-2.33: Meeting the Heir to the Turnabout-
Theme: Ace of Spades

It wasn’t his first visit to the pristine practice of Gavin Law Offices; he remembered this fact very clearly. When he had entered this office for the first time seven years ago, he remembered being spooked by the mere doors that led into the royal practice—ebony wood with polished (probably not) gold doorknobs coupled with a metal plate that sat upon the doorframe with its neat lettering of “Gavin Law Offices”. Who could forget such a paralyzing atmosphere instilled into every client that walked through those doors? He certainly wasn’t one to forget such a sensation.

But now, here he was for his umpteenth visit. Though he was used to all the glamour and flash of this particular office, he couldn’t help but get a strange feeling that he was indeed out of place. He almost felt the need to dress up in a suit just to visit Kristoph. Almost.

Without knocking like most visitors, Phoenix turned the knob without a care, already marking his existence into the very expensive rug with his dusty sandals. “Hey, Kristoph,” he greeted a tad wearily. “I need to talk to you…”

Phoenix stopped momentarily in opening the door as wide as he usually did. Locked within the labyrinth of unfamiliar law texts stood a young man dressed in a bright red that was hard to ignore. And… great, there was no Kristoph in sight.

“Um…” the young man began, setting the books he was either cleaning or shelving onto the desk. “Welcome to Gavin Law Offices,” he greeted nervously with a certain rasp in his voice. Odd…

Phoenix ignored the young boy, much too green to even bother paying heed. Instead, he glanced around the office, letting himself into deeper into the snare of needless space.

“Um… if you are looking for Mr. Gavin, he just stepped out. You can wait for him if you want,” the young man offered, pointing at the leather chairs set in front of the glass desk. “I can prepare some tea for you while you’re waiting.”

Phoenix gave the young man one glance before looking away, almost as if the boy wasn’t interesting enough to deserve his attention. “When is Kristoph supposed to come back? I can’t stay too long, you know.”

“Um… I don’t know…” the young man answered apologetically.

“Then I guess I’ll leave.”

“Are you sure? I’m certain that Mr. Gavin will return in a few minutes,” the young man insisted.

“I’m not really the type of person to wait.” Phoenix took one last look around the office before returning the young man’s gaze. That was when he noticed the odd hair. Everything else was gelled back almost mechanically, except for the two antennae that sprouted right in the air. They looked like gravity itself was a ridiculous theory.

Phoenix couldn’t help but hold in a chuckle. Yet as his stare intensified, he noticed the young man bring his left hand up to the back of his head, rubbing it with a sense of embarrassment. That was when he caught sight of it.

A bracelet…? His mind raced back to the picture he held tightly in his wallet—the photo of the woman who smiled so beautifully with her hands propped up right in front of her face, two identical bracelets hanging off her wrists. The portrait of Thalassa, Trucy’s “missing” mother.

“Um, sir?” The young man’s face scrunched into something indecipherable. It looked to Phoenix as if the young man was questioning if Phoenix was some poor man who had come to the office to beg for scraps or loose change.

But Phoenix had long accepted those odd looks. He didn’t mind them one bit, of course. Appearance rarely mattered when comfort was involved. “Are you Kristoph’s new errand boy?” Phoenix joked, a teasing smile on his face.

“E-Errand boy?!” the young man repeated, completely caught off-guard by Phoenix’s response. His unusually loud voice forced Phoenix to wince a tiny smidge.

“O-Of course not! I was picked out of fifty applicants for this job!” he defended a bit too strongly. “I-I’m studying under Mr. Gavin, so I can hardly say that I’m a mere errand boy!”

“Oh? Well… if you say so.” With a nod, Phoenix proceeded to leave the office. Yet as he felt the cool metal of the doorknob, he turned around, and said, “Oh yeah, don’t tell Kristoph I was here.” And he left like the wind, closing the door softly behind him.

Reaching down to pull up another bottle of grape juice, Phoenix once again offered a sip to Kristoph who always refused politely.

“Every time I come here, you offer me that drink, Wright. I would think you would’ve gotten the message already,” Kristoph remarked, pushing up his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Let’s just say old habits die hard, Kristoph,” Phoenix duly replied, pulling the cork out of the neck and taking a quick swig of the stuff. The sour-sweet taste tantalized on his tongue, erasing all evidence of the food he had consumed beforehand.

“Apparently so,” the other man said with an eerily clean smile. “I suppose that was what brought us together: our innate stubbornness.”

Phoenix recapped the bottle before leaning back on the piano seat. “Maybe.” Phoenix glanced around the Russian restaurant, letting his eyes absorb the bits and pieces of fake snow décor. “Oh, that reminds me: I went to your office this afternoon.”

“Oh?” Kristoph seemed genuinely surprised and intrigued. “What for, may I ask?”

Phoenix smiled. “Now, Kristoph, seeing as you are here, I see no point in me telling you the reason. In fact, I think I have already forgotten the reason. All I know was when I went there, you weren’t there.” Phoenix paused, returning his gaze back to his friend. “Someone else was there though.”

“You sound offended,” Kristoph replied, amused.

“Maybe… a bit. You never told me you had a new errand boy.”

“I never believed he would gain much interest from you, Wright.”

“Well, let’s just say I want to take a bit of a break from our usual talks of politics and law. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

At this comment, Kristoph let a chuckle echo within the nearly empty restaurant. “I think it’s more the grape juice than the topic of conversation between us, my dear friend.”

“Maybe. But I need my grape juice more.”

“All right,” Kristoph answered, suppressing his need to let out another laugh. “What would you like to know about him?”

“Oh, the usual,” Phoenix answered coolly, “You know—name, age, experience, how his hair defies gravity…”

Kristoph leaned against his chair, an amused grin on his face. “That hair isn’t natural, I’ll have you know. Just like your old hair.” Kristoph let out a light-hearted sigh, shaking his head almost from embarrassment. “Too much gel…”

“Be happy I don’t do that anymore, Kristoph,” Phoenix humoured. “Gel is expensive nowadays,” he mumbled.

Kristoph let out a laugh. “Yes, considering your salary.”

“Oh, please don’t change the conversation to the amount of money we each make. I think I’ll cry,” Phoenix joked.

“All right, just to spare your pride from humiliation, I suppose.” Grabbing his wine glass by the stem, Kristoph swirled the red wine slowly, allowing the liquid slosh beautifully against the sides and paint it crimson. With a slow, relaxing sip of the liquid, Kristoph continued: “His name is Apollo Justice. Odd name, no? Reminds me a lot of your name, Phoenix Wright.”

Phoenix made no remark. He merely swirled the liquid inside the grape juice bottle before taking another swig.

“Age is… well… twenty-two, if I recall correctly. Experience, at the moment, is currently none.”

“Hmm… so you haven’t allowed him to take up any clients. Most likely because of your prestige, am I right?” Phoenix teased.

“Well, when people are looking for the best and come to me, who am I to refuse them my representation?” Kristoph remarked a bit too proudly. “But don’t misunderstand, Wright, I will let him take a case… soon.”

“So if a client requests him…?”

“Then I will abide with their request. An attorney must cede to his client’s wishes, after all. I’m praying you have not forgotten that…?”

“Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten something that basic. Although I’m starting to forget where exactly the courthouse is,” Phoenix joked.

“Please, Wright, your knowledge concerning our legal system truly leaves me to weep,” Kristoph replied, shaking his head almost disappointedly.

“What about what’s-his-name’s family?” Phoenix asked, biting back the serious tone in his voice. If the answer he gained was what he hoped, then… everything he had worked for would soon come to fruition.

“Oh, Justice’s? And why would you assume that I know something like that?”

“Come on, Kristoph. We’ve known each other for nearly seven years. I know you. Whenever you have a client, you look into their background before taking on their case. It’s elementary.”

Apparently, this answer seemed to strike true with Kristoph, and he answered as succinctly as possible: “None.”

“None?” Phoenix could already feel the weight on his heart from these nearly seven years of research slowly recede. Then… that boy must be Thalassa’s son… and Trucy’s older brother…

“Well, from what the records show me,” Kristoph replied with a very faux smile. “His parents supposedly died, but I’m guessing they just couldn’t handle parenthood, and left him in the care of a local orphanage. It’s one of those sappy, awe-inspiring stories where the young protagonist, with nothing in the beginning, achieves everything in the end.”

“No adopted parents or even relatives?”

“I just answered you, Wright. He has no living family. Apparently, no one wished to adopt him, so he stayed at the orphanage until eighteen, and the rest writes itself.” Kristoph drank the rest of his wine before setting the clean glass bathed in red on the table. “May I ask the sudden fascination with Justice though?”

Phoenix concealed his inner excitement behind a poker face of slight amusement. “Oh, you know, it’s just gossip. Haven’t had those much around lately. I guess you could say I love gossip,” he lied stealthily. It just means that you know a lot less than I gave you credit for, Kristoph, Phoenix thought.

“Then please leave me out of your hobbies, Wright.” Kristoph sighed. “Just because you like gossip doesn’t mean I enjoy it.”

“Oh, sorry, Kristoph.”

“Well, as much I loved this get-together, I should get back to the office. Can’t leave Justice all by himself for that long, you know,” Kristoph said, letting a soft smile grace his lips. “I guess I’ll see you later, Wright.”

“Yeah, and I guess I’ll return to playing the keys tonight unless I get another customer.”

“Please, Wright, when you don’t play the piano, this restaurant seems almost… serene.” That same smile plagued Kristoph’s unusually youthful face. “Good night, Wright.”

“Take care.” Phoenix turned back to the ivory keys that lay in front of him, hesitating slightly, and groaning inwardly for a customer to come and take him away from the tortures of playing.

Little did he know a customer was going to come and take him away from the tortures of playing, but most of all, the tortures of the past seven years that had been plaguing him so.

The customer known as Shadi Smith.

“I never expected our next meeting to be here of all places, Wright.” Kristoph shook his head, a sigh leaving his lips like a whisper.

“Believe me, Kristoph. This was the last place I wanted to see you again so soon,” Phoenix remarked, a bit detached. “Actually, this was the last place I ever want to be. But considering you’re here to see me, can I assume that you will be my representation?”

“Of course.” There was that eerie smile again on his face. “What are friends for?”

“I just hope I get the friend discount for your services, Kristoph,” Phoenix said through the transparent glass that separated the two of them. “Even though I’m your friend, I do have to say that the normal price seems a bit too much.”

“No worries. Since you are a dear friend, I will give you a very good price on your defence, Wright. Something that will be deemed fair on your part as well,” Kristoph replied.

“That’s good to hear, although it sounds like you’re giving me charity, Kristoph.” Phoenix turned away, hiding a smirk in the light. “Sorry if it’s a bit sudden. My trial is only tomorrow. I feel like I’m putting a bit of unneeded pressure onto you and your practice.”

“Being noble now, Wright? If you don’t mind me saying this, but it isn’t your colour.” Kristoph pushed his glasses up once again, hiding a smirk behind his hand.

“Ahh, I know, but I’m trying. You have to give me points on that, Kristoph.”

“No need to. I already know you’re innocent, and I’ll make sure you get acquitted tomorrow. This I promise you,” Kristoph vowed. “All the evidence I have collected up to now points in that direction. You do not have to worry, Wright.”

“Ah, then I can rest at ease, I suppose.” Phoenix returned Kristoph’s gaze, and with an innocent smile, he added, “But if this case is so easily in the bag, then how about we make it a bit more interesting.”

“Meaning?”

“Remember what’s-his-name we were talking about yesterday night? I think I want him to represent me,” Phoenix answered without any hint of amusement in his tone of voice.

“You want Justice?” Kristoph didn’t bother suppressing his laugh. “Where has this come from, Wright?”

“I’m a professional poker player, Kristoph. I live for risks. That’s my simplest explanation,” Phoenix answered. “Besides, since you mentor him, I just have to say that I put as much faith in him as I do you. He should be as good as you.” Phoenix turned away. “And anyway, you implied this case will be easy. Then I see no problem with my request.”

“Yes, but I’m starting to see that there might be something wrong with your head,” Kristoph remarked a bit too boldly. “I have never met a client who would put his fate all in the hands of some greenhorn, especially for a severe crime such as murder.”

“Like I said, Kristoph, I live for risks. Besides, you’ll be there to guide him, so I see no reason to worry. I trust you to step in when you need to.”

Kristoph smiled. “All right. Since you are my client, I will cede to your wishes. I just hope that you know what you are doing, Wright.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing Kristoph.” And Phoenix smiled.

“Daddy! Daddy, are they treating you all right in there?” Trucy asked worriedly as she pressed her hand against the glass. “If they aren’t, I’ll be sure to teach them a lesson!” She turned to the guard standing in the corner and glared at him with all her might.

Phoenix laughed. “I’m fine, Trucy. No need to worry. I’ve been in a situation like this before, so it does bring back a few memories.”

“Bad memories?” Trucy asked hesitantly, her hands pressed closely to her chest.

“Mm, good and bad, I suppose,” Phoenix answered, pondering. “But I feel a lot better now that you’ve come to visit me, although this is definitely not a place I would want to show you, much less behind this piece of glass.”

“Daddy, you’re… going to be okay, right? Like, in the trial tomorrow? You won’t get convicted, will you?” Trucy paused, unable to force a smile like she usually would in times like these. “Daddy, you won’t… leave… me like my other daddy, right?”

Phoenix gave her a reassuring smile in spite of the fact that all he wanted to do was break the glass in front of them, and hold her tight until she felt better. “I won’t, Trucy. I promised you when you were eight that I would never leave you.”

Trucy nodded slowly before grinning. “Yeah, you did, and you never break your promises, Daddy! Besides, Daddy, if you get convicted, I’ll just help you like I did with my other daddy! I’ll just have to study up on escape-magic when I get home!”

Phoenix laughed. “Actually, I had something else in mind that I wanted you to do.”

Trucy said nothing, but nodded.

“This is very important to Daddy, okay? With it, Daddy will most likely get acquitted.”

“Like a trump card?” Trucy asked, her index finger tapping her chin thoughtfully.

“You can think of it like that, Trucy.” A frown setting in place on his face, Phoenix stared her hard in the eyes, nearly whispering to her his plans: “When you get home, in one of the red deck of cards we have, take out the ace of spades.”

Trucy nodded, her mind already memorizing every word of Phoenix’s instructions.

“You must place one drop of blood on it and keep it on with you, understand? Then, at the trial tomorrow, you must find an opportunity alone with my lawyer.”

“Do you mean that guy with glasses and blond hair?” Trucy verified. “What was his name again? Chrissy-something?”

Phoenix smiled. “No, my lawyer is the young man in red with antennae-like hair,” he told her. “He has an exceptionally loud voice and a thick, gold bracelet around his left wrist. Just look for that.”

“Antennae-like hair…?” Trucy didn’t say anything, but Phoenix could tell she was scratching her head for the meaning of his words.

“Give him that card tomorrow when he is alone, okay, Trucy?”

“Okay Daddy, if it helps you get out of here, I’ll do it right away once I get home!” she replied, obviously pumped for the trial tomorrow.

“Oh, and one more thing, Trucy.”

“Yes, Daddy?”

“Tell him something for me: ‘The last hand is about to be played. You’ll need a trump card to make it. The card you have chosen is magical. Use it wisely, and the game is yours.’ Got it, Trucy?”

“Got it! But… I don’t really see the point, Daddy…” she responded anxiously. “I mean, how will this get you acquitted?”

Phoenix cracked a grin, his hand resting softly on top of his hat. “Hey, even though I don’t wield a wand or wear a top hat doesn’t mean I can’t do a little magic myself.”

“So tomorrow’s trial will be magical?” She grinned.

“Daddy’s type of magic, though, where the truth will surely come out about everything,” Phoenix answered.

“Okay, but I’m still going to go home and study up on escape-magic. You always need a backup plan, right?” She beamed.

“You do that, Trucy.”

“I’ll be cheering you on tomorrow in court, Daddy!”

“Thanks Trucy. Knowing you’ll be there makes me feel better.”

Standing up to leave, Trucy pressed her hand against the glass where Phoenix returned the same affection. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Daddy, so hang in there!”

Phoenix nodded. “See you tomorrow.” And the two slowly tore their hands away from the glass where Trucy left through the door into freedom, her face holding back tears; and where Phoenix left through the door into imprisonment with a pained smile, his hand tightly gripping the locket around his neck.

Tomorrow would be the end and the beginning of it all if everything went according to plan. The truth would finally come to surface. All it needed was the help of the ace of spades: Apollo Justice.

-2.66: Anxieties of the Turnabout Trump-
Theme: Photo

Out of fifty applicants only one could be chosen. Only one could be taken under the Kristoph Gavin’s wing. With three days of intense interviews and sixty days of endless waiting for the call of either “Congratulations!” or “I regret to inform you…”, Apollo was nearly hyperventilating when news began to spread. Within a month, all of his friends had begun to receive the calls of, “I regret to inform you…” from Kristoph Gavin’s secretary. Tears were shed and angry spats exchanged, but most of all, desertions began to spread like disease. Those who couldn’t get a job underneath a senior defence attorney were forced to find a new career goal or continue on with their studying; those who could, left school and their friends behind for a better, grander life. And then there were the people who had yet to receive their “I regret to inform you…” call. The five who had yet to receive any call waited by their phones 24-7, either drinking or eating their anxieties away. Apollo Justice, on the other hand, had taken up to hyperventilating. He wasn’t good with too much alcohol, and he had always been conscientious on what and how much he consumed daily.

Yet one day, when he returned home from comforting one of his friends who had just gotten the call of “I regret to inform you…” Apollo checked the answering machine by his bed in his small dorm room:

“Hello, Mr. Justice. This is Miss Abbot, Mr. Gavin’s secretary.”

Apollo’s heart stopped momentarily where he began to hyperventilate once more. Sitting down on his bed, he took out a paper bag from his bedside, and began to breathe through it as the secretary rambled on about something or other that made no sense to Apollo. Was this what everyone else had to go through?

Finally: “…from fifty applicants, I am pleased to inform you, Mr. Justice, that you have been chosen for the internship at Gavin Law Offices. Congratulations. Mr. Gavin will be expecting you Monday morning at eight o’clock sharp. Be prepared, and once again, congratulations.” Click.

Out of fifty applicants, Apollo had been chosen. That night, he recycled away all the paper bags in his dormitory.

Under Gavin’s wing, Apollo’s sense of direction sharpened. Law began to piece itself together while the sense of justice and truth rang clear in his ears. And it all began with Kristoph Gavin. In court, he was like a knight who protected the weak and innocent. He defended truthfully and succinctly. He stood confidently before the prosecution and judge, unfaltering in his stance and clear in his arguments.

“Listen here, Justice, in court, all that matters is the truth. The evidence will point in that direction. It is our job to guide it.”

Out of court, he was organized and efficient. He did everything he could to save his defendants from a guilty verdict. And all for the truth.

“Justice, remember that evidence is everything. Without decisive evidence, our whole case will crumble. It is our jobs to make it decisive and to make it as clear as possible. We do not spin tales of fiction, understand?”

But… they were all lies.

“Our client has asked for you specifically, Justice. I’m sure you’ve heard of him? Phoenix Wright? He’s a very dear friend of mine, Justice. I believe in your abilities that you will get him the acquittal he needs, after all, he is indeed innocent of this murder. No, I don’t just believe it; I know it.”

Kristoph never believed in him. He was the one spinning tales of fiction.

“You’re just like him, Justice. Just like that pitiful excuse of a defence attorney, Phoenix Wright. …He deserved it. Phoenix Wright deserved what was coming to him!”

Why did it hurt so much to let it go then?

It was two o’clock in the afternoon, Phoenix noted as he stepped into his home. Trucy wouldn’t be home until three-thirty to four, so he had a few hours to himself before he had to return back to his job at the Borscht Bowl Club. The afternoons were always slow, so he usually took it easy by wandering around.

Maybe he should’ve just gone straight to the agency? That way, he could tidy it up a bit before she got back. But cleaning never seemed like the better option than lazing around and doing nothing.

“Oh, right…” he muttered to himself as he passed through the foyer. Apollo’s supposed to be here… Opening the door to the rest of the small apartment which was conjoined to the Wright’s Anything Agency in the far corner, he saw nothing suspicious. Everything looked exactly the way it did this morning when he and Trucy had left the house at the same time.

Treading lightly, Phoenix proceeded to the closed door guest room where he was met with a casually dressed Apollo who had already unpacked all of his things, which wasn’t much. He was already folding the boxes he brought with him into a more convenient size.

“All unpacked?” Phoenix asked, leaning against the doorframe a bit too comfortably. Peering around at the slightly smaller room than Trucy’s, he noticed the sparseness of it all. Sure, there were more bookcases in the room than in the whole apartment, each one filled to the brim with books and magazines, but other than that, it was somewhat… lacking. Maybe the reason was because he was comparing it to Trucy’s room, which was once decorated with just Gramarye stuff, was now filled with Gavinners’ paraphernalia.

“Um, I guess,” Apollo answered with a certain rasp in his voice. “I mean, that’s all I have.”

“Hmm…” Phoenix said nothing else. Instead, he entered the room without permission, gaining an irked expression from Apollo. His eyes scaled the bare walls, taking a short glance over at the open window before turning his attention to the pictures displayed on the bookshelf. Again, without permission, he looked them over with a slight tinge of interest.

“Huh…”

“What?” Apollo replied, before quickly correcting himself with, “I mean, what seems to be the matter, Mr. Wright?”

Phoenix inwardly smiled at Apollo’s inane manners. “You have an empty picture frame. Now that’s a bit odd.” Phoenix picked up the simple frame, examining it quickly before passing it to Apollo.

“The picture must’ve fallen out or something. No big deal.” Apollo shrugged his shoulders before opening his dresser and dumping the frame into one of the drawers. “It’s nothing important…”

Phoenix’s suspicions piqued but he said nothing. Instead, he continued on with his inspection, quickly dismissing anything that looked normal for the time being. Suddenly, he noticed something at the bottom of Apollo’s dresser. It was jammed right at the foot of the dresser, almost intentional. No, it was intentional.

Phoenix reached for it.

“No!” Apollo pushed Phoenix back abruptly before prying whatever the slip of paper was from underneath the dresser and ripping it into pieces with the best of his abilities. Phoenix watched, stunned, at the sight as Apollo picked up the stray pieces and shoved them into his pocket, his breathing heavy and tired.

Phoenix knelt down and picked the largest of the ripped fragments, spying with his other eye at the alarmed look in Apollo’s face. It was enough to tell Phoenix everything.

“A picture of you and Kristoph Gavin…” There was no judgment or spite in his words as he showed Apollo the ripped photo of the two of them standing side-by-side outside his office, commemorating the day that Kristoph had finally taken a young law student under his wing.

“Yes…” Standing up, Apollo dumped the other pieces into the waste bin. Phoenix watched his movements carefully, noting everything that seemed to be wrong with the young man before him.

“Apollo, are you-”

“Fine! I’m fine!” he cut in sharply. “I don’t want to talk about it, Mr. Wright. I’m done with everything concerning Mr. Gavin.”

“Apollo…” Phoenix took another look at the photo before sighing.

“I believed in him and his words…” Apollo murmured underneath his breath. His hands tightened into fists as he could feel his breathing deepened. “Everything. Everything Mr. Gavin told me about law, showed me about law—everything he passed down to me… I ate it all up. I thought he was the perfect representation of law, but it was all a lie. Everything was a lie.” Apollo took a deep breath, his hand close to his lips as if suppressing some sort of overwhelming emotion welling within.

“Yet you feel like you’ve failed him in some way, am I wrong?” Phoenix replied, a comforting smile on his face.

Apollo squeezed shut his eyes, no longer able to return Phoenix’s gaze. “I don’t understand,” he struggled to say in a strong voice, but it came out weak and low. “All these years I’ve worked under him, I’ve worked for the truth. I’ve stood in court for the sole reason of finding the truth just like he’d taught me to, to defend those who could not defend themselves, but I…”

“It’s not your fault, Apollo,” Phoenix reassured, resting his hand on top of the younger man’s head. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“But I…” Apollo disagreed in a soft whisper, his fist shaking at his side.

Phoenix sighed, slowly pulling Apollo into a warm embrace, his chin resting lightly on top of the young attorney’s head. “You didn’t fail Gavin, Apollo. You saved him from the darkness within him.” He tightened his embrace around the younger boy’s shoulders. “I’m proud of you, Apollo. Of everything you’ve done for me and Trucy and for everyone else you’ve helped. I’m really proud of you.”

His face lying buried in Phoenix’s shoulder, Apollo accepted the warm embrace, a soft smile upon his face.

-

“Welcome to the Wright Talent Agency, where you’ve ‘always come to the Wright place!’”

XXX

2.33: Meeting the Heir to the Turnabout- Fin
2.66: Anxieties of the Turnabout Trump- Fin

XXX

A/N: To be honest, the actual chapter that was supposed to be updated was going to be a mother-daughter story about Iris and Trucy, but since I couldn't chug it out (for nearly a year), I kinda left it on my PC. So today, I was looking for another story in the PC's harddrive, and I found this. It was titled "Lost Chapters of The Wright Family" and I was pretty surprised that I had something like this. I cannot remember writing this nor can I remember what provoked me to leave it in my PC. But seeing as I hadn't updated for a while, I thought it would be nice to have this since you people finally get a glimpse of some fatherly-son action between Phoenix and Apollo. But the true story about those two was supposed to mark the tenth chapter, so yeah...

Anyway, hope you enjoyed the strange chapter. Dunno when the next instalment will be. Sorry about that.

P.S. The events in this chapter are supposed to happen sometime around the second chapter of this "story" hence the "2.33" and "2.66".