Drabbles - The Silent Turnabout

<sup>Title: The Silent Turnabout
Crossover: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! x Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney
Status: Drabble. Feedback appreciated.

Nitpickery:
Two important points before we start: Gyakuten Saiban (Phoenix Wright's original title) was set in Japan, and the names, locations, and many character quirks were localized to fit English-speaking audiences. We're used to saying Phoenix Wright and not Naruhodo Ryuichi, and the rest of the original names and quirks are more fan-trivia than common knowledge.

In KHR, purely set in Japan, characters have very characteristic ways of calling each other (Example: Tenth, Tsuna, Tsuna-kun, Tsuna-sama, Vongola, etc.). So you have that vs. the Phoenix Wright American names (Example: Phoenix Wright, Nick, Feenie, Mr. Wrong, Whippersnapper, etc.).

For this fic, the setting is Japan. So what we're going to do is compromise: we'll keep the canon nicknames and quirks as known by English-speaking audiences, since they are so characteristic, but for everything else/new, we'll go with American naming. This means first name followed by family name, and the KHR characters being the only ones to use Japanese suffixes. It's going to make them sound slightly out-of-place, but well. We already knew the Vongola were a weird bunch.

Set a few weeks after Phoenix Wright: Trials and Tribulations, but doesn't follow the events in Ace Attorney Investigations: Miles Edgeworth.</sup>

~~~~

The mornings in Wright & Co. Law Offices were a bit quieter than usual for the last two weeks. Which was only normal, because two of its usual inhabitants were currently absent.

Phoenix Wright sighed where he lay on the couch, eyes fixed on the ceiling above, vaguely aware that the radio program he'd been listening to had turned into a mushy-love-song fest at some point in the past ten minutes. Which, he mused, was not something he should be listening to at this time: February was finally coming to an end, but he couldn't really say the same about the thoughts that had been tormenting him since his last trial.

Not even a month ago, he'd been the defending attorney in a mind-numbing murder case, something he was surprisingly accustomed to. What he wasn't accustomed to was old college sweethearts coming back to haunt him, never mind that he hadn't known it was her at the time.

The spiky-haired man shook his head, pulling himself off the couch and heading for the radio. He'd gotten closure by the end of the trial, and Iris was now serving jail time for her crimes (thankfully not murder charges, Phoenix had proved her not guilty of those). It wasn't like he was the person who had suffered the most throughout the case, not nearly.

It was just, with Maya and Pearls back on Kurain for additional spirit-medium training, and nothing else to occupy his mind, his mind tended to wander.

"This place could use some cleaning up, I suppose," he sighed, looking around the office. Not much to do but dust off the furniture, since there were no hyperactive mediums to mess it over, but he hadn't cleaned the bathroom for a week now...

"Excuse me."

Huh?

Phoenix turned around at the sound of the unexpected voice over by the doorway, raising his eyebrows when he saw a young man standing there.

"Can I help you?"

The teen took that as an invitation and stepped further into the room, nodding courteously at Phoenix. His skin was tanned, and judging from his lean shape and the baseball bat bag slung over his shoulder, it came from a lot of time spent outdoors.

Briefly, he decided this kid was one of the most normal-looking people to have stepped into the office since it became Phoenix's.

"Haha, I really hope you can. Would you be Phoenix Wright? Ace attorney?"

"Erm, well, yes." Although he didn't know where the 'ace' came from, to be completely honest. "I'm a defense attorney."

"Great! Pleased to meet you, Mr. Attorney, I'm Takeshi Yamamoto. You can call me Takeshi, almost no one does." He tilted his upper body forward in a small bow, and Phoenix returned the gesture while puzzling over what this kid could want. He was tall, but he didn't look any older than fifteen, maybe sixteen. Were kids that age even allowed to hire attorneys? "I've heard you're a great lawyer. So would you help my friend?"

"Well, the thing is..." he started awkwardly, trying to keep a straight face as he considered just how he could deny the kid's case without sounding like a total ass. He wasn't sure he felt up for another case just yet, and what would happen to cleaning out the toilet?

But something in the cheerful teen's face stopped him. It was faint, but Phoenix thought he could catch a slightly strained edge to his smile. Maya's smiles after the trial had been just like that, though they had gotten steadily more honest within the few days they had together after the event. Once more, he recalled the boy in front of him couldn't be past sixteen, and he sighed as he felt his decision crumble.

"Alright, maybe. Could you tell me about your friend's situation? Where is he?" Probably in the detention center. It wouldn't be the first time his first meeting with a client occurred there.

"Oh, he's in the hospital."

"The – the hospital!?" That was a new one. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah. He should be out by this afternoon, he's only got a few scratches on him. We should go visit."

And so they did. Phoenix was pleased to find out his client wasn't in Hotti Clinic, but the bus trip to Namimori Hospital took a bit longer than expected. By the time they reached it, there was a bit of police mobilization going on outside: two policemen were preparing their police car, Phoenix could only assume to move the suspect to the detention center.

To their good fortune, Takeshi's friend was only just preparing to leave. But to their misfortune...

"The hell are you doing here, baseball freak?"

Phoenix couldn't help but take a couple steps back when he caught the ardent glare the light-haired teen was sending their way. Privately, he thought he had nothing to be ashamed of: he was pretty sure that look would've made even Gumshoe quiver in his shoes.

"Hahaha, I see you're feeling better, Gokudera." Takeshi, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed by his friend's hostile behavior, so Phoenix braved those two or three steps back forward. Hopefully, he'd be all bark and no bite.

Still, despite his lean frame, there was a bit of muscle in the arms that pulled a black hoodie over his shoulders, leaving it unzipped. It was worn and had a skull motif, and coupled with the nasty glare, it made him look like a kid straight out of juvie; someone you wouldn't want to stumble with on a dark alley.

"Che. A couple broken ribs aren't going to keep me down." Phoenix gaped. Sure, the kid was standing a bit stiffly, but he wouldn't have guessed his ribs were broken. Maybe that was why the nurse kept hovering by the entrance to the room, where a police officer was keeping watch. "I'd be good as new if they hadn't insisted on keeping me here all night."

Highly doubtful. Freshly-changed bandages were peeking from under his red shirt, halfway over his bruised neck, and there was a white plaster on his right cheek. The kid must have been pretty banged up when he arrived, but he didn't want to lose face in front of his friend.

Almost as if he'd heard Phoenix's thoughts, sharp green eyes snapped towards him.

It was a wonder he didn't keel over right there and then. If he'd thought the glare Takeshi had been greeted with was hostile, this one was downright deathly.

"Who's that?" he asked, voice dripping with suspicion. Phoenix noticed his fist clenched by his side, and retook those two steps back to prevent a punch, although he was well out of arm's reach already.

"Ah, this is Phoenix Wright. You know, the guy from the magazine! The one that solved the possession case."

Magazine?

"Um, Takeshi, what magazine are you talking about?"

The baseball player beamed. "I'm pretty sure it's called 'Oh Cult'." Figures. That magazine brought nothing but trouble. He just couldn't believe it had landed him in a case twice this year. He hadn't even known he had appeared in the February issue, since it was Pearls who usually got them. "Gokudera brought it to school a few days ago. He's a big fan of occult things and aliens, you see."

"S-s-shut up!" Phoenix was pretty sure he wasn't imagining the blooming pink color in the teen's cheeks. "It wasn't even a possession case, you just can't read! What did you bring him for, anyway?"

Phoenix felt like slapping his own forehead. He was feeling less and less inclined to take this case... if there was even one to speak of.

"He said he's going to be your lawyer!"

He really hadn't, but one just didn't say no to such a confident and joyful declaration.

The kid's expression was foreboding.

"I didn't ask for a lawyer," he growled. And Phoenix wanted to take that as his cue to turn and leave, but...

"But you need a lawyer, right? Mr. Bubblegum said your trial would start after you recovered from your injuries."

And since Gokudera was already dressed and ready to leave the hospital, Phoenix guessed that would be tomorrow. They must be taking him to the precinct to question him. Was it disheartening that he no longer had the energy to complain about having little to no time to prepare for his trials?

"I don't need a lawyer," sneered the punk. He sounded pretty confident, too.

"Gokudera," Takeshi began, a slightly more serious edge to his tone. But before he could continue, and even before Phoenix could say a single word to his newest client, the policeman at the door came in.

"Hayato Gokudera, we're leaving now. If you two want to continue talking to the suspect, you'll have to do so at the detention center."

"Don't even dare show your face there," Gokudera snapped, making a show of pushing past both Phoenix and Takeshi on his way out.

"Don't go doing something that would upset Tsuna," Yamamoto said softly, but loud enough for his friend (and incidentally the lawyer) to hear. Phoenix thought he saw the teen's shoulders tense for a moment, but he continued out the door an instant later, shadowed by the police officer on his way down the hallway.

For a moment, Phoenix just stood there, feeling like he'd very narrowly avoided a volatile situation.

"That... didn't go too well," he offered. Takeshi laughed next to him.

"No kidding. I don't think he liked you." Which was a gross understatement in Phoenix's opinion.

They moved out of the hospital room for the nurses to clean up. By the time they got to the main entrance, the police car was nowhere to be seen, and Phoenix wasn't sure he'd see the little punk again. Gokudera had been adamant in his rejection.

"Mr. Lawyer." Takeshi's voice was soft, and when the attorney looked over, he saw narrow brown eyes over a rueful smile. "Gokudera can be very stubborn, but he's a good guy. And he really needs your help right now. So please..."

No pressure, really. How did one say no to that? Phoenix sighed; while Hayato Gokudera hadn't been very forthcoming, his friend was certainly chummy. And very convincing.

"Your friend is going to get questioned when he gets to the precinct, so no use heading there right now. We should go to the scene of the crime if there's one, to get some investigation done. What is he being accused of, anyway?"

"Ah, they're accusing him of first degree murder."

W-w-w...

"WHAAAAAAAT!?" Takeshi's eyes went wide with amusement at the look that must have been in Phoenix's face, but the defense attorney had no time to complain about this. "H-how – he's what, sixteen? How could he get accused of murder!?"

"He's fifteen, actually. But he didn't do it, Mr. Lawyer: he would have told me if he wanted to kill someone. The kid with Tsuna always says that game needs at least two people for clean-up!"

His mind was running blank right now, and he could not make sense of the things Takeshi was talking about. He wasn't sure he wanted to understand them, either.

At this time, only one thing was clear: he would have to go to the scene of the crime to clear things up. The situation would probably start looking much better once he had all the details.

They arrived to the scene via taxi, in a quiet zone of Namimori with nothing but rows of neat little warehouses as far as the terrain allowed. Each rectangular building was identified by a brass number sitting above a garage door large enough to allow a moving van inside. The only other entrances to the warehouses were the wooden doors located next to the metallic garage doors and long rows of small windows near the top of either side of the warehouse. They looked large enough for a grown man to climb through, if only they weren't so high off the ground, which must be why most of those windows were so murky with dust and grime.

After double-checking something in his cell-phone, Takeshi had declared they should head over to Warehouse Five, although given the current state of the area, Phoenix thought he would have been able to find it without directions.

There was a lot of movement going on, all focused on where warehouse number five should have been. Warehouse four and six at either side of it hadn't come out unscathed: all the windows on the sides that faced warehouse five were destroyed, warehouse four was missing a chunk of ceiling, and a good part of warehouse number six's wall seemed to be near crumbling. But at least they were standing.

Warehouse number five was nothing but an unrecognizable heap of debris, slowly being cleared away by the police officers.

"Wow, this place is messy!" Takeshi pointed out, to which Phoenix only nodded numbly.

"What exactly happened here?" he wondered, looking down at the remains of a wall near him. One side was darkened by scorch marks and lined with cracks, to the point Phoenix thought it would topple over if he prodded it with his foot.

"Looks like an explosion. It could have been Gokudera's doing."

He still couldn't deal with the fact one kid could be this dangerous. He definitely would need to go talk to him after this; as much as he wanted to trust Takeshi's faith in his friend, he'd just admitted to how dangerous said friend could be.

"Let's go take a closer look," suggested the lawyer, starting to walk around the rubble towards the cleared-out zones. The sound of crashing pebbles warned him to the fact Takeshi wasn't following his lead. He looked back to see him climbing over the large heap of broken cement, keeping his footing despite the fact he kept dislodging whatever wreckage he stepped on. "Hey, you shouldn't do that—"

"HEY! BE CAREFUL THERE, KID!"

"Oh! Hey, Mr. Bubblegum!"

Ah, yeah. Phoenix had been wondering about that, but he'd already known who Takeshi was most likely referring to.

"T-the name's Gumshoe! Detective Dick Gumshoe!" Sure enough, the man had not changed a bit since their last encounter. His worn-out coat still looked as rugged and unwashed as ever, if a bit more dusty than usual. He very nearly tripped on his way towards them. "Whoa! Haha, I didn't fall down this time!"

He sounded terribly proud of that, too, and wore a wide grin until he remembered why he had headed over in the first place.

"Hey, kid, you shouldn't be here! The scene of the crime is very dangerous! There might still be explosives laying around!"

"Are you serious!? Takeshi, get down from there!" The teen laughed but complied, and Phoenix was beginning to think he shouldn't have let him tag along.

Detective Gumshoe nodded his approval, thick arms crossed over his thicker chest. "You oughta be careful, pal. The bomb squad already combed the place, but you never know. We're being extra-careful here."

Somehow, he didn't think 'extra-careful' and 'Gumshoe' could co-exist in the same habitat. But if something bad had happened, Gumshoe would have mentioned it already, wouldn't he? Then again, one could never be too careful.

"We'll keep that in mind, Detective. I can't imagine the investigation is going too well, with the scene buried under all of this."

"O ho ho ho ho ho ho ho," Gumshoe grinned widely. "You'd think that, wouldn't you? But we've actually uncovered pretty important information already, pal. It's very decisive evidence, let me tell you!"

Phoenix felt his shoulders slump a little in dread, but straightened before Takeshi would take notice. It would be a good idea to try and get as much information about the case as possible from Gumshoe.

"Really now? What sort of evidence would that be?" he wondered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully and taking a gamble. "Wouldn't all of it have been destroyed by the explosions?"

"Well, it's true the few things that were inside the warehouse were heavily damaged, but we still found this!"

The detective produced a sealed evidence bag from one of his coat's many inner pockets. What was inside could only be described as a broken-down technologic thingy. Or, if one was to be generous, scrap metal that may have once resembled a tiny device: whatever it had been before, it could have been easily fit on the palm of the hand.

"What's that supposed to be?" he opted for asking.

"The bomb squad said it's got to be a remote trigger for the bombs that destroyed the building," which Phoenix made a mental note of, "but they're going to examine it more closely once I take it to the precinct."

"How weird," Takeshi eyed the remote closely. "This thing is not Gokudera's style at all."

"That's right! How would a middle school student get his hands on remote-control bombs?" But, hadn't Takeshi mentioned something about explosions just a while ago...?

"Well, I dunno about the remote-controlled types," Gumshoe admitted with a grin that made Phoenix uneasy. "But the suspect had a large amount of dynamite sticks on him when they checked him over."

"W-what! Then, Takeshi, what did you...!?"

"Haha, I'm sorry, Mr. Lawyer," the teen said, looking contrite enough. "I only meant that the remote control doesn't look like the type Gokudera owns. His things usually have skulls painted on them."

S-so he really does own remote-control explosives--!?

"N-nevermind that!" Phoenix had to get his head back to the case. It was too early to be this thrown off-guard, and there was still hope. He had a bad feeling about it, but he had to press. "You found the remote control in the debris, didn't you? That would mean Hayato was also trapped in the explosion, but we saw him in the hospital just a while ago."

"Oh, yeah, we're the ones who got him the ambulance."

Just like he'd suspected. His throat was starting to feel very dry.

"Then, those wounds... You mean to say Hayato was trapped here by the explosion?"

Gumshoe nodded, and jerked his head towards an area several feet beyond them. A supporting pillar was still halfway standing, and at the base of it was the outline of a human figure made out of white tape.

"That's where the victim was found?"

"Yup. The killer was right on top of him, unconscious. We only found them thanks to the killer's cellphone: It was ringing under the rubble, so we could dig them out before long," explained Gumshoe.

"That was probably me. I was trying to call him all night because I was worried." Well, that made sense. Hayato and Takeshi were supposed to be friends, after all.

"Hey, pal." Phoenix looked up from where he was inspecting the pillar base, frowning when he saw Gumshoe's concerned scowl. "Are you seriously going to take this case?"

"Yeah," he answered, straightening his suit as he stood back up.

"You should reconsider that. This case if going to get very messy."

Phoenix wanted to scoff. When had he ever denied a case on the lone fact that it might be complicated? If anything, easy cases avoided him like soap avoided Gumshoe's dusty coat. Some of what he was thinking must have shown on his face, because Gumshoe's scowl was back full-force.

"I mean it, pal! The victim in this case was a policeman, and Mr. Edgeworth says this could be tied to organized crime."

Which meant that the prosecution would be going all-out against Hayato Gokudera, because the victim was one of their own. All in all, more bad news for the defense, and Phoenix didn't even want to touch the organized crime angle for fear of what he'd find out.

"Do you have the details regarding the victim's death yet?"

Gumshoe scoffed, shoulders slumping. "So you're going to pursue this anyway. Can't say I didn't expect you to, pal." The large man pulled a manila folder from an inner pocket and passed it over for Phoenix to check out. "The kid's very young. I'm actually hoping we're on the wrong track here."

~~~~

Phoenix thought this might be his most frustrating client to date. And boy, did Hayato Gokudera have some tough competition for the title.

Yet no matter how eccentric his other clients may be, no matter if they lied or if they were claiming to be guilty, they would at least talk to him. Hayato had been loud enough about insulting the guards that had escorted him here, but from the moment he had stepped into the room and set eyes on his visitor, the stubborn little punk had not said a single word. Heck, he was just sitting there, scowling at something on the wall to his left and drumming his fingers on the surface between them.

Phoenix was starting to miss the chatty Takeshi, even if he didn't understand some of the things he said.

"The precinct is over half an hour away, and I would like to speak with your friend by myself," he'd told the kid, and he'd also given him his contact information, in case he recalled anything he thought might be important to the case. "You don't need to come with me, so just head back home. You have school tomorrow, don't you?"

Maybe he should have let him come along. Whether his presence would make Hayato angrier or more cooperative, Phoenix didn't know, but it would've been worth a shot.

"The police found this on the scene of the crime," he began, trying for what felt like the hundredth time to get the kid's attention. His eyes did flicker to the photograph of the broken remote control, but otherwise didn't acknowledge Phoenix's efforts. "They're going to be looking for fingerprints, but they're not going to find anything, are they? Because this isn't yours."

He thought he heard the drumming pause for a moment.

Maybe another angle.

"The victim was police officer Isamu Yoinu, who was a well-liked and hard-working man." He passed the picture of the young officer over. With a rich mustache the same dark color of his short-trimmed hair, Officer Yoinu had only been a few years older than Phoenix before being murdered. He had warm chocolate-colored eyes that seemed to smile even in the picture. No family to speak of, but Detective Gumshoe had mentioned a girlfriend. "He patrols the streets of Namimori frequently, but we haven't found even one report to suggest he knew you before yesterday. You didn't have a motive to kill him as far as I know."

Hayato's eyes darted towards the photograph, but they were back on the wall before Phoenix could try to guess what emotion flickered in them. He didn't deny or confirm any of Phoenix's claims.

This was getting ridiculous.

Pulling out his cell phone, he attempted yet another approach. "Your friend Takeshi showed me something interesting. A certain text message."

That seemed to get his attention, because the teen turned his whole head to look at the lit screen through the glass.

sos @ wh 5

The police doubtlessly also had the message, as it had been sent from Hayato's mobile to Takeshi's. The kid had shown it to him after Gumshoe mentioned the cryptic message. And while it was true that the message was confusing without context, any rational person with knowledge of the crime (as long as they weren't Detective Gumshoe) would deduct the meaning of the seven letters and symbols in it.

" 'Help at warehouse five'," he read aloud when Hayato's expression turned mutinous. "You sent this a few minutes after several explosions were heard in the scene, asking Takeshi to come help you. But he couldn't decipher the message as it was." The pale bangs were covering most of the teens' eyes now, but Phoenix was aware his expression wasn't getting any happier. "He knew you were asking for help, but he didn't know where to go. He called your phone several times without response: you were already trapped under the debris, and you couldn't answer his phone calls.

"The police are saying you planned to kill Officer Yoinu by having the warehouse collapse on him. They say you messed up and ended up blowing the building while you were still inside." A small sound of protest was out before Hayato could stop himself, and it was enough to show the idea offended him. According to Takeshi, his friend was very good at handling his own dynamite. Which could only mean... "But I don't believe that. I can't believe someone as proficient with explosives as you are would make such a huge mistake, and end up trapped inside a rigged building you'd set up yourself."

He took a deep breath, and laid down his conclusion:

"It wasn't you who made the warehouse explode."

Hayato's shoulders were shaking a bit, and Phoenix couldn't see his eyes at all behind those heavy bangs. This had to be it, maybe appealing to the kid's pride had done the trick. Any second now, he'd break down and give Phoenix the knowledge he needed to prove his innocence in front of a judge –

WHAM!

Phoenix's cheap chair clattered loudly against the floor, having knocked it over with a startle when Hayato's fist slammed on the metallic ledge between them.

"I'm going to fucking kill that guy!" Hayato snarled, and Phoenix could see the stormy green eyes glaring daggers at nothing from his position on the floor. "Who the hell asked him to show that message around. Cooperating with the law, goddamit."

Only when he remembered that there was no way Hayato could punch through the reinforced window did Phoenix pull himself off the floor, noticing that the guard at the door behind Hayato had made no move to come when he heard the commotion. He did lean over to peer at Phoenix, who gave him a gesture to signal he was fine, thank you very much.

Hayato was no longer ignoring him, but his expression continued being invariably hostile.

"Listen up, Mr. Lawyer," he sneered when Phoenix sat back on his righted chair. "You're wasting your time here. I'm not going to tell you anything, just like I didn't tell that pompous bastard of a prosecutor, either."

Phoenix found a bit of comfort in the fact that the kid had been as unhelpful to Edgeworth as he was being with Phoenix, but it wasn't enough to quench the frustration welling up in him.

"But—" he began.

"I did it!" Hayato bellowed at last. "I killed him, alright! It was me!"

Phoenix froze, eyes going wide in shock at the declaration, and even wider at the familiar ringing of chains echoing inside his head. He hadn't even realized he'd sought out the Magatama in his pocket.

Everything else was tuned out of his mind, his eyes focused only on Hayato, and the crisscrossing multitude of chains that had fallen around him. The teen was oblivious to the impressive amount of supernatural red locks before him. Those red devices, known as Psyche Locks, revealed to Phoenix the fact that Hayato was lying. Not only that, he was determined not to tell him the truth.

VERY determined, he thought, given the amount of locks his heart had on it. His eyes quickly drifted over them, counting at least half a dozen, and missing the puzzled look Hayato was giving him. He did hear the teenager huff, though, and dazedly released the glowing green jewel in his pocket, letting the rest of the world come back into focus.

A heavy silence fell, as Phoenix tried to calm his racing heart and figure out what this meant to the case. He had already shown every piece of evidence available to Hayato, which meant none of it would help him undo all those psyche locks. He had absolutely nothing to go on from here.

And Hayato wasn't helping at all.

The kid had calmed down after his outburst, and had fished out a cigarette from a pocket of his jeans, proceeding to gnaw on the unlit stick with his front teeth. They must have confiscated his lighter, but that didn't explain how they had missed the cigarettes.

Does he really want to be declared guilty? Phoenix wondered, feeling his fists tighten on his lap. He's underage, but he'd still spend the next few years in reform school, if he's lucky...

Clenching his teeth, Phoenix decided to give it one last try:

"I'm trying to help you here!" And that came louder than he'd expected it to, but it did make Hayato's eyes drift over to him. Better push on. "I know you're innocent, no matter what you say. So why won't you talk to me, Hayato?"

His tone was back in control, if sounding very upset still. But anger seemed to be acceptable for his punkish client, who pulled the cig from between his teeth and gave him a look that screamed resigned irritation.

"... Omertà."

"...!"

The term sounded grimly familiar. Detective Gumshoe's warning echoed through his mind.

Mr. Edgeworth says this could be tied to organized crime.

But that couldn't be. Hayato couldn't be part of some sort of mafia at only fifteen years of age.

Could he?