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Stylistic Choices

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Stylistic Choices

Klavier had always hated having his hair cut.

Even as a child it took a lot of persuasion from his brother that it was getting out of control in order for him to go and see a hairdresser.

There was a particular month however, when Kristoph had been busy with the defence bar and as such Klavier had mostly been able to avoid his brother.


A 15-year-old Klavier was looking into a mirror, carefully moulding it into a drill shape. It was unlike any hairstyle he had ever seen before but he had a reason for it - from all the magazines he had been reading about the music industry it was important to have a unique image, and even if music was only a hobby to him he did want to stand out in court as well - after all other prosecutors he could name were instantly recognisable. He didn't want to become some boring man in a suit... He wanted to be like Miles Edgeworth, not like Winston Payne, and it was a way to stand out against his brother whilst they bonded in their pursuit of the truth from opposite ends of the courtroom.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by a cough and a condescending voice.

"Klavier, just what do you think you are doing? Stop this foolishness at once."

Klavier's hand fell from his hair and the 'drill' unwound into frizzy mess as he looked at Kristoph as though he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Ach... bruder. You're back early."

"That bar was no issue for someone who used their time wisely and did not fritter away on idle fantasies."

Klavier winced internally. Contrary to his brother's belief he had studied hard for his Themis entrance exam. Just because it had a harder entrance exam than the place Kristoph had gone didn't mean he was less intelligent than his brother, although a part of him still held doubts, especially with the way Kristoph appeared to be looking right through him.

Not that that in itself was unusual. "Bruder..."

"And please, stop injecting German into your every day dialect. I know you are aiming to study abroad next year but stick to one language. You are helping nobody by making yourself sound like a tourist. If you wish to improve your german to help with your time there, then by all means speak in full german sentences to someone who will understand it, but just using a few words here and there will not help you learn. Now then, what exactly were you doing?”

Klavier smiled at Kristoph at that. Maybe he could explain. “Image is important, ja? I wanted a unique hairstyle.”

“Then if by ‘unique’ you meant ‘ridiculous’ then congratulations, you succeeded. Do you wish to be taken seriously as a lawyer or not?”

“Yes, but -“

“There is no arguing on this point, Klavier. Rockstars may be able to get away with such eccentricities but you are not, and never will be, famous enough to get a way with a hairstyle so over the top that no one would dare point out how foolish it makes you appear.”

Klavier bit down hard on his lip. He wanted to retort that he was wrong, that people really did like the hairstyles of his music idols, but he didn’t. He didn’t say any of this because it was Kristoph making this point - his brother and only family since their parents passed on a few years previously - the person he looked up to and hoped one day he could actually make proud.

Instead he nodded to Kristoph, his shoulders slumped.

“If your hair is bothering you that much, brother, then we can get it cut tomorrow.”

Listening to Kristoph’s gentle tones at his latest suggestion, Klavier found himself agreeing to a haircut.

But if Kristoph thought he was going to get a boring lawyer’s haircut then the other was sadly mistaken.

What Klavier wanted now was something short for once, and what would be considered a normal hairstyle, but it also screamed the word punk.

That would do nicely.


A 16-year old Klavier was coming to the end of his Prosecutor’s course and for once he was at his accommodation in Germany alone. There were exams to plan for and though Klavier wasn’t expecting to graduate next year he knew what he did this time was still important. The better he did this year, the easier it would be to prove to others that even if he started a rock band next year like he fancied doing, it wouldn’t have a negative impact on his grades.

However he had hit a slump in his revision and needed a break. Feeling a little homesick he logged onto his computer and searched for news articles back home. What he came across next left him speechless.

“Another win for Kristoph Gavin, the proclaimed ‘coolest defence in the west’. Mr. Gavin never loses his cool with the prosecution, not even when they seem to be winning the case. His unique but suave hairstyle…”

Klavier had to stop reading as he looked once again at the image. Unique but Suave hairstyle?! That was his hairstyle! The one that Kristoph had claimed looked ridiculous.

He shook his head in disbelief but then a hopeful smile formed on his face.

Did this mean his brother was finally opening up to him?


A 17-year old Klavier was sitting in the prosecutor’s lobby, head in his hands. That had not been how he had imagined his first trial going at all. To think that Wright was that kind of person… if the law was this corrupt what was the point? His band was taking off and was the talk of the world right now, perhaps it would be better for everyone that he took a hiatus, took a step back.

He looked up hesitantly as he heard footsteps, forcing a smile as he saw who it was.

“Klavier, there is no need to mope around here. You have done the world of law a fantastic service. If trust gets any thinner the courtroom could become a very corrupt place indeed.”

Klavier chuckled uneasily. Something still seemed incredibly off to him about all this. He had done what he thought was right at the time and yet…

“I trust you are not blaming yourself for all this, Klavier? I gave you some inside knowledge out of concern and you decided on the best course of action.”

“I… ja,” Klavier mumbled, his smile becoming a little more genuine. “Danke, Kristoph. Without your warning…”

“I would hardly have wanted you losing your first trial unfairly, Klavier. Such a dirty trick to use evidence such as that against a newly qualified prosecutor.”

Klavier couldn’t work out whether that was an insult at himself, the defence, the defendant, or all three. “But the trial still was a disaster… the defendant ran away…”

“Incompetent police.”

Was that a twitch of irritation Klavier could see from Kristoph as the other said that? Perhaps it was just anger at a criminal escaping the law.

That had to be it.

Without Kristoph he may never have even known that this was going to happen, and he certainly wouldn’t have had a chance to find the witness he had.

He owed this case not going even worse than it had done to his brother.

But he still needed thinking time.

Saying farewell to Kristoph, he headed out of the courthouse and dialled a number on his phone. “Daryan? Ja, It’s Klavier. Do you think all of us could get together? The single is still spreading like wildfire and I think it’s about time for a tour.”


Seven years later and Klavier returned home with a slightly heavy heart. News of Kristoph’s arrest had reached him on the grapevine and with Phoenix Wright being the original defendant of the case had bought back memories of a trial he had spent the past seven years trying to forget.

There was always something niggling him at the back of his mind. And then there was this new Defence Attorney - Apollo Justice - he was curious to meet the one man who had ever bested his brother and also to make sure that Phoenix Wright was not trying to distort a promising new attorney.

He fiddled uneasily with his fringe as he stepped out of the plane onto home soil. His tour with his band had taken him many places, even as far as Borginia, and though he had done some tours in the States it had been at least a few months since he had last been in this area.

His hair now resembled that of Kristoph’s - something he had initially done out of respect for his brother’s help in his first court case in the hope that the other would see it as an acceptance, like he had with that article he had read whilst he was still a student all those years ago.

Now however he was wondering about changing it again. If Kristoph was truly a murderer did he really want a hairstyle that most would attribute as being his brother’s design rather than his own?

But that was the point. It was his own. He had attempted this design years before Kristoph and though it had not been perfect at the time, it was now part of his image. He was happy with the way he was.

No, it was his duty to make sure his eye for great hairstyles were remembered for the right, rather than wrong reason.

He would continue to rock this hairstyle unless it became a severe issue to his career or his hobby.

“Do I really have to work with this glimmerous fop?”

Klavier paused as he unwittingly overheard what he presumed was the detective assigned to him talking to someone else and swallowed.

Wasn’t that exactly the comment Kristoph had warned this hairstyle would attract?

Perhaps Kristoph had been right. After all he could never be as ’suave’ as his brother.

Forcing his ‘performer’s smile’ onto his face he sauntered over to the people there to meet him. “Achtung, Fraulien, I’m Prosecutor Klavier Gavin. Or should I say, ‘that glimmerous fop’, ja?”

As he was hit with some weird round snack that the other had been eating, Klavier got a taste for what their relationship would be like.

Still, at least he had got a reaction out of her.


The year is now 2027 and Klavier had just finished his performance at Themis Academy. Oh how he had missed performing. He was looking at the stage that was now empty, the staff having been busy disassembling it. The past few days had been an emotional rollercoaster.

Believing he was alone he leant against the wall and tried to push back tears.

“Prosecutor Gavin?”

Ach. He’d know those chords of steel anywhere. So much for any time alone with his thoughts. Though that was probably a good thing. Quickly he straightened his jacket back out, put on his widest smile and snuck up behind the other. “Ja?”

“Ack! Don’t do that!”

“Do what? I seem to recall you were the one who shouted my name loud enough for the whole campus to here, Herr Forehead?”

“B-but normal people would answer back not sneak up behind them!”

Klavier chuckled at the other’s reaction. “And miss that priceless expression on your face, Herr Forehead? I think not.” He then relaxed into a more gentle smile. “Anyway, what can I do for you? I thought everyone had gone home.”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Okay, that was a new one. Was he okay? Klavier honestly wasn’t sure, but he didn’t voice it. Instead he shrugged and gave Apollo the brightest smile he could muster. “I’ve had a wonderful evening performing, why wouldn’t I be fine?”

The other didn’t seem convinced and Klavier hoped that Apollo would not press the issue. Instead he decided to try and distract him before he could say anything else. “You’re staring again, Herr Forehead.”

“S-sorry… I was just wondering…”

“Go on… I don’t bite.”

“Your hairstyle. Why have you never changed it? I mean it’s none of my business but from what Mr Wright has said your hair wasn’t always like this.”

Klavier’s smile changed into a fond but also rather melancholic one. He reached an arm around Apollo’s shoulders and hugged him to his body, much to the other’s embarrassment and chagrin. “That, Herr Forehead, is a long story.”

“I wish I’d never asked now. For what it’s worth I think that pretentious overcomplicated style suits your fashion better than it ever did Mr. Gavin’s.”

“Is that your idea of a compliment, Herr Demon Horns?” Klavier teased back.

However deep down he felt a sense of relief.

Perhaps he would keep this hairstyle after all.