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There’s always an odd feeling that comes with stepping into the office that had once been Mia’s after two years abroad. Nick’s daughter and subordinates have obviously made their mark on the place, their things strewn everywhere and the furniture clearly having been rearranged to accommodate them, and at times she feels like she’s a stranger in this cozy agency Nick’s built for himself – but her key slides into the lock just as easily as it did years ago, her sister’s beloved plant still sits in the corner, and the familiar smell of coffee and noodles still lingers in the air.
Nick looks up from the couch when she opens the door, looking surprised to see her. “…Maya,” he says, blinking. Ha, if he thought he could keep something this big from her, he has another thing coming.
“Athena called me,” she says by way of explanation, setting down her bag on the coffee table. She looks around. The apartment is empty save for the two of them, and the only light open is the one in the living room, leaving sunset to stream into the kitchen and the bathroom through the blinds. “Trucy is in Nine-Tails Vale, with the Tenmas,” she adds. “Athena’s gone over there to talk some sense into her. I sent Pearly over there too, just to be sure!”
“…You didn’t have to,” he says slowly. “It’s late. The trains will stop soon,” he adds, as if there isn’t a spare room she’s always welcome to use, and as if the Tenmas don’t have a giant manor Pearl and Trucy can stay in.
Still, Nick being this downcast and sad is unsettling, a far cry from the put-upon yet optimistic young man she had known first, or the self-assured and cryptic man he’d had to grow into later, so she moves to sit next to him on the couch. “Nick–”
“Maya,” Phoenix interjects. “I fucked up.”
“Oh, no,” she says reflexively, scooting closer. “I’m sure it’s just–”
“My own daughter couldn’t even look me in the eye, Maya,” he says, voice deadly calm and stare vacant. “And Apollo– he booked himself the next flight out of the country.”
The sight of it breaks her heart. “Where’s Thalassa?”
He shrugs. “Left. I dunno. She said she’d call me.”
“That bad, huh.” She places a hand on his shoulder, gentle, and winces when he flinches.
“I thought I was doing the right thing, keeping it a secret.” He’s smiling sardonically in a way she hasn’t seen in years, not since the time he spent disbarred, and it’s awful. “But then – that sounds dumb, in hindsight. When did keeping secrets ever help any of us?”
Maya’s blood runs cold, and she feels the gap between them widening, like a ravine she can’t get across. Nine years ago, Nick had worn his heart on his sleeve, lived and breathed honesty, and would have had it in him to fix this situation with a quick smile and an affectionate gesture.
But –
Seven years. Seven years he was disbarred, and she wasn’t by his side for most of it. He’s spent all that time getting by through half-truths and lies by omission and shrewd glances across the table, had plotted for a long time to bring a bitter enemy down, and had gotten used to twisting words for his own benefit without really stopping. Maybe Nick, aged 26, would believe that, but a long time has passed since Hazakura Temple, and every other conversation Phoenix Wright, aged 35, has with Mr. Edgeworth is loaded. Even Maya knows she hides things from him, the guilt at Apollo’s downcast face on the defense bench rushing back to her.
But – he’s still Nick, Mia’s beloved protégé and Maya’s best friend, her person, and he’s not going to tough this one out alone. So she sits next to him, inhales loudly, twiddles her thumbs for a bit, before finally speaking.
“Did you know,” she says gently, “That after the Hazakura trial, I ran into Mr. Edgeworth downtown?”
Nick tenses visibly, his face turning to look at her. His eyebrows are furrowed in concern, like they always are when Hazakura is alluded to, and her heart swells with affection. “Really? He never told me about that. Neither did you.” His tone isn’t accusatory, though, and is instead pure honest curiosity, and it makes her smile despite herself.
She shakes her head. “It never came up.” She waves her hand – he doesn’t need to know that Mr. Edgeworth has her sworn to secrecy that it was on her way out of the Hall of Heroes Convention. “Anyway, it was the first time I’d seen him since, so we got to talking about my family. He told me he was there when my mom channeled his dad, all those years ago. After DL-6. And he wanted to apologize, because if his dad hadn’t implicated the wrong person, then maybe–” Maya’s voice shrinks, the memory resurfacing. “My mom wouldn’t have left, and then she wouldn’t have–” She trails off, letting the memories do the talking – her mother, tall and regal even as she’d claimed she was a mere author, the harsh glint of Ami Fey’s statue, a red visor glowing in the dark. Before she knows it her fingers are digging half-moons in her palms, and she feels helpless and out of her depth, eleven years past her mother’s death and she still can’t get over it, and –
“Maya.” His tone is rebuking, and the sight of his concerned face helps calm her down. “None of that was either of your faults.” Whatever’s on her face doesn’t seem to placate him, and he makes a thoughtful noise. “What else happened?”
“I offered to channel his dad,” she admits. “I don’t even know why. I guess it felt timely. I wasn’t even sure I could do it – I mean, I’m sure I could do it now, but back then?” She laughs. “Not a shot in hell. But he said, all British-like–” She puts on her best Miles Edgeworth impression, deep voice and accent and all, the memory striking and clear as day. “–I think I’ve grown up enough to move past it. I value my father and what he’s taught me, but I’ve been trying to forge my own path. And then he took me out for burgers, and – did you know he’s got the limited Pink Princess 2028 DVD releases?”
Nick’s face rearranges itself into fond exasperation. “I’m not surprised, really. But – where are you going with this story?”
She grins at him. “The point, Nick, is that Mr. Edgeworth and I – we both lost parents because of DL-6. Maybe we all coped with it in different ways. But what we agreed on was that although we were supposed to have moved past it, we would have given anything to get our parents back. Me, even now.” She huffs, crossing her arms. “When I realized, at Hazakura, that Elise was Mom, even as I was mad at her for leaving, I wished that I had all those years without her back. But more than that, I wished for more years with her after all of it was over – her coming back, running the village, training me and Pearl, being a mom.” She tucks a strand of long hair behind her ear. “If Thalassa approached you, I think she’s ready to want the same.”
“I’ve been agreeing with what Thalassa wanted this entire time,” Nick says, looking unconvinced. “But Apollo and Trucy–”
“Are doing their own thing, Nick, and that’s fine,” she interrupts. “I’m sure Thalassa knew that, too. But I’m sure there’s a part of them that’s grateful for – for the chance to be with their mom, for the chance to be with each other as brother and sister, even if it’s a bit too late.” She smiles at him. “They’re processing it right now, but sooner or later, they’ll realize that.”
Nick scoffs. “But they won’t understand, Maya – why so long? What if they don’t–”
He doesn’t finish the sentence, but Maya knows what he’s asking. What if they don’t come back? Trucy is seventeen, capable of legal emancipation, and Apollo has all the means to say in Khura’in if he wished it.
But – Nick is good. Nick has done so much good, even if he didn’t wasn’t always scrupulous about it.
“Trucy’s your daughter, and Apollo looks at you like you hung the moon,” she points out. “You’ve done so much for them, like you’ve done so much for me and Pearly. They might not forgive you right away, but they will.”
The furrow doesn’t leave his eyebrows. “And will they ever forgive Thalassa?”
That’s the question, isn’t it? Whether they forgive him or not, Nick will blame himself if their relationship with their mother doesn’t go well. It’s always been one of his best and worst traits, taking on everyone’s emotional pains and trying to make them – better, at the cost of beating himself up if it went wrong.
So she takes his hand. “No offense, Nick,” she murmurs, twining her fingers with his. “But that’s not really your relationship to try and fix anymore, at this point. You did what you could, and whatever comes after – that’s on them, now. And you raised them pretty well – they’re both great kids, you dad. I’m sure they’ll choose fine.”
“You’re only…what, four years older than Apollo, Maya,” he says, but he’s smiling.
“Shh! That’s not important.” She knocks her shoulder against his. “You’ll get through this. We’ll get through this.”
He looks down at her fondly, and her heart warms. “Thanks, Maya.” His lips twitch. “When did you get so smart?”
She beams. “Well,” she says, tucking herself into his side and smiling at how he instinctively shifts to accommodate her. “I learned from the best.”
He hums, and she feels the vibrations down to her bones. “I missed you when you were gone.”
“Well,” she murmurs. “I’m back now.” She leans her head on his shoulder, and isn’t quite sure how long they stay like that afterwards.
Mystic Maya once said it took Pearl a whole week to break after Hazakura. She hadn’t said it in the fond way she usually uses when talking to Pearl, but with poorly-disguised worry and concern. At the time, Pearl hadn’t understood why – she had worked through her emotions and had been of use to Mr. Nick and the others in the end, after all.
Over a decade later, and she recognizes it for what it was – shock, grief, and anger, all held back by fear and adrenaline until time had burst the dam. Now, she’s always telling herself to be more like Mystic Maya, who wears her heart on her sleeve. Her mother would narrow her eyes at Mystic Maya’s blatant emotions, believing them improper, but Pearl thinks she’s stronger for it.
Mr. Nick used to be the same – earnest, cheerful, easy to read. But a lot has happened since Hazakura Temple, and Pearl can’t read his kind half-smiles so well anymore.
It’s herself in the aftermath of Hazakura that Pearl thinks of now, looking through the doorway of the Tenmas’ guest room, and seeing Trucy staring straight ahead, eerily quiet.
“Oh, Pearl…I’ve never seen her like this. I tried to talk to her about it, but I think I just made it worse.” Athena looks heartbroken, and Pearl knows how that feels – to try to use your gift for someone else’s benefit, only to have it go wrong.
Pearl’s never seen Trucy like this, either – Trucy was always brighter, bubblier, emotional where Pearl was restrained, loud when she was quiet, especially in their childhood. If Pearl had a concern, Trucy was always the one voicing it out. And now Pearl has all these emotions inside of her, worry and fear and sadness bubbling up and threatening to overflow, while Trucy is silent in front of her.
“What do you hear, Athena?” she asks, soft enough that she thinks Trucy won’t hear.
“Sadness, mostly,” the older girl had told her in the doorway, watching Jinxie soothingly comb back the hair from Trucy’s forehead. “But…there’s a bit of joy, too, buried underneath all of it.”
Pearl can work with some joy.
“Hey, Truce,” she tries, and winces. Maybe the nickname sounds too much like what Mr. Nick and Apollo call her? But Trucy moves her head to look at her, and that’s progress. “Are you doing okay?”
“No,” Trucy murmurs. “I-I’m not fine.”
Athena makes a noise. Pearl frowns. “Do you want to be left alone for a bit, Trucy?”
Her childhood friend shakes her head. “N-no,” she says. “You guys being here – it makes it better. Thank you.” She shoots the three of them an appreciative look.
“Makes what better, Trucy?” Jinxie interjects softly.
“Is it Mr. Nick?” Pearl adds. “Or is it Miss Thalassa?”
Trucy is quiet for so long Pearl almost regrets talking. “It’s both, she sniffles, before her arms are around Pearl, and she’s hugging Pearl tightly. “I got so used to thinking of Zak as a bad person,” Trucy admits quietly. “And I got used to Mom not being there. Daddy, he – he filled in for them in all the ways that mattered, and–” and then Trucy’s crying, tears bleeding into Pearl’s robes, her body shaking in Pearl’s arms. “I’m so happy my Mom is alive, and I’m so happy that Polly – Polly’s my brother! That should be the best news I’ve ever gotten!” She sniffles. “I don’t know why…I just don’t know why they kept it from us, on purpose! Daddy – that’s not what parents should do!”
Pearl remembers, very viscerally, the moment it had all sunk in – Mr. Godot in handcuffs, her sister crying on the stand, Mystic Maya fainting dead away, how very, very tired Mr. Nick and Mr. Edgeworth had looked afterwards. Her mother had used her, she’d finally realized, to get revenge on the main family, and now Mystic Maya’s mother was dead, because of Pearl and her mother and sisters. She had cried for a very long time, and Mystic Maya hadn’t been able to do anything except hold her tightly through it all.
And Trucy – she’s been through a lot, too. Mr. Nick alludes that much. If Trucy can have her family around her, happy and loving like a family should be, then she should have that chance, too.
Pearl clears her throat. “I don’t remember my dad, and my mom got locked away when I was nine,” she admits. “Growing up, Mystic Maya and Mr. Nick were like my mom and dad. Mystic Maya used to say that my mom really loved me, but what she thought was best for me just wasn’t right.” She can’t help the hitch in her voice at the memory, of Dahlia, back from the dead, of the prison cell serial number Pearl knows by heart but has never been to, of the temple neither she or Maya have the courage to return to, even as Iris remains there. Trucy appears to sense it too, her arms tightening around Pearl’s body. “Sometimes, parents make mistakes, but they’re supposed to love you. It’s supposed to be because they wanted what’s best for you. I’m sure that’s what Mr. Wright and Miss Thalassa were thinking of, even if they were wrong.”
Athena is watching them, something going soft in her eyes. She comes over to sit on Trucy’s other side. “And sometimes,” she says, very gently, “Parents stay away because they think it’s best, but they don’t realize that you need them. That doesn’t make it right, but you should still treasure the time you’ve got with them. It doesn’t have to be now or tomorrow or next week, but…you still have to make it count, Trucy.”
“Athena’s right,” Jinxie says, from the chair. She’s watching them almost nervously. “Y-you’re allowed to be sad, but…that lady, and the demon guy…they’re still your family, even if you found out a bit late. You should talk to them, Trucy!”
Pearl feels Trucy grin into her shoulder. “Polly’s no demon,” she says, laughing even as she wipes her eyes. She sits up straight. “He’s the best.”
Pearl has to smile at that. “There you go.”
“Now, what would your brother want you to say in this situation?” Athena says, cheery demeanor back.
Trucy gives her a watery smile. “I-I’m Trucy Wright, a-and I’m fine!”
“With more conviction!” Jinxie cries.
“I-I’m Trucy Wright, and I’m fine!” Trucy yells, and Athena laughs and hugs her. Pearl giggles too, taking Trucy’s hand in hers and squeezing.
Her mother and sisters are in the past. Pearl has all the family she needs, too.
He picks up on the fourth ring. “Hey, Apollo.”
“Athena.” There’s a note of suspicion in his voice. “Are you with Mr. Wright? I’m still not talking to him.”
As much as the coldness in his voice makes her heart sink, she glances next to her to see Trucy’s expectant, wide-eyed gaze. “It’s not that,” she says. “It’s…it’s your sister.”
Apollo pauses on the other end long enough to make Athena hesitant, and she shoves the phone at Trucy before he can hang up.
“P-polly?” Trucy says into the phone, her voice wavering by just the tiniest, most imperceptible bit.
There’s a very long pause, long enough that it gets awkward, before she hears the crackle of Apollo’s voice from where she’s sitting. “Hey, Truce.”
Trucy plays with a strand of her hair. “H-how was the flight? Did you get to Khura’in all right?”
There’s another long pause before Apollo answers – something about being seated next to the world’s worst baby on the plane, and Trucy giggles, bright and honest. She tells him about the girls in school, her summer homework, the gig Klavier hooked up for her, and Apollo responds in kind, stories about Khura’in that Trucy will surely tell her later. Right now, watching Trucy speak with her brother on the phone is enough.
It will take time, she knows. Apollo will forgive Mr. Wright before he’ll forgive Thalassa, and she doesn’t know if the three of them will ever properly consider themselves a family.
But then again, the three of them, and Trucy, Pearly, Maya, everyone – somehow, they have each other. Maybe that’s enough for now.