Author Notes: This nonsense owes its existence to Raven2785's suggestion in another thread. Blame him for what follows.
Part 1 of 2 [Here]
Part 2 of 2
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Anti-Bono
I opened the courtroom doors, inhaling the sweet scents of polished wood and fear.
Papers shuffled. The judge shifted in his seat, which creaked. A spectator coughed. It was that young reporter again; the one who always railed about corruption and judicial favoritism. So much moral outrage. Anguish. Poor, poor Mr. Velvet.
I straightened my cuffs, and savored the Dormeuil fabric’s texture against my fingertips. I’d chosen a dark red tie for the occasion. An apt choice for the bloodletting that would follow.
I spared a nod to the bench. Judge Archibald nodded back. His powdered wig sank a little forward as he did so. I’d never quite understood why he chose to dress like that. Extreme traditionalism, perhaps. That would certainly explain his numerous attempts to reintroduce public flogging…if only the killjoys on the Second Circuit would stop overruling him.
Never mind. Traditionalism worked rather well in this case.
I glanced at my client.
Tokiomi smiled back at me. It was a tense smile, narrow and nervous. As usual, he’d dressed like a cross between a leisure suit aficionado and a Southern planter. He wore his burgundy-colored velvet suit and a black string necktie. His goatee betrayed its fifteen minutes of daily trimming.
“Kirei,” Tokiomi said. “You’re—Oh, thank the Roo-“
“Not another word. Seriously.”
I hadn’t charged him a penny. It had been a major concession on my part. While I didn’t need the money, watching Tokiomi squirm to the soles of his miserly feet would have been delectable. But not this time. Alas. No, I had a bigger fish to fry. This case would be its own reward.
Across the aisle, Kiritsugu stared me down with those dead-looking eyes. Cold and black. I felt the slightest spark of pleasure when I saw the clammy skin, stubble, and heavy bags under Kiritsugu’s eyes. Years of defense work followed by evening pro-bono for low-income clients had taken its toll.
He patted a pale, decaying-looking man next to him on the shoulder. I knew the man well: Kariya Matou. Kiritsugu’s newest charity case – err, client. Disease had already leached the pigment from his hair.
“Good morning, Mr. Emiya,” I said.
Kiritsugu scowled.
I could even see Kiritsugu’s brood in the back row – the red-headed boy and the albino. The boy sat upright. Patient. Quiet. The girl poked him every time he looked away. But he wouldn’t take his eyes off his father. Oh, no. Mustn’t miss a second of Papa’s triumph.
Heh.
Heheheh.
Mmmh….
Judge Archibald banged his gavel, and gave another periwigged nod. He stood. We rose with him. I could taste it now – the sweet tang of approaching battle.
“Mr. Emiya?" Judge Archibald said.
Kiritsugu Emiya cleared his throat. Oh, by all means…go ahead. Dance for me, Emiya.
“Your Honor,” he said. “I have already admitted Zouken Matou’s will into evidence. The Matou Estate, including the land boundary that Mr. Tohsaka incorrectly claims passed directly to—“
“Au contraire, Mr. Emiya,” I said. “Zouken purchased that land in the eighteenth century. By any reasonable definition of ‘life’, Mr. Matou has been a walking corpse for at least a hundred years. Willing the land to Kariya might raise issues under the Rule Against Perpetuities—“
“Tokiomi wouldn’t have a claim either!”
I fought down the giddy flutter in my stomach, and its corresponding urge to cackle.
“Nonsense,” I said. “Tokiomi’s family – none of whom, incidentally, are undead worm-people –“
“Your Honor,” Kiritsugu said. “I object to opposing counsel’s characterization of appendageless-Americans.”
“Overruled,” Kayneth sniffed. “In my day, we didn’t give civil liberties to those sorts of…people.”
I smiled up at the judge.
“Precisely, your Honor,” I said. “Where was I?”
“Worm people.”
I drank in the sight of Kiritsugu’s tightening fists and clenched jaw. It was like sipping fine wine.
“Ah, yes,” I said. “Worm people. In any event, Tokiomi Tohsaka’s family used the disputed land for recreational purposes since the first Heaven’s Feel. As His Honor is surely aware, such continuous, open, and notorious use of the property – when combined with other factors you’ll see in my brief –“
Kiritsugu’s chair squealed as he pushed it out to stand.
“My client has been suffering from a debilitating disease!” Kiritsugu shouted. “How does the Court expect him to pay attention to running his estate when he’s in that condition? For the love of…he’s being eaten alive!”
Kayneth frowned.
“Sit down, Mr. Emiya.”
Kiritsugu sat. He glared daggers across the aisle.
Kayneth turned to me with a sigh.
“Mr. Kotomine,” Kayneth said. “Your brief is noted. Unfortunately, certain other factors mentioned in Mr. Emiya’s brief – which certainly do not include the natural outcomes of Kariya Matou’s own irresponsible life choices -- have forced me to reluctantly incline toward his arguments. Very reluctantly. If you have anything else…”
Judge Archibald’s expression looked uncannily similar to Rin’s during the holiday season -- every year, hoping against hope that I hadn’t convinced Tokiomi to buy her more school notebooks for Christmas.
“I do, Your Honor,” I said.
“Go on.”
I nodded to Tokiomi. He opened his suitcase with pair of clicks, and withdrew a white glove and a piece of parchment. With the smooth poise of an actor, he strode up to Kariya Matou and presented him with the tokens.
Kiritsugu snatched the parchment. As he read it, his brows furrowed.
“Ahem…” I said. “As the Court is doubtless aware, the English common law recognized trial by combat in land disputes.”
“What?!” Kiritsugu said.
“Now, my opponent will probably try to argue that the Wager of Battle was abolished,” I said. “And it was. In Britain. But that wasn’t until Ashford v. Thornton in 1819 – long after the American colonies separated. And since the Constitution retained all rights traditionally enjoyed by British subjects…”
I let the words linger in the air. Kiritsugu’s mouth hung open. Kariya Matou’s shoulders sagged. He went into another fit of coughing up blood. Oh, how I wished it could last forever.
“…my client, Tokiomi Tohsaka, demands his Constitutional right to trial by battle,” I finished.
Judge Archibald’s eyes had widened into miniature bowling balls. He was practically drooling.
“Granted,” he said.
“That…that’s ridiculous!” Kiritsugu shouted.
“That, Mr. Emiya,” I said with a grin, “is the law.”
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Originally Posted by Mcjon01
