closer to himself.

“Let us take this step by step. Am I right when I say that you’ve only ever fancied men?”

Apollo flailed his arms in frustration before settling on, “Technically yes!”

“Technically?“

“It could also be someone who isn’t a man.”

Loudly, Nahyuta sighed. “Have you ever fancied anyone who isn’t a man?”

A soft “no” slipped through pouting lips.

“Then, this is mere conjecture.”

Apollo struggled to find the words and fiddled with his bracelet. “But it doesn’t click.”

A long pause. “I am afraid you’ve lost me.”

Apollo chewed his lip. The bracelet was starting to rub his skin red as he spoke, “Because if you’re heterosexual, you like people of the opposite gender. And if you’re homosexual, you like people of the same gender. It’s plural.”

Frustration was seeping into Nahyuta’s voice. “Whatever do you mean?”

“People is plural! If I were gay, I’d like men, right? Plural men, right? But I don’t!”

“But you said you’ve only ever fancied men.”

“One man! Singular! I’ve never liked anyone like this. All weird and embarrassing.” Like a car doomed to crash, he couldn’t stop. “It doesn’t feel right to call myself gay because I don’t like men. Men is plural! It means I’ve looked at other men and was attracted to them! But I’ve only ever liked Klavier Gavin!” Then, his face burst with heat at the realisation of the words that just left his mouth, and he buried his face in the Swellow cushion. “You didn’t hear any of that.”

The doorbell rang.

“Shit,” he breathed. He scrambled clumsily to his feet, still clinging to his cushion, as he opened the door. It was his neighbour.

“Hey, kid,” the middle-aged woman said, rubbing his eyes. “Could you keep your gay crisis to an acceptable volume?”

By some miracle, Apollo felt warmer still as his mouth opened and closed like that of a goldfish, and not a very bright one at that. He floundered about but the woman didn’t wait for him to regain composure.

“Look, puberty is rough and we all love Klavier Gavin, but it’s very late. Some of us are trying to sleep here, alright?” She yawned and spun around. “G’night, kid. Quit screaming.”

With that, she went back to her flat before she could even hear Nahyuta’s wheezing chuckles and Apollo’s pathetic whine, “But I’m twenty-four this year.”

***

“Okay,” Apollo said, actively keeping his volume lowered. “So far, I could be,” he listed off on his fingers, “depressed, taking libido-inhibiting meds, tied down by previous relationships, a late bloomer, or setting my expectations too high.”

“Are you depressed?” Nahyuta asked without looking up from his sudoku game.

“I don’t have the other symptoms.”

“Are you taking any libido-inhibiting medication?”

”Unless someone’s been slipping me pills while I’m asleep, I’m not on any medication. And if we’re going down the entire list, I’ve never been in a relationship; I’d be one hell of a late bloomer if I were one; and I’m not even setting any expectations.” Apollo swiped to the next page. “Huh, this is new. So there is this word. Asexuality.”

Nahyuta quirked an eyebrow. “Asexuality? As in a lack of sexuality? I think I have heard of the word before. I never bothered to look into it, however, since it did not concern me at the time.”

Apollo typed the word in the search bar. “Asexuality is the lack of sexual attraction to others, or low or absent interest in or desire for sexual activity,” he read aloud.

“So do you experience this lack of sexual attraction to others?”

“If that explains why on earth I can’t seem to understand what ‘hot’ even means,” Apollo muttered as he opened Wikipedia.

He scrolled through it silently and moved on to different sites while Nahyuta continued to solve the Sudoku puzzle beside him.

At the third Sudoku puzzle, Apollo spoke, “So apparently, people are still unsure if this is a real sexuality. Some people say it’s a disorder and a dysfunction of sorts.”

When Nahyuta stuck out his hand, Apollo gave the phone to him. “Well, there always seem to be people who have something to say about the validity of almost every other sexuality. Homophobes, biphobes, or transphobes for instance.”

That drew a shrug from Apollo. “And, it’s also a spectrum... It varies from person to person and moment to moment for some. Aroflux... demi... gray... Oh, and some people have differing sexual and romantic orientations too. Like aro ace? Pan ace? Gay ace? Damn, it’s basically a mix and match.”

“But do you find that asexuality applies to you though?”

Did it? Apollo asked himself. While reading the experiences that asexual people had shared to the web, he found himself nodding along. He had let out a few huffs of laughter at the humorously recounted incidents of confusion, exasperation and joy. They were millions of inside jokes — inside jokes that he could understand.

“Yeah. I think it applies to me,” he muttered. “But then... what does that make Klavier Gavin? A contradiction?”

Nahyuta hummed in thought, tapping away on his own phone.

“Hold up.” Apollo smacked the sofa. “But it’s not like I find him sexually attractive. So he isn’t a contradiction. He kind of supports the fact that I’m ace. So I just never have sexual attraction at all. Even with Klavier Gavin.”

“Well, you could be one of those people whose sexual and romantic orientation differ. Similar to the ones you mentioned just now. Bi ace and so on.”

“Could be, huh.” He scrolled through the page, searching. Then, he found the word.

Only after building an emotional connection. He recalled the way he gradually became a little more immune to glimmerous things, the way the purple turned less obnoxious and more endearing, and the way rev of a motorcycle engine grew from a source of annoyance to something that hinted to a more tolerable day and a night of laughter.

“Yup. Demiromantic sounds right,” he decided.

Nahyuta hummed. “Well, don’t you suppose that the case is solved, detective?”

“I’m a demi ace.”

The words tasted weird on his tongue. It was unfamiliar and he didn’t even know if he was saying it right, but it felt good to have a word for the things he experienced, and also perhaps the things he didn’t experience. From the inability to understand the world’s frothing obsession with other people’s naked bodies, to the frustration at why it seemed like the world saw everything as sexual, to the awkwardness of using the word “hot” or “sexy”. It clicked for Apollo, like a gear slotting into place. It made sense to him. And it finally felt like there was... a word for himself.

It felt pretty good.

A/N: Hell yeah. ACE Attorney.

[pinksweatergettingbetter]

warning, the following has mainly snarky (and possibly furious) opinions on Spirit of Justice. Reader discretion is advised.

Okay folks. this is it. part 1 of the final chapter

here we go.

-

trial day 2?? oh yeah i forgot they split this game up in the worst, uneven way possible 

-

wow that cutscene was

something alright

-

wow datz actually managed to hold onto the snow globe. kudos?

-

what the fuck

i think i heard it wrong but Dhurke’s objection sounds like an old man 

I'm pretty sure i heard it wrong 

missed the bass

-

who was that no– oh Garananana

i guess she's gonna be the final boss instead huh

- 

im so tired i cant even snark properly 

-

“is that kosher?”

i like it

-

oh god

what.... what is she wearing 

i mean

fuckin

TALK about madonna-whore complex. oh yeah, time to turn super evil?? bear your midriff! show off dem tiddies! 

look, SOJ. theres only one bad bitch in ace attorney who can pull off floaty tendril hair, and its NOT ga’ran.

i cant believe i have to look at this train wreck for the rest of the trial

-

“heh heh heh. its all coming back now. the feel of my blood pumping through my veins”

this is perhaps because youre actually moving now, your eminence.

-

can we just dispense with the trial and have a good old fashioned anime fight? cmon apollo, spike up that hair and grab your BFS. 

-

“meep”

WHATS WITH THE MEEPING

BONNY DID THAT TOO

SOJ ITS 2016 ...ACTUALLY ITS 2028 YOU HOLES

-

everyone in the court: :O what??? whats wrong with rayfa??? why is she sad???

oh i dunno maybe because her fucking Father just got brutally murdered?? maybe??

what the fuck is up with SOJ characters being dumb as a bag of bricks when it comes to other peoples’ feelings regarding death of loved ones???

-

phoenix: shits fucked, thats why?? apollo: OHHHHHHHHHHHHH

-

“seems like she's worse off today than she was yesterday”

hey game you'd better not be implying any shit 

-

“discipline”

soj

-

alright, back after another longass break. i can do this.

( That’s oddly compassionate of him, all things considered )

I was about to defend Nahyuta because what kind of person wouldn’t try to spare a child from witnessing that kind of trauma... but then again, this is the Sadmad who purposefully tried to trigger someone into losing a trial so

(shrug emoji)

-

grana’s gone into full HORHORHOR BITCH MODE 

partially I'm totally numb because i dont have any stakes in her newfound ebilness, and partially I'm tired of this weird new trend of child abuse in the new games 

- 

“Barbed head.”

oh my god 

the first person she goes to after realizing that her caretaker is gone is fucking Phoenix 

im gonna cry 

“ive been reduced to “royal robe remover”” NO NICK YOU’VE BEEN UPGRADED TO DAD BY SOMEONE WHO’S NOT YOU

( ‘It’s like she’s grooming Mr. Wright to be Nayna’s replacement’) 

I know this game is all about confusing bullshit for heartwarming moments and vice versa but guys 

good lord

my heart

i really needed that 

-

(sigh) they really couldn’t get someone who sounded like a fucking 14 year old to do her voice?? really???

-

rayfa: (looks like she's going to die and collapses)

apollo: this is not good...

gee apollo you really think so? 

-

wait a fuking second 

we went through the whole dance cutscene and we’re not even going to see the pool??? does that mean the priestess has to be conscious and present for the images to be visible? ...and how does that work, anyway? 

i just realized, a medium could use a pool to see the dead, but how the hell could they project it for others to see?? does she literally open a portal to hell???

(sigh) i just regret sitting through that cutscene again

-

“cabal of traitorous lawyers”

i love that

-

(Seriously Dhurke? This is no laughing matter.)

this basically sums up Dhurke’s entire personality 

...yknow, i know what they were trying to do with his character– i really do. i know he’s supposed to come off as a dashing, cavalier rebel who laughs in the face of danger. 

but they overshot endearingly irreverent and ploughed straight into fuckwaddome. if you want a character to be charming, they need softer moments too. Dhurke isn’t a bad person, but he’s kind of an asshole when you get right down to it, and nothing so far is proving otherwise. 

-

ok ive heard Dhurke’s Objection again and it doesn't sound like an old man– it just sounds about as overblown and ridiculous as Manfred von Karma’s (not to mention about as deep)

-

LET DHURKE SAY BITCH

... i guess

-

another perfect example of Dhurke being kind of a fuckwad: he keeps needling the queen and baiting her in ways that could get himself killed, which would be all fine and dandy if he were the brave resistance leader being tortured for information in the bowels of a dungeon.

...but here’s the thing.

IF YOU DIE, DHURKE, APOLLO AND PHOENIX DIE TOO. DID YOU FORGET ABOUT THE GODDAMN DC ACT? ITS NOT JUST YOUR DEAD ASS ON THE LINE HERE SO SHUT YOUR SASSY TRAP AND THINK ABOUT SOMETHING OTHER THAN YOUR *AMAZING WIT* FOR ONCE.

you’ve got 2 extra lives on the line here.

...3 if my suspicions are correct.

-

stop calling him son please you abandoned him in an orphanage and didnt contact him for 14 years.

...and if he can’t call you ‘dad’ you have no right to call him ‘son’

-

coming back to this after ghost trick has convinced me that one of ga’ran’s lackeys miiiiiight be related to Cabanela, baby

-

“Wright... I can see we are kindred spirits, you and I! Hah-ha ha ha ha ha!!”

NO

NO 

NO

NO

FUCK YOU DHURKE 

-

“It’s pretty easy to spot the difference between a soulless man and the soulless shell of a man”

ok that did get a laugh out of me, good job dhurke.

-

apollo: pls dont get us killed dhurke: mmmm ok ill try but I'm not promising anything lol

://///

-

“But remember, son, if you truly believe in me, you should be able to prove my innocence.”

do i even have to list how many reasons thats wrong and a shitty thing to say

-

“Such Insolence”

You’ve been beat out, Not So Fast

-

Ga’ran used Gust!

Apollo flinched and couldn’t move!

-

“I could behead you at any time”

she's got a point; she’s a fucking despot, there’s no reason to actually hold a trial. i mean i guess she wants to shut up the rebels but just killing them would be a lot easier and its not like she has any qualms about murder

-

“Aw shoot, ya got me.”

again, not an appropriate reaction for whats going on buddy

-

lol get fucked kjudge

-

DGFUFUS OH COOL

WE GOT GUILTY (excited cheers from the audience)

the applause and the shots of everyone with :O faces is making me feel like i just won a gameshow 

wheres my cheesy jingle 

-

also i love how Dhurke’s like “oh shit!! my assholishness has directly resulted in my son’s death!!! did NOT see that coming!!!!!!!!!”

-

again the sound mixing is drowning out the background music (sigh)

-

“your benevolence? I’d be happy to lend an ear if you’d like to talk!”

>this is it, this is why he leaves the series guys. Apollo is too good for these sinful games.

-

DAMNIT DHURKE, YOUR SHIT MOUTH IS RUBBING OFF ON YOUR SON

-

hmm

we’ve got an april may here

-

“Rayfa, I shall buy you a new servant”

so Kooraheen practices slavery..? I mean, she.... she said ‘buy’, not hire.

-

“she would have left shoeprints”

do

do you know what evaporation is your malevolence 

-

wait wait wait

that doesn't make any sense 

the only prints leading out are from Inga, but the prints inside the building are from Nayna? how did she avoid leaving prints leading inside, then?? did she just long-jump over the dirt path???

-

the guards are not fanboying, apollo, they’re toadying. there’s a difference.

-

apollo: maybe the place he was stabbed and the place he died were different 

(the game only continues after you carefully explain what dying of blood loss is three years later)

-

to be completely fair, there are actually stories of people who were unaware of being stabbed 

furthermore, when you get stabbed, you’re not going to be the most rational human being on earth. 

phoenix, don’t give sadmad that point, especially when he’s currently assaulting your protege 

now, as i was saying, Apollo’s suggestion that Inga was stabbed in the back and then ran into the temple is perfectly plausible; running to shelter from an attacker is probably the first thing you’d want to do when injured, and the tomb was a pretty safe place, i’d wager. 

tbh i really don’t know why they’re arguing about him feeling the pain as that wouldn’t really impair his movement considering he was stabbed in a place that wouldn’t affect his ability to walk???

but yeah apparently he was doped up to shit so 

-

...i highly doubt back pain medication is strong enough to negate a stab wound. on the other hand, if it is and your back pain is THAT intense, Inga, you need to see a fucking doctor pronto.

...yeah shots straight into the spine is one step away from surgery; not to be an asshole but I'm not sure Inga was doing so well anyway before he went 

-

huh. are they really gonna give us an actual choosable choice to abandon Dhurke and save our own skin? Cause that would be interesting; a lot like the old games where you could “”choose”” to defend a client or not.

to be clear here, though, i wouldn't choose “no” even as much as i dislike dhurke. we know (sigh) that he’s innocent, and even if i dont like him it’s our duty to defend his shitty ass

OH HOLY FUCK

THERES THE CHOICE

wow. y’know SOJ, i dont much like you, but you fuckin Did That. well done.

also thank you for the Justice pun it is much appreciated.

-

“And while I can’t say I’m used to it, this isn’t exactly my first rodeo”

FWHAT

>game flashes back to the Ahlbi case

DSKJFLS THIS IS LITERALLY THE “at second rodeo: this isn't my first rodeo” POST

-

YES OK WE’VE SEEN THIS CUTSCENE TWICE NOW ALREADY

WE GET IT, RAYFAS GOT COLD FEET ABOUT BEING QUEEN

MAYAS IN THE GAME 

OK

-

phoenix: allow me to mansplain how rayfa is feeling despite how fucking obvious it is. after all, we know our players have the mental and emotional capacity of goldfish!

oh hey mansplain is a legit word in the dictionary 

cool!

-

why are they building this up?? just fucking tell Rayfa to do her stupid dance again and get on with it; we already did this at the beginning of the trial 

-

“Hmm... Indeed. It would be problematic.”

ohohoooohohohhhihgjhgo

-

oh her nails are actually tiny pen 

thats neat 

thank goodness Kooraheeneese is an up-and-down written language– otherwise they’d have to make a whole new animation for the english game teehee

-

“....................But... Horn Head needs my help”

oh my heart

-

dan she just straight up begone’d her 

-

see the one thing that falls flat here is that, during a regular trial, the prosecution saying “oh, ok, have it your way; you can try to prove your theory” holds up a little more since they... you know. don’t have absolute power.

where as, with Garananana, its more like she's just a huge posturing pushover. especially since every other minute she's saying “ok, I'm gonna kill you for REAL now.”

-

rayfa: b but if i fail you'll be killed!!! i dont get it...

apollo: i literally just finished explaining that I'm 100% ready to die for my shitty job that was like 5 minutes ago

it is sweet to see that he’s cheering her on though. good big bro 

-

I'm finding small solace in this beautiful moment of “your foreign dad and bro are here for you babe reach for the stars”

Athena’s probably flashing a double thumbs up from the gallery too

-

“But... I finally know now. I know in what I can trust”

Bobby, from the afterlife: YOU’RE DOING AMAZING SWEETIE 

-

Garan: What??? my tiny 14 year old daughter is going to do a thing i don’t want her to??? fuck there’s no way i can shut her up. not even with all of my large adult man guards who could easily just escort her out of the courtroom without any resistance because they’re my fucking royal guards and I'm the Queen

-

oh shit she took off her own cape

im so glad i muted the game so her awful voice actress couldn’t ruin this cool moment

-

and now as this long ass cutscene plays out again, i simply cannot help but wonder about the poor choir and how long they’ve been on standby 

where do they keep the choir during trials 

whats it like singing the dance of devotion song every trial 

-

oh finally here we go. alright, lets see what the magic party pool has in store for us this time 

...o ...ok then

-

OH! OH SHIT 

Inga’s face blind?!

Y’know I did have a few thoughts about that when we discovered his notebook but I didn’t think they’d actually go that route... though, thinking about it now, it is pretty convenient.

...ok everyone’s freaking out. maybe they’ve never heard of face-blindness? ...or maybe its not face blindness after all

im pretty sure it is though

-

i dont know why but everyone being like FUCK ITS GOD and phoenix being like “whoops shits trippy now” made me laugh pretty hard

-

ok i gotta say I'm actually a little invested now, even if its just because i think face-blindness is an interesting thing to incorporate into a murder case. again, a convenient thing, but an interesting thing all the same.

-

ahh fuck i keep forgetting how the stupid seance works 

welp, there goes one of my souls... (sigh)

-

..apollo you dont need to show her the picture of her dead father to say “he had a cell phone”.

-

the voice was coming from INSIDE THE PHONE 

-

RAYFA HAS A PET FROG????

WHAT

SHOW US THE FROG SOJ

SHOW US THE FROG! SHOW US THE FROG! SHOW US THE FROG! 

-

...why would Rayfa interpret the sound of the warbaa’d (something she’s familiar with) with a lion’s roar (something she’s unfamiliar with) ??

-

oh i see thats why Vore Machine is an idiot 

for plot convenience 

-

Datz Are’bal, a man who throws fire crackers at children.

...sounds like an are’bal guy.

bahdum-tshh

-

“The joker who got a kick out of startling Ahlbi with his Dragon Snot Snaps”

...something tells me that if Datz found out about Youtube, he’d be one of those “””prank””” channels.

also WHY ARE THEY CALLED SNOT SNAPS

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

-

“happy-go-lucky”

i think you mean vaguely sociopathic

-

(sigh) ive finally been worn down to the point where i need a walkthrough. ive... been beaten...

-

boy ahlbi’s just a font of knowledge isn't he 

-

DID SHE JUST BREAK HER NAILS OFF

PLEASE SAY THOSE WERE STICK ONS

HOL SHIT

-

MMMM LAY IT ON ME NICK

face blindness 

... i mean theyre not calling it that but thats what it is 

-

yeah yeah channeling blah blah come on! youre in the LAND of channeling !

-

shduhjahdjk

I'm picturing Inga running into his own dead body and flipping his shit 

-

oh man. thats the end of Trail 2 part 1.

guess i’ll see you guys on the other side... heheh. 

[gyakutengagotoku]

GSvsAA - Spirit of Justice - Character Profiles

Following the AJ and DD ones, here’s the last of the second trilogy. From here, I’ll be jumping back to AAI and I’ll see how I’ll tackle it later. Perhaps it’ll be easier if I go in order of the files and work out the in-game sequence afterward. We’ll see.

Master post. I’ll update it later when I have time.

Since there’s already a thread for these names on Court-Records, I’ll be brief with the entries this time, unless I find some extra trivia to add. And while it’s atypical of me, I’ll share my speculation on the origin of some less obvious puns for the English names too.

Spoilers ahead.

Main cast

Rayfa Padma Khura’in (レイファ・パドマ・クライン) rei is “spirit”; while the reibana (霊花) is an alternate name for the higanbana (彼岸花), aka the Lycoris Radiata, an ominous red flower that grows in Buddhist Hell and is said to guide spirits into the next reincarnation. It’s frequently seen in funerals. Fyi, the higan refers to the "other side” of the Sanzu River, which is similar to the River Styx. padma means “lotus” in Sanskrit. Khura’in was taken from the Kurain we know, which in turn has been taken from the Klein Bottle. Trivia: Her Song of Ceremony is sung completely in Japanese. By that logic, we could have expected an English dub, but I guess Capcom US wasn’t interested, since they only gave us subtitles instead. A few internal game files have given her name as “Honfa”. I can only guess it’s referring to how she’s the central (hon) character to this game. Also, she’s the kind of girl who would be pretty “serious” (honki) about her roles.

Edit: Added a link to the official source of “Kurain”.

Nahyuta Sahdmadhi (ナユタ・サードマディ) Previously, we thought nayuta was the Sanskrit word, meaning “myriad” (or in some East Asian languages, “10^26 or 27), but as it turned out, it’s just the name of someone Yamazaki knew from his university. It was originally a placeholder name, but Eshiro liked it so much it came to be. His last name is based on the phrase hotoke no kao mo sando made, “Even the Buddha will get angry if you brush his face thrice,” or in other words, “Even the Buddha has limits.” It also may come from the Sanskrit word samadhi, a state of meditative consciousness. Trivia: Throughout the game are scattered references to the classic Chinese novel Journey to the West, and he gives us three. Three times he gets to bind a defense attorney, referring to the three disciples of Monk Tang, the novel’s protagonist. Apollo is bound on the head; Sun Wukong is restrained by a magical crown that shrinks when a certain sutra is chanted. Athena's arms are bound; Zhu Bajie has been bound several times throughout the story due to his lewd and disrespectful tendencies. Phoenix’s favorite arm is bound. While there aren’t any particular instances of Sha Wujing’s arm being bound (that I can recall), he’s always been the most responsible of the disciples and is somewhat gullible compared to the other two. :3

Ahlbi Ur’gaid - Bokuto Tsuani (ボクト・ツアーニ) His name comes to “boku to tsua- ni”, or “on a tour with me”.

Shah’do - Mitamaru (ミタマル) mitama is “soul”; maru is a common ending to a boy’s name. He’s a “soul[ja] boy”! I’m sorry, I won’t do that again. His English name, literally “shadow”, may refer to how he’s always tagging along by Ahlbi’s side. Trivia: Shah’do is in fact the only non-human character in the entire series to play the part of the main cast in a game. He even got his own character entry, complete with quote, on the official site! Sadly, I have no idea what he actually says.

Episode 1

Pees’lubn Andistan’dhin - Potdino Nikawas (ポットディーノ・ニカワス) pottode means “coming out of nowhere” and niwaka means “suddenly”, likely referring to how he appeared in the intro out of the blue to join this country’s religious practitioners. din in Arabic means “religion” or “way of life”. Also, DEEN, pronounced with a long e-sound, is the name of a well-known Japanese rock band. Trivia: According to a tweet from Eshiro, this guy’s name is officially “Nikawas”, but for the longest time he and some others mistook it as “Niwakas”, which made it into the final release.

Paht Rohl - Miima Waruhito (ミーマ・ワルヒト) mimawaru is “to patrol”, so his name becomes “patrolling person”. Aslo, waru can mean “bad”, so he’s also not such a good person as he seemed.

Episode 2

Bonny de Famme - Nanano Mimi (菜々野 美々) If you flip the kanji in her last name, they make yasai (野菜), meaning “vegetable”. mimi is “ears”. de Famme probably comes from “defame”, given her and her sisters’ machinations behind the scenes. 

Betty de Famme - Nanano Kiki (菜々野 輝々) Kiki is named like her sister, though kikimimi means “ears poised for listening”. Also, the sound a bat makes is often romanized in Japanese as a ki sound.

Roger Retinz - Shinoyama Kanenari (志乃山 金成) It’s custom in Japanese TV production slang to switch syllables of a name or saying around, so we switch his name around. Shinoyama becomes yamashino, and Kanenari becomes narikin (金 can be pronounced kin). Thus, yamashi no narikin means “a swindling nouveau riche”.

Mr. Reus - Mr. Menyo (Mr. メンヨー) menyou (面妖) is “strange” or “suspicious”. I’ve heard speculation from other fans that Reus can be switched around to make “ruse”, as he is a masterful magician. His real name, Manov Mistree, is originally Fushigi Naohito (伏木 直人). fushigi na hito means “a mysterious person”.

Episode 3

Tahrust Inmee - Marmer Ahtam (マルメル・アータム) marumeru is “to make bald” and atama is “head”.

Beh’leeb Inmee - Sahra Ahtam (サーラ・アータム) sarasara is onom. for “silky” or “flowing”, in this case referring to her hair.

(Between these two, I can’t quite make out why they would choose these names, since they seem like very generic puns for witnesses in a case. Perhaps that’s the point?)

Puhray Zeh’lot - Ogam Mainiche (オガム・マイニーチェ) ogamu is “to worship”, and mainichi is “every day”, so it’s “pray every day”. His real name is Reehl Neh’mu, and its Japanese counterpart is Fon Myo, from honmyou, “real name”.

A’nohn Ihmus - Nanashiino Gonbe (Tent.) (ナナシーノ・ゴンビェ（仮）) Yes, the “tentative” is part of his name. nanashi no gonbee (名無しの権兵衛) is an anonymous or unidentified name, like “John Doe”.

Datz Are’bal - Datz Dinigel (ダッツ・ディニゲル) His complete name comes from datto de nigeru (脱兎で逃げる), or “fleeing as fast as I can”. Interestingly, his English name gets to keep the same first name, thus making “that’s a rebel” or “that’s horrible” (the latter probably regarding how he first looks on his wanted poster, but I’m not as sure about this one).

Lady Kee’ra - Torihime-sama (鳥姫様) It literally means “Bird Princess”, but it’s not an actual name. I was surprised to learn that she got a name in the English version. Her real name is Ihmsan, which is the same in the JP version. I’m not sure about the whole pun here, but imu is a verb meaning “to avoid, shun”, like a taboo. It’s supposedly taboo to say her name.

Edit: Okay, so it’s actually based on imu, 仏, in this case meaning, “a dead body” and the honorary suffix san. It’s referring to her killing spree. (The same kanji when pronounced hotoke is referring to the Buddha or someone with such imagery, though it applies less to her.)

Plumed Punisher - Torisaman (トリサマン) It’s an offshoot of Tonosaman, aka The Steel Samurai, but with tori for “bird”. Btw, Tonosaman comes from tono-sama, “lord”, and the word “man”.

Episode 4

Bucky Whet - Uchidate Susuru (内舘 すする) uchitate is “freshly kneaded”, while susuru is “to slurp”. His English name is from “buckwheat”, the kind of dough commonly used to make soba noodles. Interestingly, the embroidery on his lapel reads 上戸, ueto, but pronounced as jougo, it means “hard drinker”.

Taifu Toneido - Senpuutei Bakufuu (旋風亭 獏風) senpuu is “hurricane”; bakufuu is “blast”, like of wind or from an explosion. The tei (亭) is an honorary suffix that’s added to the pseudonym of a rakugo performer.

Geiru Toneido - Senpuutei Puuko (旋風亭 風子) I think Puuko was just chosen for its cuteness. The first kanji in her name is the one for “wind”, and ko is a common ending for a girl’s name.

Uendo Toneido - Senpuutei Bifuu (旋風亭 美風) bifuu, written as 微風, is “breeze”. His other personalities are named after rakugo characters. Kisegawa is the same in both versions. Her name is from the story Omitate (”The Choice”). Patches is Ippachi, and Owen is Sadakichi. Both appear in various rakugo plays and are well known stock characters; Ippachi as taikomochi (a male geisha) and Sadakichi as an apprentice. Trivia: Patches and Kisegawa speak in nonstandard dialects. I’m not quite sure which, though, so if someone could lend a hand, I’ll be happy.

Jugemu (ジュゲム) He’s named after the titular character of the rakugo play, Jegemu.

Episode 5

Dhurke Sahdmadhi (ドゥルク・サードマディ) It’s probably from Druk, the Bhutanese thunder dragon and their national symbol. There was even lightning behind him when we saw his silhouette in the anime prologue. Not to mention, Druk is also the “king” and “protector” of Bhutan; kinda like how this guy was nominal king of his country too.

Paul Atison - Kiyoki Masaharu (清木 政治) kiyoki means “proper” or “clean”; the kanji in his given name, when read as seiji, mean “politics”. It’s also this alternate pronunciation that makes it into his email. For comparison, in English, his full name is “Paul Atison Wimperson”, thus making his initials in his email “PAW”. (Coincidentally, he is kind of a “dog”, and not the kind I love. >:3c )

Archie Buff - Sanagi Fumiaki (佐奈樹 文明) sanagi is “pupa”; and the kanji in his first name, read as bunmei, mean “civilization”.

Sergeant Buff - Sergeant Sanagi (佐奈樹 軍曹) aka Armie Buff - Sanagi Philnelia (佐奈樹 ヒルネリア) Her name is probably from hirune, for “afternoon nap”. She’s a shut-in and is seen wearing her pajamas even well into the afternoon. (The colors are actually based on the Japanese air self-defense force uniform, but they look like pajamas.)

Ga’ran Sigatar Khura’in (ガラン・シガタール・クライン) garan is a Buddhist temple; namely, the “seven halls” that make up temple grounds. Her middle name may come from shi, kataru (死、語る), meaning “death speaks”.

Inga Karkhuul Khura’in (インガ・カルクール・クライン) inga means “karma” or “cause and effect”; karakuru is “to manipulate”. The rest of his name falls into the joke with Jugemu (wiki page linked above in Jugemu’s entry). (If someone could also help me break down his incredibly long full name in Japanese, that’d be great. I’m hoping it has a little more substance than “How could this name be any longer and more pompous than it already is”.)

Nayna - Baaya (バアヤ) Her name isn’t so much a name as it’s Rayfa calling her “granny”.

Amara Sigatar Khura’in (アマラ・シガタール・クライン) amala (阿摩羅) is a number, 10^23, and also a Buddhist term: Amalavijñāna, the highest level of “consciousness”. amara also means “immortal” in Sanskrit, having survived two assassination attempts. In her case, her middle name also refers to shi wo kataru (死を騙る), “faking a death”.

Jove Justice - Odoroki Sousuke (王泥喜 奏介) It’s almost the same as Apollo’s name, but the hou replaced by sou (奏), for “play music”. So, “Surprise! Here’s a music boy!” I mean, I couldn’t exactly use “play boy” since that sounds wrong...

DLC Episode

Ellen Wyatt - Outsubu Shizuku (大津部 雫) outsubu means “a large amount”, particularly of something small; shizuku is “a drop”. So, yeah, lots of tears.

Sorin Sprocket - Haguruma Raito (八久留間 来人) haguruma is a “gear”. Raito sounds like “light” as well as “Wright”, as in the Wright Brothers. (It has nothing to do with Nick or Trucy. Nick is forever earth-bound anyway.)

Pierce Nichody - Juumonji Kazuharu (十文字 一治) The kanji in his surname make up “character for ten”, which is 十, a cross. It’s likely referring to health organizations like the Red Cross. The kanji of his first name are “one” and “heal”, respectively; referring to his hard choice while he was still a surgeon.

Dumas Gloomsbury - Yonekura Seiji (米倉 静次) nekura is “gloomy”, “dark”. Perhaps his first name is from seijou (清浄), meaning “clean”; as in, he was innocent of the crash incident.

Edit: Okay, so Ash has told me that I made a wrong guess. The only other idea I can surmise is seji (世事), “ways of the world”, so that it works as nekura na seji to make “a gloomy world”.

Edit 2: And another wrong guess. Okay, I’m out of ideas. As I mentioned above, seiji as 政治 is “politics”, but the only connection I can make with him is how the Sprockets are indirectly tied into it and how he’s been made a scapegoat.

Selena Sprocket - Haguruma Hikari (八久留間 ひかり) hikari is “light”, to match her brother’s name.

Extra: Locations

Tehm’pul Temple - Ji-in Temple (ジーイン寺院) ji’in is “temple”, so the name is a repeat of the same word. Hence the English name.

Penrose Theater - Trompe Theater (トロンプ劇場) It’s from the French “trompe-l'œil​“, the art technique that creates 3D optical illusions from realistic 2D images. Penrose is likely from the impossible triangle, popularized by mathematician Roger Penrose.

Take-2 TV - Nidomi TV (ニドミテレビ) nidomi (二度見) is to “look twice” or “double take”, as in surprise. How convenient that in English, “take” has another appropriate definition.

Kurukurutei (来来亭) It means “Come Come Place” (the tei actually means “pavilion” in other contexts). Incidentally, that tei is also a suffix to denote a place as a restaurant. Trivia: Ash@C-R has noted that there’s a ramen restaurant chain in Japan with the same name but different pronunciation, but it’s probably a coincidence.

Alright, with that, I clean my hands for tackling AAI in the coming several days, but I expect delays over this weekend. I’ll be heading out of town for a day.

[aceprosecuties]

So I've been really sick lately, and I was thinking about some sick day Blackmadhi. Like Simon doesn't hear from Nahyuta for a while and is worried but turns out he's sick with an especially bad flu. Simon immediately flys out to him in Khurain, to find him bedridden and really ill and sore. He's still infuriatingly pretty to Simon even when he's coughing, has a running nose, has to stick his head into a bin to throw up every hour but maybe that's the love talking. Que fussy boyfriend Simon

Ah,oh no!  I feel like so many people aresick lately and I hope you and everyone else gets better!  In case you’re interested, I did write aBlackmadhi sickficlet thing here, with sick Simon, so I’m glad you asked forthe other way around!  I hope you gethealthy again soon lovie

-----

Simon’sleg was bouncing rather uncontrollably while he tried to focus on the papers infront of him on his desk.  He kepttapping his pen on the wood, periodically checking his phone to see if Nahyutahad finally gotten back to him.  It hadbeen a few days now, and Simon hadn’t stopped worrying, which had culminated inhim being even more hostile towards everyone who dared speak to him.  At one point yesterday, Debeste had asked hima rather stupid question, and Simon had scared him to the point of tears,leading to a harsh scolding from his boss.

Nahyutahad said he was feeling a bit under the weather the last he spoke with him, andof course with every day that went by without any contact, Simon startedfearing that what Nahyuta had originally believed was just a minor illness wasactually something major.  What if he wasin the hospital?  Simon didn’t trustNahyuta’s advisers to let him rest when he needed to…what if they overworkedhim too much that he collapsed?

Many ofthe scenarios that Simon thought of were a bit far-fetched, but evenrecognizing that did little to alleviate his fears.  Soon…he caved.  He marched to Gavin’s office and banged onthe door, not even waiting for an answer before barging in.  Klavier was sitting on his ridiculous chair,and jumped a bit when his frightening coworker was suddenly barreling towardshim.

(this got longgg)

“HerrBlackquill!  What are you-”

“Silence, Gavin-dono.  I need you to give me Justice-dono’s phonenumber.  I know you have it.”

Klavierraised one of his eyebrows in curiosity and confusion.  “First off, Herr Blackquill, yelling atsomeone and then demanding a favor from that someone usually doesn’t lead tomuch success.  Secondly…why do you wantForehead’s number?  Since when did youand Forehead suddenly become close friends?”

Right…Klavierdidn’t know about Simon’s relationship with Nahyuta.  He had his inklings, but Simon neverconfirmed anything, much to his frustration. Simon growled, because Klavier suddenly had a large smug smile on hisface.

“Justgive me the number, Gavin-dono.”

“Itwould be highly irresponsible of meto just give our Forehead’s number to anyone who asks for it.  I need a good reason.”

“Ineed his advice on a case.”

“That’sthe worst lie you’ve ever told, HerrBlackquill.”  Klavier started lookingthrough his phone, humming some obnoxious tune while Simon fantasized aboutthrottling the man.  “Maybe…it isn’t Forehead that you wish to speakwith?”

“I do want to speak with him.”

“Aboutwhat? Or rather…about whom?”

Simongrowled again, but he knew he wasn’t about to intimidate Klavier into givinghim the number.  Not while Klavier lookedas arrogant as he currently did.  Hequickly thought about it, but his fears about Nahyuta’s well-being quicklyovercame his desire to not give Klavier Gavin what he wanted.  

“Fine, Gavin-dono, you win.  I want to call Justice-dono aboutNahyuta.  He’s been out of contact and Ijust want to make sure he is okay.”

“AboutHerr Sahdmadhi?  Now why would you care about him?”

“You’retreading on very thin ice, Gavin,” Simon snapped, deliberately omitting thehonorific.  But it did not faze Klavier,who just threw his hands behind his head. Simon could feel his eye twitch.  “Nahyutaand I have been seeing each other, alright? Now give me that number.”

“I knew it,” Klavier shouted, standing upin his excitement.  “I want to know-”

“Not right now,” Simon interrupted.  “Just-”

“Ja, ja. Here,” Klavier said, while texting Apollo’s number to Simon.  Once Simon heard his phone’s text alertsound, he was spinning on his heels and walking out the door, dialingApollo.  He heard Klavier shout out asarcastic “you’re welcome,” but he ignored it in favor of focusing on theringing tone coming through his speaker.

Apolloanswered, sounding somewhat hesitant. Probably because it was a number he didn’t recognize aside from thecountry and area codes.  Simon didn’tcare, though.  

“Justice-dono!”

“P-ProsecutorBlackquill?  Is that you?”

“Yes,I must ask you something.”  Simon ignoredApollo’s confused stammering and just continued.  “Your brother.  What is going on with him?”

“WithNahyuta?  Why…do you ask?”

“Justanswer the question, Justice-dono!”

“H-He’sbeen basically quarantined in the palace with a nasty flu.  Rayfa told me that he hasn’t been allowed anycommunication devices in order to speed up his recovery…though I don’t understandhow that would help at all.”

“…Isee.  Thank you, Justice-dono.”

Withoutbothering to wait for Apollo to say goodbye, Simon hung up.

Hebought the first plane ticket to Khura’in, leaving the next morning.

-----

Itwas obnoxious trying to get the people at the Khura’inese palace to let himthrough, but luckily, he was able to get Rayfa’s assistance in wearing down theguards and advisers.  He had to promiseher a few favors, but to see Nahyuta, it was all worth it.  Between the crown princess and the king-regent’sterrifying consort demanding that Simon be able to see Nahyuta, no one stood achance.

Simonran to Nahyuta’s room and had to stop himself from bursting loudly through thedouble doors.  He didn’t want to overlystartle Nahyuta, and so he decided to take a deep breath before slowly turningthe handle.

Itwas quite cold in the room; the temperature seemed to drop by a few degreeswhen Simon stepped in.  Nahyuta wassprawled out on his bed; his hair did not have its signature shine, and was notin its usual braid.  The monk triedsitting up a little bit when he heard an intruder, about to demand who wasdisturbing him, but even trying to sit up hurtso many of his muscles.  And, of course,the movement must have troubled something in him because he was coughinguncontrollably for a moment without even having recognized who was standing inhis doorway.  That coughing made hisstomach churn and it took no time before he was off the side of his bed,vomiting into the bucket that had been placed there.

SeeingNahyuta like that spurred Simon to rush over to the monk’s side, sitting nextto him and holding his lavender hair back and away from his face.  It took a few long moments before Nahyutafelt alright enough to sit back again, and he fell right into his pillows as helooked up to see Simon watching over him.

Hesmiled.  Despite his illness making hisskin pale and his hair dull and his nose runny…it was beautiful.  Simon moved some wayward lilac strands fromNahyuta’s sweat-soaked face.  Even thoughit was cold in the room, Nahyuta was hot to the touch.  

“Mypanda…what are you doing here?”  Nahyuta’svoice was raspy and hoarse, so Simon didn’t even scold him for the use of thenickname.  Instead, he just kissedNahyuta’s hand, lacing their fingers together tightly.  

“I…hadn’theard from you.  I was…concerned.”

“Heh…youoverreact, Simon.  I’m-”

“You’renot fine, clearly, so don’t say it.”

Nahyutalaughed a bit, though those laughs transformed into coughs pretty quickly.  

“Ijust wish our reunion could have been under better circumstances.  I know I don’t exactly look great right now.”

“You’rebeautiful.”  The words left Simon’s mouthwithout him really thinking about it.  

“Youdon’t need to flatter me, Panda.  I can’timagine that I’m very appealing to see right now, what with the sweat and thevomiting and everything.”  More coughsinterrupted some of his words, and he thought for a moment that he was going tobe sick again.  Luckily, however, he wasable to keep it down.

“Imean it, Nahyuta.  Frankly, it isannoying.  How gorgeous you are, evenwhile being this ill,” Simon said.  Hethought for a second, wondering if he should continue.  “…Maybe it is just the love blinding me toany of your physical ailments.”

Nahyutablinked a few times…allowing Simon’s words to sink in.  Despite how moving any of his limbs wassomewhat painful due to how sore his body was, he lifted his hand to Simon’sface, cupping one of his cheeks.  “I loveyou too Simon.  Thank you for coming allthe way here just to see me.”

Simon’sface heated up a little bit.  “Yeah well…likeI said, I was worried.  I don’t trustyour advisers to treat you well enough, so I figured I would have to come overand do it myself.  Have they been givingyou the appropriate medicine?  Been washingyour sheets?  Making sure you get enoughwater and stay hydrated?”  

“I was quarantined to make sure no one elsecaught this, so my contact with others has been minimal,” Nahyuta spurted out,groaning as he lifted his hand to his head – this headache was unbearable.  “You probably ought to leave too.  Wouldn’t want my panda to get sick because ofme.”

“Silence.”  Although Simon said his catchphrase, it wasfar less malicious or harsh than how he normally would say it.  “I didn’t come all the way here just to sitoutside your door while you suffer alone.” He surveyed the room; he could definitely clean some and then maybe getsome clean blankets and clothes for Nahyuta…it wasn’t good for him to just stayin the same stuff for so long.  “I’ll goget you some water.”  And, while he wasat it, Simon would have a few choice words with Nahyuta’s main advisersexpressing his distaste for how poorly they had taken care of theirregent.  

Hestood, but before he went to leave, he leaned over and kissed Nahyuta’sforehead.  The monk smiled, and for amoment, didn’t feel as ill as he did before.          

[nerdyskeleton]

I had a dream that simon and nahyuta swapped clothes for a day and whenever someone questioned them about it they'd pretend they didn't know what they were talking about dgchgxgc Also someone asked athena if simon was her boyfriend and she laughed for like a solid ten minutes before going "F U C K no" honestly iconic

Bless you for this. You should know I was THIS close to starting my accounting homework, but this was way more important man. SO IMPORTANT.

I absolutely cannot stop laughing about Blackmadhi switching clothing that is so funny. And their perfect straight faces as they seriously question what everyone is talking about. Nahyuta would totally suggest it like, “Oh, Simon, do you know what would be hilarious?” on a random weekday and Simon doesn’t get it at first, but once he sees pretty angel Nahyuta in nothing but his dramatic black and white, Simon dies laughing. Simon probably rocks the pure white pretty well, and all the gold, too, until you get to his scary face, and it’s like wait there’s something off with this combination…..But yeah the prosecutors and the WAA are all so confused. When they’re back to normal everyone’s like “Wow what a funny joke that was!!!” but Simon and Nahyuta still feign innocence about it.

I vote that Simon is still chewing on the Taka feather though, dressed like Nahyuta, so everyone is just like “Okay THAT’S normal but……” Nahyuta tries to do the poofy ponytail, but his hair is too silky for it, and Simon’s literally can’t do anything but be the poofy ponytail, so no long ass braid for him RIP

Also like #iconic you are so right - Athena probably does the spit takes of all spit takes or something when someone asks about her and Simon like that, followed by uncontrollable laughter and the “FUCK no way.” I’d love for him to be there, too, and like not even be offended that she’s laughing so hard because he’s laughing harder. Or she would tell him later, and he literally can’t breathe, the notion is so funny to him.

Dude this was so great your dreams sound so funny and amazing!! Thanks for sending this!!

[crackmadhi]

Day 22 - QPR

Friday, 13 June 2036 – Age 37 “Uncle Simon?”, CJ asked and climbed on the couch next to his favourite uncle.

Simon crossed his legs and intently looked at the small boy who watched him with great interest and curiosity. What grand question could the five-year- old have for him how?

“Papa told me that you and Yuta have a different relationship than you and Papa. And you call your relationship with Yuta QPR and the one with Papa friendship. Why do you do that? Don’t you like them both?”

For a moment Simon looked at CJ utterly paralyzed. The blunt questions of this kid still got to him every time. How should one deal with a kid gifted with the charm of Klavier Gavin and the straightforwardness of Apollo Justice? And that even though he didn’t share his blood with neither Klavier nor Justice.

Yet Simon quickly knew to compose himself and grinned at the young boy. He was curious and still very easy to influence and Simon wanted him to have a good impression and understanding of queer relationships. Of course, the boy was witnessing one in his own home but seeing diverse takes was always a good thing.

So, Simon began: “Well, the whole thing is a bit complicated to explain, but to answer your questions; I do like them both but not in exactly the same way and because of that I and both of them like to call it differently.”

CJ watched him closely, then nodded and motioned him to explain further. He needed to know more because this was really interesting.

“Uhm, I really like your papa. He’s my best friend and I can trust him with anything. And he can trust me and knows that I care a lot for him. “You and your friend Kyle are a bit like that right?”

CJ nodded and cheerfully told him: “Yes! He helped me find the glitter for my drawing and I gave him a really glittery stone for his stone collection!”

“Exactly”, Simon said and ruffled his hair, “and this is what you would call a friendship too, right?”

“Yeah, but I never gave Kyle a kiss. Do you need to kiss to be best friends?”

Simon blushed a bit and damned Klavier for his causality about body contact for a second. Then he let out a huff and grinned a bit sheepishly.

“No, you do not to kiss to be best friends. And many people do think kissing your friends is not something you do. “I myself am not someone, who likes kissing people that much and your papa and Yuta are the only two I am comfortable to do this with. “And you are allowed to dislike kissing too, you know? And hugging too. Never feel pressured to have some sort of body contact with somebody. Okay?”

CJ nodded but suddenly frowned and asked: “Is it bad then to want to hug somebody?”

“No”, Simon said softly, “of course not. Just ask if they are comfortable when you are not sure if they like to be hugged and your doing good. And the answer needs to be a ‘yes’, okay?”

“Okay!”

Simon grinned and immediately was hit by the boy’s tiny embrace and chuckled at his clinginess. He would do great one day. Simon was sure of it.

“But why are you calling your relationship with Nahyuta differently then? You and Papa have a really close friendship, where Papa is allowed to kiss you sometimes and you and Yuta do the same. Why calling it QPR then?”

Simon sighed. He wasn’t annoyed but this was really hard to answer for him and he had his problems to formulate his next answer.

“It is something small but… For me a QPR is a bit more exclusive and dedicated than a friendship. It’s not the same for everybody who has a QPR. “I think I am a person, who easily fixates one thing or one person. There are people who like to have several people in their lives to love and have around, but the relationship I have with Yuta I only want to have with them. “The living together and going for a stroll or feeding birds or watching you kids, those are me and them things. Not that I couldn’t have that with Klavier. “I lived with him for some time and I went on a trip with him and fed Taka with him or go out with you and him, but this is more something temporary. Something that will happen again but it’s not permanently around. We can have breaks for several weeks or a month or two and it’s perfectly fine. “I think I need that because he is a really intense person, who doesn’t like to argue with me. Which isn’t too ideal in the long run. “Nahyuta though… They give me calmness. We do not need to talk to often and they can leave for dinner with our colleagues or I can go out for soba without any discussion. We do not to need to be around each other constantly but in the end of the day… “I go to bed and Nahyuta lies next to me and I don’t want it to be different. They are some sort of home to me and I am some sort of home for them. “We do not agree on everything, maybe we even disagree on more things than I and your papa, but we can bicker about it endlessly without disrespecting or hurting the other. It just feels very natural and easy to me and this is probably why I wanted it to have a different name than friendship. “Because ‘Queer Platonic Relationship’ sounds serious, still a bit casual and still like a pretty deep bond and that’s what I have with your thulo bûba.”

That answer managed to satisfy CJ’s curiosity and he now could change the subject and ask Simon if he could tell him the story of a slightly creepy bank robbery.

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