Hello. First off, I would like to say that this is my first ever actual fanfiction and I would like you to give constructive criticism if you could, thank you.

Now, a disclaimer before you read:

-This story is rated PG-13 for mentioning large amounts of blood.
-This story takes place 5 years after 3-5.
-There will be spoilers for all games. I don't know which cases specifically because some later chapters may or may not touch upon them.
-There are a total of two planned original characters for this fanfiction: My OC, Hakuro de Killer, and an OC made just for this fanfic, Jennifer Corrida.
-There is an RP in the courtroom section of the forums by the same name. Yes, this is a kind of retelling of that same trial, but with canon characters instead of OCs.

Now, with that out of the way, here are the first two chapters of my work:

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CHAPTER 1: Assassination of the Assassin.

"In further news, police are still tracking down this new serial killer calling himself 'Hakuro de Killer'. So far he has left no trace of his crimes save for a single card with a dewdrop-shaped symbol on the card. Whether these crimes are related to the supposedly retired assassin Shelly de Killer is yet unknown. More on this story at Eleven."

Click. The television turned off and the room was left in silence. The room was a nicely decorated 5-star hotel room, the walls draped in warm goldenrod and the floors in deep crimson. Paintings hung on the wall depicting soothing landscapes of the countryside. In a earthly-toned mahogany recliner, an old man, clearly at least sixty years of age, stands up from his comfortable stasis. The man looked quite average for a wealthy man from the neck down. Sporting a luscious orange bathrobe and slippers with an insignia on them depicting the title "Gatewater Hotel" on them. His face was one that was quite unforgettable if you see it even once. the left and right sides of his head were cleanly cut and light brown with traces of gray while the center of his head sprouted almost a very short, tame mohawk of white hair stretching from his forehead to the back of his neck, clearly grown a good six inches longer then the rest of his hair. However, the most distinguishing feature about him was the fact that he had a noticeable scar that extended straight from the top of his head to the bottom of his chin in a very similar fashion and manner as what one would find on a baseball.

The man was a little unsteady in his older age as much of his strength and ability has disappeared in the past six years. In his second attempt to rise in his chair after feebly falling back into the chair, the dim lights flickered a bit as a figure approached the old man with an outstretched hand. The old man sees it and, a slight irritated look on his face, grabs his hand and pulls himself out of the chair. "Why must you treat me like a child?" the old man asked the figure, a little embarassed. The figure then got more into view. It was a much younger man of twenty-four with an air of kindness about him. He was wearing a white tuxedo-like suit complete with a black undershirt and a pair of small, rectangular amber-framed spectacles with green-tinted lenses.

"Well, if you choose to let yourself be weakened like this, then I must do what I have to do," the younger man smiled. The older man sighed and grabbed an iron cane from the side of the recliner he was just sitting in. Using his cane as a support, the old man moved from his recliner to the dining table in the center. The younger man picked up the receiver of a pearl-white telephone on a stand in between two single-wide beds and pressed the "0" key after hearing the dialtone. The phone rang and someone picked up.

"Room Service, how can we help you?" the voice over the phone answered. The young man then responded, "Yes, I was wondering if the two dinners for room 91 have been prepared yet..." There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before replying cheerfully, "Ah, you must be Mr. Smith! Yes, your dinners are ready and waiting for your personal pick-up as you requested, sir!" Mr. Smith smiled, which seemed to reflect in his tone, "Very good. I will be down straight away to pick it up, thank you very much." Click. Mr. Smith placed the receiver gently back down on the base and made his way casually towards the door. He turned to face the older man, "I am going to grab our dinners. I should be back in about ten minutes..."

The old man looked up with a cup of coffee in his hand, "Very well. I will be waiting..."

Mr. Smith left the room and locked the door with the hotel key as he made his way to the elevator leading to the lobby. After a minute or so, it made its way to the lobby and Mr. Smith made his way to the kitchen. There were several cooks on-staff, at least twenty or so working busily. There was a lot of shouting coming from one person dressed slightly different than the others, who then turned around to face Mr. Smith. "'Ey! Youse must be Mr. Smith! Yoah food is right theah on the counter, jus' like you wanted it!" This guy must be the head chef, but it's odd that his skin color was beet red, almost completely unnatural. He thanked the head chef with a slight bow of the head and grabbed the tray. it has two plates on it, both covered and the tray itself was silver and seemed to be made by an impressive artisan due to the complex designs on the rim of the tray.

The young man then left the kitchen and proceeded to take the elevator back to the room, taking close to ten minutes, as he said. He left the elevator to see that the door was unlocked. Mr. Smith had a very bad feeling and burst inside the room.

Blood...

There was blood all over the place coming from...

It couldn't be...

Mr. Smith ran into the bedroom to find the old man dead in a pool of his own blood. Mr. Smith, for the first time in his entire life, had his calm and collected composure completely shattered. It was hard to bear that he could have been murdered so easily. However, he had no time to grieve. He had to start packing and hiding anything that could expose them both. He had just packed and hid away a single suitcase and ran to pack up a second when...

"Hold it, Whippersnapper!!" heard Mr. Smith as he turned his head. He saw an old woman dressed as if she had just gotten back from a shooting of a 'Twilight Zone' episode remake and quickly reached for the pistol to put it away before she could see it. Mistaking this motion as a means to kill her, the old woman darted towards a completely off-guard Mr. Smith, kicked the pistol away, and subdued him with all her strength. After handcuffing him and getting a firm hold of him, the old lady reached for her walkie-talkie. "Home base, this is Oldbag! I caught a whippersnapper at the scene of a murder! Call the police now!!"

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Chapter Two: Defending the Mysterious Mr. Smith

"Wake up, you got visitors!" shouted a rather loud man with an unnecessary megaphone. Mr. Smith shot up with a start before rubbing his eyes. He looked at the guard who stand before him. He was rather eccentric with a sense of duty depicted in his uniform and a sense of simplicity on his face. Mr. Smith, looking rather ragged after the night before tries to look even the slightest bit better. Shortly after, he made his way, without a fight, towards the visitor's room where he was greeted by a slightly older man dressed in a black and white striped vest over a silk green undershirt wearing an absurd-looking mask. Behind him was a woman about his age dressed in a nun's outfit and rather beautiful in her own right.

The man in green had a cup of coffee laid on the counter and was seated. He was about to take a sip when he introduced himself, "My name is Diego Armando and this is my assistant, Iris. We've come here today to defend you in your current predicament." Iris shyly nodded and replied, "Pleased to meet you, sir..."

Mr. Smith nodded to both of them, "So. You both plan to defend me in court, yes? Very good, thank you very much. I didn't kill my client, I assure you both." Diego smiled and dook a sip of his coffee, "Your client being Mr. John Doe? Well then. If you didn't kill him, who did?" Quickly, Mr. Smith answered, "I don't know and I intend to find out as the events unfold..."

Diego and Iris both stood up, "Thank you for your time. Unfortunately, your trial starts in one hour so I cannot question you any further. See you in the courtroom, Mr. Smith."

Diego and Iris left the detention center in a pitch-black sedan and drove off. Shortly after, Mr. Smith was escorted to the courtroom, where he was placed in the prosecutor's lobby. Standing there were a bunch of guys in formal suits awaiting trial except one rather loudmouthed kid of about seventeen years old dressed in a completely white samurai outfit with a kendo sword and a baseball cap...!? This didn't bode well for him as the kid was heading right this way, "You're that John Smith guy, right!? Okay, here's the deal! You're going to testify for us or you're going to be put away for life! Got it!?" Mr. Smith was adamant, "Here's the thing, Mr. Samurai Prosecutor. I will testify the way I choose when Iam placed on the stand. It may help or hurt your case, but that's your problem, then. Do not threaten me again," Mr. Smith stared at the prosecutor with a killing intent, forcing the child to back away a bit. The prosecutor stuck his tongue out at Mr. Smith and entered the courtroom. Shortly after, Diego enteres to lead his client into the courtroom.

Diego and Iris stood at the defense's bench while Mr. Smith looked on, seated next to Iris. On the opposite side of the room, that child prosecutor stood awaiting the appearance of the judge. Soon after, a door opened and the baliff shouted, "All rise for the Judge!" Everyone in the stands as well as Mr. Smith stood up. An very old, balding man with a long beard wearing long black judge's vestments made his way to the podium.

The judge sat down and cleared his throat before speaking, "You may be seated. Court is in session for the trial of a Mr. Jonothan Smith for the murder of a Mr. John Doe. Is the defense ready?" Diego smirked, "Haa...! he defense is ready to teach this child a lesson before my seventeenth cup!" The judge seemed a little surprised, "Mr... Godot, was it?" Everyone except Iris and Diego was confused when the judge mentioned this. Diego sipped his coffee, "Godot was just a codename from a long time ago, your honor. My real name is Diego Armando. Refer to someone by their real name when you learn it. That's my rule." The judge was still confused, "But weren't you convicted for the murder of a Miss Elise Deauxnim? How is it that you managed to be present in this courtroom today?"

Godot smirked again, "Ha...! I made a plea bargain with the prosecution and got out a few months ago. Also, as I was still considered legally dead until after my sentencing, I managed to retain my Attorney's Badge and privaleges. Unfortunately, Mr. Phoenix Wright wasn't so lucky, or so I read..." The judge nodded, "Then it is settled. Anyway, is the prosecution ready?"

The lights mysteriously went dark and poppers suddenly went off. "What in blazes!? Baliff, where are they shooting from!?" the judge excalimed, obviously in a panic. There were a couple spotlights shooting towards the prosecutor with a backdrop behind him painted as if it were used in a film with the words "Guilty Samurai" written in bold, dynamic letters over his head on the backdrop, "Where there is an evildoer, I will declare him guilty for i am... the Guilty Samurai!"

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Please let me know what you think so far and I will use your advice for subsequent chapters of the story.

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You have an interesting start here. I'm quite happy to see Iris in the story although I'm a little confused about why she would be working as Diego/Godot's assistant. Hopefully that'll get more of an explanation. One thing I feel I need to point out is a slight inaccuracy in the story. In 3-5, Godot states that his poisoning was never recorded as a murder. He was merely in a very deep sleep, but as long as that was true, he would not have been declared legally dead because he wasn't. I do find the whole thing with Diego being able to retain his badge after all he did a little hard to buy, but there are certainly more far-fetched occurrences in even the games so I'll suspend disbelief for the sake of the story. There are a few spelling and grammar mistakes, but I won't focus on those unless asked. Otherwise, nice work! I'll keep an eye on this story to see how it develops.

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Th-the Guilty Samurai? OH MY GAWD! XD This is awesome so far, keep going!

*snorts* guilty samurai... oh man...

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Very nice work so far Mr. Hakuro. I'm confused about Iris being the assistant, the prosecutor and the bit when Diego says, "Your client is Mr. John Doe" or something.

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EDIT: I'm really sorry... I'll use a spoiler tag...

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