October 7 – Day 233

Time: 5:00 PM

Location: The local bookstore

Ema knew the day would come eventually. The day when it would finally be done. The day when she would have to make another painful journey and again start anew.

The day her journal ran out of pages.

As she strode briskly to the local bookstore, after finishing her long and boring work-day, she carried the little beaten diary nervously in her hands. She felt uneasy without new pages. What if something really important happened and she wanted to write about it now because she would forget about it later?

Science, she told herself. She needed a new journal in the name of science.

Klavier had brutally embarrassed her earlier for her journal habit, when she had taken the book out and discovered that she had finished her last page. Ema had promptly delivered a snackoo to his head. She supposed that some glimmerous things would never change.

Ema still remembered that night three months ago when Klavier had spent the evening after his concert at her place. Sleeping on her futon. Next to her.

Actually, she remembered the next morning better, when she had unceremoniously kicked glimmer-boy onto the floor.

He had deserved it.

Still, the thought brought a smile to her face. Ema could almost imagine a day sometime not too far in the future when she wouldn’t kick him out into her apartment hallway the next morning and shower his clothing on top of him.

Ema quickly shook the thought away, realizing that she had more important things to attend to. When she finally stood in front of the rows of possible journals, her confidence wavered just a bit. What if her new diary wasn’t as good as her old diary?

Ema mentally slapped herself. Why was she thinking such a ridiculous thing about a diary? It wasn’t like she had never purchased a new one before.

Because this diary held memories. She swallowed, clutching the little book tighter. They were her memories of the first time she had shared a kiss, dated a guy seriously, and shared a home…

Even if Kristoph was a psycho and their relationship only lasted for two months, it was two months that Ema knew she would never forget, regardless of what happened to her journal.

She stood in front of the aisle, perusing the possible diaries, unable to decide. A little frustrated with her own indecision, she flipped through the pretty pages of her last diary, trying to examine scientifically what she was looking for.

Plain white pages, bold (but not too bold) colored lines, recycled paper (optional), firm binding (not that cheap glue stuff), and…

…white powder?

Ema paused, taking a moment to look at her hands. She rubbed her fingers together, testing the texture of the powder, her nerves rising just a bit as she did so. There was no mistaking it. It was definitely fingerprinting powder.

Slightly perturbed, she rubbed the powder off her fingers and onto her white jacket. Maybe she had just accidentally… put her fingers… in some fingerprinting powder? Somewhere?

No. It didn’t make any sense! There was only one place that powder could have come from.

Hesitantly, she opened the book again, leafing through the pages. As she did, thoughts raced through her head. If the powder came from her book, that could only mean one thing: someone had gone through her diary. Not only that, but this person would have had to have both access to her journal and fingerprinting powder handy. Moreover, not many people would have a reason to fingerprint her diary… only someone looking for something would do such a thing.

Scientifically, there was only one person who fit the description: Klavier.

She lifted her hands from the pages once more, turning the tips of her fingers up into the fluorescent lighting of the store. On the tips of her fingers was a fine layer of white powder.

Klavier had fingerprinted her diary.

But… why?!! “Uurgh!!! And I was just starting to trust you too!!!” She exclaimed loudly with aggravation, earning her a few reproachful glares from the surrounding patrons.

“Ok, relax Ema,” she murmured to herself as she grabbed the nearest diary and headed for the check-out line. “…there has to be a reason he’d do that.”

As she stood in line, paid, and walked out of the store, she could only think of the obvious reason. He had to be looking for someone’s prints.

But, she reasoned, he probably wasn’t looking for her fingerprints. No, he should know by now that she used that diary all the time. He had to suspect that someone else was reading her diary. But who?

The realization and question both hit her at the same time, and she froze in place. Someone had been reading her diary? Someone besides herself and Klavier? But who… who would…

Unable to concentrate on anything else, she caught the most timely bus back to the police department, determined to analyze the prints in her book better.

Four hours later, she had discovered that whoever had been reading her book was quite careful. All she could determine from most of the pages was that someone wearing gloves had leafed through her book.

Ema felt desolate, but she wasn’t about to give up. Finally, on a page marked “Day 63” she found a print that wasn’t hers or a glove. One index finger and half a thumb print. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to find a match.

Both excitement and fear welled within her, pulling a panicked charge of feeling through her veins from her stomach to her fingertips. As she ran the print through the database Ema wondered who she would find, but before she could think much about that, the processor beeped, indicating that it had found a match.

Kristoph Gavin.

Ema stared at the computer screen blankly, unable to move for what must have been a few minutes. “Kristoph? Kristoph?!!”

“Ja, it seems mein bruder was a little sloppy that day.”

Ema spun around, at first shocked to see Klavier standing there, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. He looked as if he must have been there for quite some time, watching her work. She wondered, briefly, if she had done anything dumb recently. Then her eyes narrowed, and she pointed accusingly at him, “Klavier you read my diary!!”

Klavier didn’t move from where he stood. His somber but quiet expression did not change as he agreed, “ja, I did.”

Remembering all of those embarrassing things she had written about both Klavier and his brother in her journal, she felt her cheeks grow warm with mortification and fury. “I can’t believe you would do something like that…”

She walked over to where he stood, glaring daggers at him. Ema leaned closer, not wanting to miss any expression, any sign of remorse or glee from him. From this close angle, she could see that dark patches were growing underneath his eyes, and his hair was even more disheveled than usual. Something must not be right with him either, but she was more concerned with her diary right now than whatever it was that must be bothering him. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet and menacing, “Why, Klavier? Why did you read it?”

Klavier’s expression, again, did not change. Without faltering he responded quietly, “because it was the only way to save you, Ema.”

This caught her offguard. “Save me?”

Finally, his expression did change. His features looked pained, as if what he was about to say had troubled him for a very long time. “I suspected that Kristoph was reading your diary months ago. There was no way he should have known about some of the things in court that he did, nor understood the intricate details of them.”

He paused for a moment, swallowing and looking away uncomfortably. “People were already talking, before he even went to jail, about how you must be slipping him information…”

“I would never—” she began.

“I know,” his eyes fixed on her again. “Which is why I knew he had to be reading your diary. Where else could he find such detailed explanations of every court case? Not to mention, he probably wanted to keep tabs on you.”

She had known that Kristoph was too good to be true. Of course, it all made sense now. Why else would he keep her around, of all people? Make dinner for her… invite her to move in…

It was all a cleverly calculated ploy.

“His fingerprints on your diary were enough evidence to get you off the hook without the situation escalating to a trial,” Klavier’s continued explanation pulled her from her miserable thoughts.

Ema laughed weakly, running her fingers over the ridged cover of her diary, cringing at the painful memories it brought back. “So you read it too, huh? Then you must know what a fool I am.”

“Nein,” Klavier responded, startling her momentarily out of her funk. “Your writings are far from foolish.”

“This horrible thing…” Ema shut her eyes, willing hot tears away as unwanted memories flooded back to her. “Kristoph manipulated me with this… he read everything… all of my cases… all of my research…”

She took a deep shaky breath. “I should just burn it and be done with it.”

“Don’t,” Klavier said quickly, covering her hand and part of the book with his. “They may be difficult memories, but they are still yours. They’re a part of you.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand…”

“We all have things that we would like to forget, but if we forget them, then we lose a part of ourselves,” he murmured, glancing aside momentarily as if he were recalling something too. Ema couldn’t say exactly why, but he seemed almost vulnerable in that instant.

In that moment, Ema wondered if Klavier was really all that different from her.

She turned away from him, not even wanting to look at a Gavin right now. “Can you just… go away for a while? I think I need some time to sort this out.”

“Nein, sadly I can’t do that. We have a case to investigate.”

His response surprised her. She looked up at him with shock. How could he be so insensitive?!

“Before you start thinking about what a jerk I am, hear me out,” Klavier didn’t waste much time, though he did run his fingers through the wisps of hair in front of his face. He seemed distressed, and after his next statement, Ema knew why. “The man who died was involved in forging evidence for a murder case long ago. It was my first case and Phoenix Wright’s last.”

That caught her attention. Ema’s eyes widened, “that case? You never fully explained it to me.”

“There is a reason,” Klavier said hesitantly, his voice trailing almost uncharacteristically indecisively before he finally just said it. “Kristoph was involved.”

Ema grimaced, knowing full well what this would mean: a very difficult case full of dead-ends.

“You asked,” Klavier pointed out, his typical glimmerous tone back. He held out a hand to her, inviting her along, “come, fräulein Skye, let’s ride the wind.”

Knowing what that meant too, she grudgingly accepted.

* * *

Time: late

Location: Drew Misham’s home

Mental state: weary

After a short motorcycle ride, they arrived at the Misham’s home/art studio. The little studio was cluttered, and the rest of the house wasn’t much better. The place reminded Ema of a bird’s nest. A very strange bird that was involved in illegal forgeries.

Ema could guess how Drew was involved in Phoenix’s last case. “So Phoenix asked Drew to forge evidence for him?”

Klavier was oddly quiet.

“….well?” she prompted again.

“So it would seem,” he offered finally. Again, he remained peculiarly silent afterwards, quietly absorbing himself in his work instead of the friendly banter they usually shared.

“You don’t really think Phoenix was guilty, do you?” Ema asked bluntly.

“I’m not completely certain, but if he is innocent, then that means someone else must be guilty.” Klavier shook his head subtly. Ema could see the faint wince in his profile.

Klavier had been undeniably upset when Daryan Crescend had been exposed as a drug trafficker and would-be blackmailer. She had seen how torn Klavier was when he removed Daryan from both the band and his position on the police force.

This didn’t really bother Ema at all. Really, Daryan had always given her the creeps, and frankly, she was glad to see him behind bars. But now, she could tell that Klavier was even more upset than before. She could think of only one suspect who would cause him this much grief.

“Someone else, hmm?” Ema sighed, tapping her foot impatiently. “You may as well say Kristoph at this point.”

“Kristoph…” Klavier’s voice again trailed off. It was really uncharacteristic of him to look and sound so defeated.

What was up with him? It didn’t take a scientific genius like her to figure out that Klavier suspected his brother had played a part in Phoenix Wright’s downfall. But… if that was really his concern, why was he wasting his time poking around this place?

“Klavier, go talk to your brother,” Ema stated.

The burgundy-clad prosecutor frowned. “I don’t see how that would help our case.”

“It might not, but it sounds like you have a few issues to sort out with him,” Ema sighed, seeing that he was still hesitant. “Look, it isn’t like this crime scene is going to get any worse than it already is. You told me earlier that Vera Misham is already in custody. Drew Misham was already taken away. We can investigate this scene tomorrow. Tonight…”

“Go talk to Kristoph, I know,” though he was agreeing, Klavier still sounded defeated somehow, and from what Ema could tell, he had nothing to be defeated about. Yet.

“Or, if you’re too cowardly to talk to him, I could…”

“No,” Before she could even finish, Klavier had responded. At first, his face was a tense mask, his lips tight and his eyes widened with panic. Then, his expression softened. He walked up to Ema, taking her hand. “I don’t want to put you through that again. Kristoph is manipulative and deceitful. You should never have to deal with him again. You don’t deserve that.”

For some reason, Ema felt touched by his sudden chivalry. She smirked, “Wow, glimmer, this is a side of you I don’t think I’ve seen. There’s actually a man behind Rockstar Prosecutor Klavier Gavin.”

He laughed lightly, his playful smile returning. “You doubted me, fräulein Skye?” With the way he looked right now, Ema kind of wished that she hadn’t been avoiding having brunch or dinner with him, or going anywhere with him, or being alone with him…

…wait… she was alone with him right now, wasn’t she? Despite their recent morbid conversation, Ema felt tingles forming in the pit of her stomach. It seemed that Klavier was tuned-into her thoughts, because when she looked into his eyes, she could swear that they mirrored the same feeling.

There was a reason she didn’t want to be around him alone, she recalled, as she noticed Klavier take a small step even closer, his hand tightening around hers.

She didn’t know what she would do if he decided to…

And then it happened again. As he leaned closer, the sharp end of his metal Gavinners necklace swung forward, just barely grazing her skin.

Immediately, she felt herself shutting down, filled with fear and dread. It was happening again, this awful feeling of despair, like she was a helpless child and something absolutely terrible was about to happen…

“Ema? Ema!!” Klavier’s voice was distant as her world faded to black.

* * *

Time: ???

Location: ???

Mental State: Groggy…

Ema awoke to an oddly familiar looking dark room. It wasn’t her room, Lana’s guest bedroom, or even the room she had occupied in Kristoph’s condo. No, this dark room had a large comfy bed, a great view of the city, and…

… a wall full of guitars.

“Dear God, not again!” Ema thought to herself miserably, squeezing her eyelids shut.

With perfect timing as usual, the door slowly edged open. “Fraulein Skye?” Out of the corner of her vision, Ema saw the blonde wisps of hair and concerned blue eyes tentatively peek through the door. She panicked for a moment, wondering which Gavin brother this could be before she remembered that the crazy one was already locked away safely in jail.

Confirming her suspicions, Klavier walked in through the door and sat next to her on the bed. It probably took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting, but once he could see that her eyes were sleepily open, he smiled, “Good evening, Ema. Feeling better?”

Ema smiled weakly and nodded. “Embarrassed for the second time in my life, though.”

“Only the second time?” Klavier’s little smirk, along with that comment, earned him the pillow that she threw at his face. He laughed, catching the pillow and placing it back on the bed. “Seriously though, I’m glad that you’re better.”

“I don’t know what it is… but this seems to keep happening,” Ema sighed.

“It does?” Klavier asked, prompting her into telling a bit more of the story.

“Yes, besides the two times you know about, it happened a few times at Kristoph’s apartment too…good thing Kristoph was always around to take care of me,” Ema snorted, realizing the irony in her own statement. Some knight in shining armor he had been…

Klavier grimaced at that statement. He reached up thoughtlessly to touch the Gavinners necklace that was still hanging around his neck, then as if thinking better of it, he let his hand drop back down to his lap.

Ema couldn’t make sense of any of it, and she really didn’t care to at the moment. She had known from day one that glimmer-boy had issues, but she also knew that the solution to those problems would not be something she could fix up overnight. Or over the course of a few months, it seemed.

“Are you well enough to stand?” he asked, drawing her attention back to the present.

“Yes, of course I am!” She exclaimed, and to prove her point, she threw off the covers and leapt to her feet.

That’s when she conveniently remembered the last time she had been asked that question… stood up too quickly… felt the room lurch around her…

…and had been rescued by a Gavin.

But this time, it was Klavier holding her close, steadying her and making sure that she was all right. She clung to his burgundy suit-jacket for a few moments before the world stopped spinning around her.

When it did, she found that neither of them really cared to let go.

It seemed like it should have been strange, walking with Klavier down the hallway and sitting with him on the couch overlooking the city, but it felt so natural. The warmth of his body next to hers, their fingers intertwined loosely together, didn’t feel strange at all.

As they sat by each other on Klavier’s overly squishy leather couch, Ema was struck by a very profound realization.

“You… live in a penthouse, don’t you?” she asked, noticing that they were much higher off the ground than she last remembered… and that not only was the evening skyline beautiful, but the view from the large windows stretched as far around as she could see.

Klavier appeared slightly hurt, “you didn’t notice last time?”

“I was a little preoccupied,” she reminded him, knowing that she wouldn’t have to explain any further to him.

She didn’t, and Klavier seemed to get over it rather quickly. “Yes. Oh well,” he said almost cheerfully as he turned to her. “Would you like anything to eat?”

“If I remember correctly,” Ema began, flipping down her pink shades that were miraculously still on her head. “The last time you only had hot dogs, ketchup, and cheese to offer.”

“And it still beats instant noodles,” Klavier teased, pointing the all too familiar “Take that!” finger at her.

Ema laughed but decided that she may as well let Klavier try cooking for her. As she sat on a high countertop stool, she watched him mill about the kitchen in a most unfamiliar manner and smiled. Lana was right; he really wasn’t like Kristoph at all.

The cheese dogs that he made for them proved it.

Ema gaped at the half-microwave-exploded hot dog (the other half was still frozen) with a thin square of cheese that looked unusually crispy on top. When she looked up at Klavier, she could have sworn he was trying to hold back a laugh.

She didn’t. It started as a giggle, then grew into a hearty laugh that filled the penthouse. Ema didn’t realize it, but it had been a long time since she laughed quite as long and as hard. As she wiped tears from her eyes, she could see that Klavier wasn’t trying to hold back his chuckles anymore either.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked, smiling charmingly as he held out a hand to her.

The smile never left her lips as she took his hand and oh-so-politely suggested, “let’s eat out tonight.”

* * *

Time: 11:30 PM

Location: Some little restaurant

Mood: Happy

Unfortunately, most places of fine and mediocre dining were already closed by this late hour. Ema wasn’t even sure what the name of this place was, and for once, she really didn’t care.

It was finally happening. After all of the times she had avoided it, or mayhem had struck to prevent it, it was happening.

Dinner with Klavier Gavin.

Somehow, this wasn’t how she had pictured it. She had expected something grand, something spectacular, like La Dolce Vita, where Kristoph had first taken her. While this place certainly wasn’t the most well known (at least she assumed it wasn’t) the atmosphere was relaxed, she seats were comfortable, and the food was good.

Klavier was also a little less glimmerous than usual. Ema had always expected a cocky arrogant dinner date, but that wasn’t at all what she received. Sure, he was still Klavier, but somehow he just wasn’t annoying tonight.

Maybe the lack of fangirls had something to do with it.

Ema smiled at the thought, tossing her napkin onto her plate. Moments later, a waiter who looked as if he was pulling a double-shift came by to whisk the remnants of her food away. At the same time, he left a small black folder on the table.

The bill. Ema already knew what would happen; Klavier would pay (he was already reaching for the check) and they would be on their merry way. For some reason, she found herself flashing back to a memory from long ago.

“Don’t let him pay for you.”

She could still hear Kristoph’s ominous tone as he said those words. And yet still she wondered; what the hell did that mean?

This would be the first time he had ever paid for her dinner… what if he…. what if he what? What could possibly happen that would be so horrible? Ema bit her bottom lip, watching nervously as his ringed fingers grasped the tiny black folder.

Klavier slipped some cash into the holder, handed it to the waiter, and it was done. She had let him pay. Was it too late? What would he do? Ema continued to watch him intently, still fearful of the unknown.

Klavier grinned, waving a hand in front of her face. “Ema? Are you still in there, or have you finally been blinded by my amazing physique?”

Ema snapped back quickly, realizing that she had been acting a little strangely since the bill arrived. “You wish, glimmer. No, I was just thinking about how you always seem to pick up the tabs.”

“I assume it is only polite when in the company of a beautiful fräulein such as you, ja?” he responded smoothly, giving her the impression that he had practiced this line before.

Practiced line or not, she still stumbled with her response. “I… well…” after trying and miserably failing to explain her strange reasoning, she settled for a “thank you.”

Something about this dinner was nice. It was pleasantly familiar. It felt like she had been going to dinner with Klavier for ages, and when she thought about it, she had been. What really made dinner different from all of the breakfasts and lunches that they had shared over the last few months?

“It’s just a name,” she murmured to herself, smiling at the thought.

“Come again?” Klavier inquired, looking as perplexed as he should have been by her random statement as he held the door open for her.

Ema walked into the nighttime air, feeling a gentle breeze stir around them. “Whether we have lunch or dinner doesn’t matter to me. It’s just a name,” she spun around, finding herself face-to-face with Klavier. “Whether you call me ‘Fräulein Skye’ or ‘Ema’.... it’s also only a name.”

Klavier looked bemused, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he opted to watch her with his fond blue eyes, leaning to one side while the warm breeze gently agitated his clothing. Ema could only assume it was because he knew she had more that she wanted to say and was waiting for her to finish.

“And yet, Kristoph was fond of calling me ‘mein fräulein,’ whatever that really meant to him. I get the feeling it was one of the many masks he hid behind. Did you know, now that I think about it… he never once called me Ema?”

“There are many things we have yet to reveal about him…” Klavier stated, shaking his head lightly, “but I believe they will all come to the surface very soon.”

Ema had a feeling they would too. If her recent discovery about Kristoph reading her journal wasn’t enough, she now suspected that he had played some part in framing Phoenix Wright. And…if Kristoph was involved in that, he was probably integral to this sticky crime scene too. Had Kristoph… committed another murder?

Ema knew she was speaking for them both when she said, “the sooner the better.”

* * *

For the first time ever, Ema found herself unable to write in her journal.

Ok, so maybe she didn’t exactly pick the best journal in her rush to find out who had fingerprinted her diary. The light pink diary with stars and unicorns embossed into each page was far from professional.

She placed the new book carefully back in its bag, folding the paper ends of the bag over the edges of the book, determined to exchange it for another tomorrow.

She laid back on her futon, clutching her pillow and blowing a few wayward strands of hair from her face. In a short few days, this would be decided. Ema was certain that the investigation would hold her attention easily, but would she be able to bear watching another soul-wrenching trial?

“I will. I have to,” she decided as she fell uneasily to sleep, dreary thoughts of Kristoph again on trial haunting her mind.

LateNiteSlacker's Notes:

My apologies go out to all of you who read this chapter without any quotation marks. removed them for some unknown reason. The problem should be fixed now!

There is only one more chapter left in Ema's saga! Can you believe it? What do you suppose will happen in the next and final chapter? =)