Chapter Text
Kat'oh Mitamah, better known in the United States as Twilight Day, was just around the corner.
It was a cause for celebration in Khura'in—a time when spirits breached the borders between the Twilight Realm and the land of the living. The monks say that if you listen closely, you can hear the voices of your lost loved ones, praising your resolve and encouraging you to keep living. Even if the grief hurts. Even if it feels like you can't go on.
Kat'oh Mitamah was almost here, and Apollo Justice was dreading it.
Apollo's recollections of the holiday were steeped in nostalgia and fond memories. He was always too short to reach the shrine's top by himself, so Dhurke would hoist him up by the hips to decorate the top with candles and flowers. Nahyuta would memorize entire passages of scripture, quoting them throughout the day and quizzing his family on their religious knowledge. Even Datz participated in the festivities, plucking approximations of ceremonial songs on a beat-up sitar they kept in the attic.
For the longest time, Kat'oh Mitamah was a fantastic day Apollo looked forward to every year. Even while hiding in the United States, far away from his old home's massive temples and sacred sanctums, Apollo and the Sahdmadhi family continued to honour the traditions together. Every year, they decorated a homemade shrine with photographs of long-lost loved ones. They kept their memories close, holding their spirits close to their hearts.
And then the political unrest in Khura'in came to a head. Amara, presumed dead, had suddenly emerged from hiding, seizing back the throne in a sudden and violent coup. She declared herself the righteous ruler of Khura'in and immediately struck down the Defense Culpability Act. Finally, after so many years, Gar'an's reign of terror had come to a close. But there was much work left to be done—the country was in turmoil after such a sudden coup. It was all hands on deck for the royal family.
Rayfa struggled with both her ascetic and royal training, having spent so long away from Khura'in. So as soon as Amara declared it was safe to return, she went back overseas to be with her mother and continue her studies. Nahyuta went along to aid her, of course, and Dhurke was eager to go and see his beloved wife for the first time in years. One by one, the Sahdmadhis decided to return to the Kingdom of Khura'in and resume their old lives.
Apollo didn't go with them.
As much as Apollo would love to say he was happy to stay in the United States, that wasn't the real reason. In all honesty, Apollo didn't feel like he belonged in Khura'in—especially in the royal palace, of all places. He'd barely met Amara, Rayfa didn't like him all that much, and it's not like Apollo was part of the family, anyway. He was just Dhurke's charity case.
Dhurke was sad to hear that he wouldn't be coming home, and Nahyuta was pretty angry for a while, but they let it go eventually. Apollo wouldn't be leaving the country, and there was no way to change his mind.
Datz, surprisingly, stayed in the United States with Apollo. He made himself busy as Apollo's de facto assistant and part-time chef. He even helped out with cases from time to time, even though he'd rarely set foot in court before. But even Datz was usually nowhere to be found when Kat'oh Mitamah was approaching—he preferred to celebrate at home with the Sahdmadhis.
So there Apollo was, one day before the most important holiday in all of Khura'in, planning to skip the festivities altogether.
"Are you sure you don't want to come this time, AJ?" Datz had asked a few days earlier. He nudged Apollo with his arm, stealing the attorney's attention away from the form he was filling out. "Dhurke would be happy to see you. Yuty, too."
"They'll be fine without me." Apollo pulled away from Datz. He turned back to the form, not even gracing Datz with eye contact. "Princess Rayfa and Queen Amara are in charge now, right? They've got a lot on their plate with Twilight Day coming up. I'm sure they'll be too busy helping with that to miss me."
Oh sure, Datz was a great guy—he and Dhurke had practically raised Apollo, and he was thankful for all they'd done for him—but he couldn't understand what Apollo was feeling. Datz still had a family of his own, even if he didn't live with them anymore. He couldn't understand why Kat'oh Mitamah was such a sore spot. God knows Dhurke would never get it, either.
At some point between Apollo finishing the first form and starting the next one, Datz silently left the office, leaving Apollo alone at his desk once more. He stayed there for the whole evening, working the day away, and only thought to go home when Trucy called and asked where he was. She sounded concerned, almost upset. Apollo hoped he wasn't the cause of it.
Unlike Datz, Trucy understood how Apollo felt to an extent. She loved living with Phoenix, and she slotted nicely into his ragtag group of various misfits, but she was adopted. Her real family was all but dead at this point. If nothing else, she understood the pain of having a hole where a family was supposed to be.
Trucy still kept a photo of Zak Gramarye hanging on the office wall, right above the piano. Even with how horrible of a person Zak was, Trucy deserved to miss him. She deserved to miss her real dad.
Apollo wished he had a face to miss like Trucy did. Maybe that was selfish of him, and maybe it was insensitive to what Trucy had gone through, but he couldn't help it. He was jealous. And he was man enough to admit it.
When the sun rose on the dreaded day of Kit'oh Mitamah, Trucy was already knocking on Apollo's apartment door. She'd brought over a basket of baked goods, courtesy of herself and Phoenix, and showed him how to make a blueberry muffin disappear. Apollo almost managed to forget about Kat'oh Mitamah and almost managed to smile without restraint. Trucy even convinced him to watch some cheesy cartoons with her.
But he couldn't forget. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. And he couldn't stop hurting, no matter how hard he tried.
It was around two or three in the afternoon when somebody knocked on the office door, interrupting Apollo's paperwork-slash-cartoon marathon. Apollo glanced up from his desk, expecting Phoenix to walk inside.
But instead, the door creaked open, and Apollo met the kind but hesitant gaze of Dhurke Sahdmadhi. He stood rather awkwardly in the doorway, shuffling a bit like he wasn't sure if he had the right place or not.
"...Dhurke?"
"Hey, son. Glad to see you're relaxing, at least." Dhurke shook off his hesitance and managed a full grin. He strode right up to Apollo and placed a calloused hand on his shoulder. “Happy Kat’oh Mitamah, Apollo.” Trucy gasped sharply at the sight and ran over to give him a tight hug. Dhurke laughed, ruffling her hair. "You too, Trucy! Happy Twilight Day!"
Apollo brushed the hand aside, cocking his head in confusion. "I thought you were busy in Khura'in this week."
"I'm never too busy to see you."
"It's Twilight Day, Dhurke. Doesn't Queen Amara have a lot to do? Like, all the ceremonies and stuff? I thought you'd be spending the day with her."
Dhurke frowned, folding his arms over his chest. "You can just call her Amara, son. Or mom, if you want. You're practically her kid."
"I've only had three conversations with her," Apollo replied with an annoyed bristle. "I'm definitely not her kid."
"Oh, don't say that. Besides, she's got it covered. She used to do the entire day by herself before she married me. And now she's got Ray-Ray and Yuty to help." Dhurke's grin fell a bit. "Are you… not happy to see me, Apollo?"
Apollo cursed himself, looking guilty all of a sudden. "No, I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I'm always happy to see you, Dhurke." He sighed, throwing a sideways glance at Trucy, who hadn't said anything yet. "I just… wasn't planning on doing anything today. That's all."
"…Hey, Miss Truce, could we have a minute alone?" Dhurke seemed a bit embarrassed to ask for privacy. Trucy nodded curtly and made a quick exit—but not before giving Apollo a brief hug on her way out.
Once Trucy was gone, Dhurke shoved his hand into his jacket pocket. "It's too bad you're not celebrating... I brought you a surprise for your shrine."
When Apollo narrowed his eyes, unsure of what to make of that, Dhurke's hand emerged pinching a small folded piece of paper, singed and crumpled and torn at one of the corners. "I know things are different now that Amara's back… and it was hard for you to grow up without your real family. But I thought you could use some company today." He held the paper towards Apollo, gesturing for him to take it. "Not just from me, but from these guys, too."
Apollo wasn't sure what to expect from such a beat-up paper. He carefully unfolded it, careful not to damage it any further.
Turns out it was a photograph—a pretty ancient one, too. It had to be a decade or two old, if not older than that, judging by the yellowing of the polaroid paper. And thanks to the burn marks and various creases, it was difficult for Apollo to make out what he was looking at.
"I got this from a detective who investigated the royal residence fire twenty years ago," Dhurke explained. "This photo was taken as evidence. But now that we know Amara survived, they've been getting rid of it all. I asked to sort through the boxes of stuff they recovered… and I found this."
There were two people in the photograph, standing against each other with interlocked hands. A woman stood on the right side, donned in a marvellous blue cloak that glimmered in the light. And next to her, a man dressed in a striking shade of red stood proudly, his gloved hands firm upon his hips. Unfortunately, their heads and shoulders were gone entirely from the photo due to the way the photograph had been burnt. There was no telling what they looked like. All Apollo could see was their lower halves, red and blue.
"They're a duo that used to perform and travel together, I'm told. Their act was pretty incredible, too!" Dhurke pointed to the man in red, tapping the image twice. But then he pulled his hand away again, a sad look crossing his face. "That one there on the left… is your father. And the one next to her is your mother."
Now, that was interesting. Apollo knew next to nothing of his parents, except that his father died in a fire when Apollo was just a baby. The photo didn't reveal much else, though. The burn marks had claimed the entirety of the upper halves of their bodies, including their faces, leaving only their torsos and legs unscathed.
But still, to even have this much—to have even a sliver of his parents, after so long—Apollo wasn't ashamed to admit that he started crying right then and there.
"Aw. Come here, son." Dhurke didn't wait for Apollo to finish nodding. He pulled Apollo into his chest, holding him tightly and rubbing circles along his back. "I know this day must hurt for you, son. To not even know the names of your parents… I can't imagine what that's like. But I hope this photo gives you a little bit of reprieve."
"Oh god, Dhurke, I—" Apollo sniffed, wiping his shirt sleeve along his face to dry the oncoming tears. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
"Let's put it on a shrine today, okay?" Dhurke smiled, bending his knees to meet Apollo's gaze. "I've got photos of my family, too. We'll put them together."
"I—I'd like that."