#procksecutor

    ❝ You're right about both points, ❞ ‹ the Detective replied simply, his own tone equally as relaxed and light-hearted despite the earlier warning offered. Though when he spoke next, it was as quiet as before to obscure the words in the wind so only Klavier could hear him in the moment. › ❝ The name's Shuuji. Detective. I'll introduce myself more in a minute. ❞

     ‹ The mirror would be adjusted slightly, and though Klavier were searching for a metaphorical answer he would soon find that it gave a bit more of a literal one. A short distance behind the two men was a figure with eyes trained forward in their direction, the gaze so sharp it could have legally passed as a weapon in its own rights. Both of their hands were balled into their pockets and their body seemed to tighten closer in, perhaps in response to Shuuji walking them both towards a more commercial sidewalk. ›

     ‹ After they made it across a street, Shuuji cast his gaze around their immediate surroundings until he stopped upon a cafe — a smokescreen he could use to their advantage, which he pointed out with a gloved hand. ›

    ❝ There's that cafe I wanted to show you, ❞ ‹ he then spoke at a normal volume, clearly part of their little act. › ❝ They have some of the best danishes in town, from what I remember. Also, it's my treat today, so pick whatever you want. ❞

     ‹ Klavier was the first to arrive to a barren driveway, devoid of any signs of the caller's promised van — and for a few minutes more it would perhaps begin to feel like a terrible dream, given no updates had been forthcoming since. Eventually however, a distant crackle of pavement rubble beneath heavy-duty tires could be heard nearing the prosecutor's location, its source easily seen to be a heavy-duty police transport van. So the call wasn't a prank, and this wasn't a dream... ›

     ‹ The vehicle would pull to a stop at the entrance to Klavier's driveway, a door on the passenger's side opening to reveal a tall, muscular man dressed head to toe in protective tactical gear — a man concerned for his safety around the criminal he hauled, and with a dark expression that read as equal parts concern and disgust. He moved towards the van's rear door before he paused just beside it, head now turned to Klavier; all the while, another heavily-geared officer joined him at his side, mirroring the tense, uncertain energy his partner radiated. ›

    ❝ He's all yours, ❞ ‹ was all the leader of the duo would say before he pulled back the sliding door. The dark interior made it difficult to see, but such would not be a problem for long with its occupant opting to make a swift but calm exit at the nearly-forceful behest of the escorting officers. ›

     ‹ Once the officers stepped aside, it could no longer be denied; there, in the flesh, stood Kristoph Gavin with hands cuffed behind his back yet, his suit jacket slung over his shoulder to rest. It was... picture-perfect; Kristoph's face held nary a wrinkle to it, his half-lidded and gentle eyes as sweet as they always had been, his smile having sat steadily on his face the moment it became visible. It were as if time had failed to leave a dent in him, his time in jail simply shrugged off his shoulders with ease. ›

    ❝ My dearest brother... Klavier... ❞ ‹ uttered Kristoph with such a kind tone — it was all too easy to forget his horrific and chilling outburst so long ago with how he spoke now. › ❝ To welcome me so easily... Truly, I am blessed. ❞

It's a shameful thought to be having, he knows. But even pushing that aside, it serves him no purpose, and as such it would be best banished from his mind entirely - yet it always seems to sneak back, like an insect returning to its nest.

He's done more far more harm than good in his life at this point, and as long as he continues on like this, as a prosecutor serving under Ga'ran, many more will continue to suffer because of him. But what choice does he have? In his heart, Nahyuta knows that he is selfish - but he does not want for Rayfa to suffer the way he has suffered, as the son of a criminal; a pariah of society.

So he resigns himself to his fate, and reminds himself to his usual mantras. Even if he were to rebel, he'd never have the power to stop Ga'ran's regime, so the innocent will continue to suffer either way - now with Rayfa paying the price among them. It's an obvious excuse, but it's enough to give him the motivation he needs to carry on in those moments when he thinks he can't go any further.

Yet sometimes, he thinks it would be so much easier to believe the Queen's lies. To accept her propaganda as the truth - and to finally feel as if he's fighting for a righteous cause again. Those are the thoughts that make him feel truly sick, when he has them. But no matter how much he craves to be living and not just surviving... hoping and wishing is sure to only bring more pain - so as always, there's only one thing left to do.

Let it go, and move on.

...His mind turns towards the prosecutor he's about to meet - one Klavier Gavin. Seeing him here now, Nahyuta can't help but feel his lip twist in distaste, though he doesn't know the reason. But whatever his personal feelings are, Klavier's capabilities as a prosecutor cannot be dismissed so easily.

"You must be Klavier Gavin." And so he greets him with a soft tone, a contrast to the sharpness in his eyes. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting for too long."

“ ugh, hands off, klavier. ” edgeworth pushes klavier's hand away from his ear. the topic of a piercing surprises him though. he never thought of such. though, manfred had one, and a part of edgeworth wanted to wear one too when he was still a rookie. “ ... ” he vaguely touched his earlobe, a slight rub between his thumb and index finger before dropping his hand to the side, huffing.

     ‹ To say something was the "least expected" thing one would have imagined encountering would imply they at least thought it was a possibility; what he had here was something he'd never expected to have asked of him. When he picked up his phone, there was a flurry of words that, if he heard them right, meant today was about to get real interesting. ›

    ❝ Ah, hold on. I think I understand, but start again from the top? ❞

" oi . " whatever he did to ruin his intimidating reputation , simon has got to undo it . should he just resort directly to murder ? mr . edgeworth would be undoubtedly displeased , but it would keep random coworkers from walking into his bloody office to use HIS bloody trash can . " get out . "

he's kicking a foot over the mouth of his trash can , just to be petty .