Chapter Text
The first thing Miles saw when he stepped outside was the bright blue flyer left on his doorstep.
It was morning, around ten, on a Tuesday. Miles had work later, but he didn’t have a lot to do—mainly paperwork, as usual. After that, he would be meeting with Kay and Gumshoe again at the coffee shop.
Miles picked up the flyer, adjusting his glasses.
TRUCY WRIGHT PRESENTS:
THE MAGICIAN’S COURTROOM
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 10TH – 8PM—10PM
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 11TH – 8PM—10PM
SUNDAY, OCTOBER 12TH – 2PM—4PM, 8PM—10PM
An unforgettable experience full of magic and thrill!
Wright’s daughter’s magic show. It was sooner than Miles had thought—just next weekend. He’d have to remind himself to buy tickets to one of the showings.
Miles neatly folded the flyer in half and tucked it into his coat pocket as he walked out to the red sports car parked in the driveway.
There was a bit of traffic on the way to the office, so Miles took the extra time to review his schedule.
Assign a prosecutor to the flower shop case (urgent).
Most of the prosecutors were tied up with other cases, if Miles recalled correctly, but both Prosecutor Gavin and Prosecutor Blackquill were free to take the case. He’d decide between them when he got to the office (though a small part of him considered taking on the case himself.)
Paperwork.
An absurd amount of it, but nothing that Miles couldn’t handle. He had finished most of it the night before, anyway. Miles doubted it would take much longer than two hours, maybe three at most.
Coffee with Kay and Detective Gumshoe.
The only part of the day Miles was looking forward to—a nice, happy end to what would be an otherwise dull day.
That infuriating game of chess.
Ah. Miles hadn’t touched the chessboard since he had started that game last night. He wasn’t entire certain why he had bothered to put it on his to-do list—a chess game against an imaginary opponent wasn’t nearly as pressing as his other obligations. Yet…he decided to leave it on the list. He figured it could be somewhat entertaining.
Miles parked his car into the parking lot of the prosecutor’s office. He picked up his briefcase from the passenger seat and stepped out of the car, heading for the building’s door.
Twelve flights of stairs later, Miles made his way down the hallway to his office, only slightly out of breath. After fifteen years of working on this floor, he had gotten used to the climb. At the very least, it was better than taking the elevator.
The sound of voices around a corner stopped Miles. Normally, the twelfth floor was silent around this time, but not today—it seemed that an argument had broken out between two people at the end of the hall.
“You should have been here twenty minutes ago, Cykes-dono.”
“Well, I’m SORRY for being a little LATE, SIMON. I was on a DATE, for your information.”
“Make all the excuses you like, it does nothing. You had promised you would arrive at my office at 10:30am, and it’s—"
“What difference does twenty minutes make?! We still have all day!”
Miles grimaced and turned the corner to see the two people standing at the end of the hallway—a tall, imposing man with his long, white-streaked black hair tied back in a ponytail, and a younger, orange-haired girl, standing angrily with her hands on her hips. The man was dressed in a strange-looking black suit with a long coat, and the girl was wearing a t-shirt in the colors of the lesbian flag with the words “I LIKE GIRLS” printed on it in bold.
“Just what is going on here?” Miles asked irritably.
The man dressed in black—Prosecutor Simon Blackquill—took a step back, startled by Miles’ appearance, and backed directly into the red-haired girl—Athena Cykes, an attorney at Wright’s firm—causing her to lose her balance and fall onto the floor. “WHAT THE HECK, SIMON?!” She yelped, quickly jumping back to her feet and glaring at the prosecutor.
“It was an accident—” “Oh, an ACCIDENT, huh? I’ll—"
“Both of you, please, be quiet.” Miles snapped, silencing the two. “This is the prosecutors’ office, for God’s sake—please take such—such—such bickering elsewhere.”
Blackquill nodded and bowed his head to Miles. “My apologies, Edgeworth-dono.” Athena nodded, fidgeting awkwardly with her hands. “Yeah, sorry, Mr. Edgeworth.”
“You see—” Athena exclaimed.
“Cykes-dono had made a promise to arrive at my office at 10:30 in the morning so that I could offer her sword-fighting lessons—"
“But I had a brunch date with Junie—my girlfriend—at 9:45—"
“Despite her promise to arrive at 10:30 precisely, Cykes-dono was late—"
“By twenty minutes! And I told you, I was with Junie—"
Miles cut in. “You were going to…teach Athena to sword fight…in your office?”
Athena shook her head. “No, we were going to head over the Agency and have the lesson there.”
“The Wright Anything Agency, I presume?” Miles questioned. Athena nodded. “Yeah.”
“Wouldn’t Wright…mind…if you were…swinging swords around in his…office?”
Athena shrugged. “Nah, I doubt it. He lets Trucy practice her magic tricks in there all the time, so what’s the difference?” Miles opened his mouth to object, then decided against it.
Athena crossed her arms. “Besides, it’s not like Mr. Wright would notice anyway. He’s probably too distracted daydreaming about—" Athena’s face flushed, and she clamped a hand over her mouth.
“Pardon?” Miles asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Er—uh—forget I said anything!”
Blackquil crossed his arms, curiosity playing across his face. “No, do go on, Cykes-dono.”
Athena looked away, fidgeting anxiously with the crescent moon-shaped earring on her right ear. “…really, it’s nothing. It was just—something we were…speculating about at the Agency—well—"
Silence filled the hallway as Miles and Blackquill waited for her to continue.
Athena tapped her foot on the floor a few times, still avoiding eye contact. “I..well, I…we…”
“Mr. Wright has a crush on someone!” Athena blurted out, cracking under the pressure.
Miles froze.
“…I’m…sorry?” Miles asked cautiously.
Blackquill’s brow furrowed. “A…crush? Cykes-dono, I thought you knew better than to speculate about the love life of your employer—"
Athena flinched and shook her head frantically. “N—no, it’s not, we weren’t—it’s just…Trucy told me that Mr. Wright mentioned wanting to be…more than a friend…to someone he knows…but he didn’t tell Trucy who he was talking about, and Trucy wasn’t even certain if he was serious or not.”
Miles cleared his throat, feeling, for some inexplicable reason, relieved. “Well, jumping to the conclusion that he has a—a ‘crush’ on someone based on that information alone is hardly—”
“That…that’s not all, though! Trucy and I wanted to test our theory, so I had Trucy ask Mr. Wright about it while I had the Mood Matrix open, and he definitely had a strong emotional response to Trucy bringing it up. A mix of shock, anxiety, and happiness…that’s pretty much how the Matrix portrays crushes. I can’t say for certain that I’m right, but…”
Miles sighed, interrupting her. “I think that’s enough, Miss Cykes. You two really should get on with your…lesson, considering you were running late.”
Athena winced and nodded. “Y—yeah, you’re right…c’mon, Simon.”
Athena jogged down the hallway, and Blackquill followed her. “Don’t forget the swords!” Simon called out. “How could I forget the swords?!” Athena shouted back.
Miles sighed, leaning against the wall. Well…he supposed Prosecutor Blackquill would be too busy to take the flower shop case. He vaguely wondered who would pay for the inevitable property damage caused by the sword training in Wright’s office.
Wright…
So, Wright had a “crush” on someone. Or at least, that’s what Athena and Trucy speculated. Miles was somewhat surprised—in all the time Miles had known Wright, Wright had never mentioned having feelings for anyone. Sure, Miles knew Wright had been in a relationship in college—with that vile woman, Dahlia Hawthorne—but as far as Miles remembered, Wright hadn’t been involved with anyone since.
Then again…it’s not like Wright told Miles everything. Of course, Wright wouldn’t keep Miles up to date on every tiny detail of his love life—that’d be ridiculous.
Why…why was this bothering Miles so much?
Miles numbly opened his office’s door. It probably wasn’t even true, anyway. What had Miss Cykes said about the Mood Matrix’s readings? Shock, anxiety, and happiness…that could mean anything. It was absurd of Miles to get hung up on such a thing, regardless.
What was he meant to do today? That’s right…paperwork, and assigning a prosecutor to the flower shop case…
Miles dialed a number on his phone, and five minutes later, Prosecutor Klavier Gavin had agreed to take the case. Well, that was settled, at least.
Now for the paperwork…if Miles could manage to focus on it. His mind seemed to be wandering far more than it usually did.
He decided to make himself a cup of tea.
Sipping his steaming hot tea, Miles paced aimlessly across his room, casting the occasional glance down at his chessboard. It was exactly as he had left it the other night—one blue pawn moved forward, and one red pawn moved forward.
Miles’ phone rang, startling him. Setting down his tea, he hurried to pick up the phone. “Edgeworth speaking.”
“Heya, Mr. Edgeworth!” Kay’s cheery voice rang through the speaker, causing Miles to flinch slightly.
“What time are you coming to the coffee shop this afternoon?” Kay asked.
Miles checked his watch. “I should be done with work early, so…around 4pm would be fine for me, if that works for you and Gumshoe.”
“That works great! I’m excited! How’s work going?”
Miles hesitated. “It’s…it’s going well. I found a prosecutor to take over the flower shop case, and…” He considered telling Kay about what Miss Cykes had told him, but decided against it.
“And?” Kay echoes.”
“It’s…it’s nothing.”
Kay hesitated. “Well…if you say so.”
“Anyway!” she shouted. “I’ll save a seat for you at the coffee shop!”
“Thank you, Kay.”
“No prob, Mr. Edgeworth! I’m looking forward to it! Besides…”
Miles could practically hear her smirk through the phone as she continued. “Yknow…Mr. Wright might be there again…”
Miles sighed in exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Kay, I’ve already told you, I don’t—there isn’t—there’s nothing…whether Wright will be there or not is unimportant.”
“Suuuuuuuuure. Gotcha. I’ll see ya there!”
“Kay, wh—what do you mean by—”
“Bye, Mr. Edgeworth!”
Kay hung up, and Miles groaned. What was with that girl and her obsession with…never mind.
Miles turned back to the chessboard, assuring himself that Kay would get bored of this at some point and give up.
Hesitating, Miles stared down at the blue chess pieces. What move would be best? The game had just started…it was hard to foresee the outcomes of each potential move at this point.
Miles picked up a blue knight and moved it forward.
He was unsure what move red should make next.