Chapter Text
June 12th, 3:45 PM
District Court
Courthouse Washroom No. 4
“Phew…”
Time to drop that smile.
Mia Fey leaned against the stall of the courthouse washroom, feeling suddenly exhausted. The final trial of her most recent case had only just ended, and the adrenaline was quickly fading from her system.
There was no reason to feel so worn out, she thought, resting her head against the cool plastic wall of the stall. She’d won, after all. It hadn’t been an easy battle, but she’d managed to catch a certain, vital contradiction in a witness’s testimony at the very last second. Now, she’d bid goodbye to her defendant, and she was free to go back to the office and tie up any legal loose-ends…
But something compelled her to sit here, in the courthouse washroom, and have a long hard think about things.
It had been six years since she’d left Kurain Village for good; six years since she’d come to the city to become a defence attorney. Yet the quest she’d embarked upon those six years ago remained incomplete.
It wasn’t that she thought it would be easy. It was obvious from the beginning that discovering the person behind her mother’s disappearance would be no simple task. She had nothing to go on, after all. Nothing except the knowledge that someone, someone who knew them, had leaked the information that had spurred her mother’s departure to the police.
Mia had spent the last six years looking into her family and friends, using tact and wit and subterfuge to try and drag the truth out of them… but she’d come up empty-handed. Not one of her targets knew a single thing about what had happened that fateful day. And after six years, a complete lack of progress started to grate on one terribly.
Mia heaved a great sigh and pushed open the stall door. She walked slowly to the sinks and washed her hands languidly, still lost in thought.
( ‘It’s times like these that you really feel like a failure, huh,’ ) she thought, oblivious to how much soap she was squeezing out of the dispenser, ( ‘You’ve just won a case, and yet you’re no closer to your goal than you were when you left home back then.’ )
Mia went to dry her hands, then adjusted her collar a little. The magatama on her chest gleamed pale blue under the fluorescent washroom lights. She’d used it on so many people recently that it was due for a recharge. She wondered, absentmindedly, if she had enough spiritual power to get the job done.
Upon exiting the washroom, Mia made to head to the parking lot, where her bike was. Unfortunately, there was someone standing in the middle of the lobby, looking this way and that. Someone who, upon seeing her, started forwards with a hopeful glint in his eyes.
“M-Ms. Fey!”
Mia jumped, slightly, turning to the source of the voice. She stopped, peering uncertainly at the stranger. Did she know him..? Yes… Actually, there was something very familiar about his features.
“Ah..? May I help you?”
The man stopped, just in front of her, a look of trepidation on his familiar face. He was dressed in shabby blue jeans and an even shabbier grey hoodie. The hood was pulled up over his head, but something about it was a little strange: namely the odd shape it made at the back of his skull.
As he fumbled over what to say, the man tugged the hood down, revealing a set of jet-black barbs sticking out of his head.
Suddenly, everything came back in a rush.
“You! You’re–– You’re, ahh…”
Mia floundered for a few minutes. The hopeful look that had come into the man’s eyes when she’d cried out quickly faded, and he smiled, sheepishly.
“I-it’s me, Ms. Fey. Phoenix Wright. You remember, right?”
“Yes! Oh–– yes, yes, I do,” said Mia. Good lord, did she ever.
This was Phoenix Wright, the man she’d represented two months ago in court. His trial had been something of a disaster, mainly due to his own intervention. Between the crying, shouting, lying and eating of important (and possibly deadly) evidence, it was a wonder that Mia managed to bring the true culprit to light.
This was definitely that Phoenix Wright. And yet, something seemed a little off about him. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been under the weather, but he hadn’t seemed ill. His nose had been red, and his eyes puffy, and he’d sneezed up a storm, but his enthusiasm and cheeriness had made him seem perfectly healthy.
But the Mr. Wright she gazed upon today was different. He was no longer sporting a flu-mask, and his garish pink sweater was nowhere to be seen. But he gave the impression, Mia mused, of being… ill. Much more so than when he’d actually caught a bug.
He seemed somehow paler, though perhaps that was the fault of the dark circles that ringed his eyes. He was certainly more subdued, no longer shouting or beaming, just sort of shuffling from side to side with an uncertain expression on his face. And his eyes… Though they twinkled with that same sort of energy, there was something missing. Something wanting. Was she imagining it?
“Great! Great,” said Phoenix, an awkward chuckle escaping his throat, “That’s really great! I’m so glad you remember me! That way it’s–– well, it’s a little less awkward…”
He shuffled again, tugging at the hem of his hoodie.
“I’ve been hoping to run into you, Ms. Fey…” he mumbled, “I’ve been hanging around the courthouse in hopes that I’d see you.”
The courthouse lobby suddenly seemed a lot larger, with the exits stretching away into the distance even as Mia nodded her head, nervously.
“Oh..? Er, and why is that?” she asked, carefully.
“Well I… I’ve…” Phoenix frowned, chewing the inside of his lip, “I’ve been meaning to ask… to ask you…”
Mia’s heart skipped a beat.
( ‘Please don’t say ‘out’, please don’t say ‘out’, please don’t say ‘out’!’ )
“I..! I’ve been meaning to ask you if you’d be my mentor!” he shouted, suddenly, startling Mia.
There was the Mr. Wright she knew. He was leaning forwards now, as he often had, so that his eyes were level with hers. His hands were clenched at the base of his torso, the knuckles white and bulging with the pressure of his gesture.
“Be-– Be your mentor?”
“Yes!” cried Phoenix, seeming to gain steam now that he’d gotten himself going, “I know it really seems out of the blue, and you probably don’t remember, but when I first met you I did mention that I was studying Law, as well as the Arts! Well! I’ve dropped the Arts, and now I just really, really wanna study Law!”
“W-why do you want to study Law?” asked Mia, unconsciously taking a few steps back.
“I-–“ Phoenix paused, then straightened up and stepped back, looking contrite, “There’s… somebody I want to help. That’s all.”
“Somebody you want to help..?”
“Yes… and I don’t think I can do it without you, Ms. Fey.”
“W-well… That’s very flattering but… er… why me, specifically?”
Phoenix looked even more upset, an expression of guilt creeping onto his face.
“I… Well, see, you’re different, Ms. Fey.”
“D… Different?”
“Yeah… See, I, I didn’t realize it at the time, but…” Phoenix shuffled some more, unable to meet her eyes, “I got to thinking… after the trial… and I realized, I really gave you a hard time, Ms. Fey.”
Mia blinked. Well yes, he had.
“All I did was yell, and lie, and–– and all sorts of awful things. Even though you were just trying to help me. I-I’m so sorry…”
Mia bit her lip, uncertain as to what to say. Forgive him? Tell him to forget about it? He really did look very torn up about it.
“But–– But that’s exactly why I need you to be the one to teach me! Because–– Because no matter what I did, you never gave up on me!”
He was back to leaning forwards, his big, brown eyes boring into hers, “You never lost hope– you never stopped believing that I was innocent, no matter how–– how stupid I was! And that…”
He pulled away again, averting his eyes shyly once more, “That’s… not something just anyone could do. That’s why I need you–– I need you to tell me how you do it! Cause I… I think, where I’m going, I’m gonna need that kind of strength. I don’t really know what’s in store, but if I can’t face it the way you do, I’ll never…”
He trailed off. There was a small silence. Mia ran her finger nervously around the hem of her scarf.
“Mr. Wright…” she started, slowly, “I’m flattered that you think so highly of me… and I’m glad you’ve been looking critically at your past actions…”
Phoenix winced.
“…But I don’t think I can say yes to your request.”
Phoenix jerked his head upwards, dismay striking his features.
“What?! W-why not?”
“Mr. Wright, I’m a rookie. I only passed the bar a year ago, and I’ve only worked three cases. The truth is that, while I may be a practicing lawyer, I’m still learning. Being your teacher… your mentor– it seems a little premature, don’t you think?”
Phoenix spluttered, seemingly trying to come up with some kind of excuse. In the end, however, his half-formed sentences fizzled out, and he slumped, dejectedly.
“I… I guess you’re right,” he mumbled, “I’m sorry I bothered you.”
He turned away, tucking his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and slouching towards the lobby doors. Mia sighed, softly. Same, childish Mr. Wright.
But this was the only answer, surely? She couldn’t possibly mentor him. She just wasn’t experienced enough. And besides, he’d probably benefit more from practicing emotional management than practicing law. The horrible picture of Mr. Wright bursting into tears behind his bench as the prosecution called him an ‘insufferable crybaby” flashed into her mind, and she shuddered.
( ‘That’s not very nice, Mia,’ ) tutted her conscience, ( ‘He’s an idiot, but he’s an idiot who was recently framed for murder.’ )
That was true. Mia hadn’t put much thought into Mr. Wright’s condition after the trial. She’d been rather distracted by how happy she was that that woman was finally behind bars. But now that she thought about it, it must have been exceedingly difficult. Judging by Mr. Wright’s… intense behaviour in relation to his precious girlfriend, Mia wondered just how deeply her betrayal had impacted him. He’d seemed fairly stable when the trial had ended, but his feelings may have been numbed by shock. She remembered feeling a similar sort of nothingness when she’d awoken to find that her mother had left the village in the night, never to return again.
Mia was suddenly filled with a sense of empathy for the unlucky young man. She understood how it felt to have someone you depended on torn away from you. Surely, losing a mother and girlfriend were rather different things, but then again, her mother hand’t attempted to kill her.
She was suddenly filled with questions about his life; where did he live? Did he live alone? Did he have a family? Were they close? Estranged? Those friends of his, the ones among whom he was the most “grown up”– were they the type to have his back at any moment, or simply shallow acquaintances?
( ‘Stop it, Mia, you’re overthinking this. Don’t get involved. There’s really no way you can help him. It’s not like you can just let him follow you around…’ )
Mia’s brows knit together. Or could she? Her last trial, the one she’d just completed today, had been the first time she’d investigated on her own. It had been a miserable experience. Not only did she not have Mr. Grossberg’s weight to throw around (both metaphorically and literally), but without someone to bounce ideas off of, everything had felt like a terrible, tangled mess until she’d managed to write it all down in the peace of her office. And besides… there were still those certain, annoying people who decided that simply because she had a prominent bust that she couldn’t possibly be a real, serious lawyer.
So perhaps Wright could be useful to her. Not that she wanted anything out of him, but she might as well be benefitting from an arrangement between the two of them, right? She could let him get a first-hand look at the kind of work a lawyer did, and in turn he could provide a nice, Watson-like companionship.
Mia took a deep breath.
( ‘You’d better know what you’re getting yourself into…’ ) she thought, darkly, as she turned around and jogged out of the lobby doors, after the sulking man in the grey hoodie.
Her high-heels clacked on the hardwood flooring as she made her way down the hallway to the elevators, then to the first floor of the courthouse. She just managed to catch sight of a grey hood disappearing down the stately stairs to the courthouse library and gave chase.
“Mr. Wright!”
The hood stopped, then bobbed upwards as its owner came back up the stairs.
“Ms. Fey?”
“I’ve, ah,” Mia slowed her pace as she reached her target, brushing down her jacket carefully, “I’ve reconsidered my refusal.”
Phoenix blinked.
“Y-you have?”
“Yes. I think I was a little too hasty in my judgement. I still believe that I’m a little too green to make a proper teacher…” she let out a determined breath, “But it might still be beneficial for you to see what a real lawyer does.”
The transformation was instantaneous. One moment, a slouching nobody in a grey hoodie, the next, an excited puppy who was missing only a bright pink sweater.
“Ohh thank you, Ms. Fey! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Mia recoiled in fear that he might try to hug her, but mercifully, he restrained himself.
“This is great!” Phoenix did a little twirl, unable to contain his giddiness, “I’ll be a genius lawyer in no time for sure! Oh! But I promise––”
He was in her face again, a look of ardent determination in his eyes, “I’ll do everything in my power to be the best –Mentee? Mentored? W-whatever– The best student ever!”
He straightened up into a plank and saluted stiffly, “Phoenix Wright, reporting for duty, ma’am! And my first order of business will be to buy you a coffee!”
Mia’s stomach lurched.
“N-No! No coffee! I…”
Phoenix’s face fell. Mia swallowed.
“I don’t like coffee,” said Mia, firmly, “Please don’t buy me any.”
Phoenix was at a loss for a few moments, before regaining his composure.
“Oh! Y-yeah… I pegged you as more of a fruit-smoothy kind of lady from the start, actually. Just wanted to seem professional, y’know, cause, professional people… like… co…fee…”
He trailed off, his cheeks turning pink. My repressed an eye-roll and a chuckle.
“It’s alright. You’re not my intern or anything. Your main job right now is to study hard. You are… studying, aren’t you?”
Phoenix perked up, “Oh, yes! I’m studying my butt off, just like I said I would! Should I… uh… keep doing that?”
“That’s what got me where I am…”
Phoenix looked slightly disappointed. Evidently, studying his butt off was not something he especially enjoyed.
“There’s no substitute for knowing the books,” said Mia, briskly, “But field work might do you some good. So, next time I get a case, I’ll give you a call, and you can come help me with the investigations and such.”
“Oh boy, really?!”
Phoenix looked so excited that Mia had trouble repressing another chuckle. He really was like some kind of big, upright puppy-dog. And it was a lot less annoying when he wasn’t puppy-dogging about that woman…
Mia ignored the better part of his enthused rambling as she made her way towards the parking lot. She had a feeling that things wouldn’t exactly go smoothly, but she had a certain confidence that she hadn’t made the wrong decision.
“So, when do we start?” Phoenix asked, ambling along beside her, happy as a clam.
“When I get another case, Mr. Wright, like I said two minutes ago.”
“Ah.” this only stymied him for a second, though, “Well! Hey! You know, you don’t have to call me ‘Mr. Wright’ all the time! I’m not your client anymore; we’re partners, now!”
“P-partners?”
“Yeah! Bonnie and Clyde, Marie and Pierre, Romeo and Juli–– Okay, maybe not Romeo and Juliette,” he paused, glancing at her furtively, “Unless, you, uh––“
“NO. No. We are none of those,” Mia interrupted firmly, fixing her hair up behind her head with an elastic and picking up her helmet, “But I appreciate the sentiment. I’ll call you Phoenix, if that’s what you want.”
“Great! And I’ll call you––“
“Ms. Fey will be fine,” insisted Mia, quickly.
Phoenix lowered his head, pouting, “I was gonna say ‘Chief’.”
Mia paused for a moment, taken aback.
“Oh… Well, if you like.”
Phoenix brightened again, “Great! Thanks, Chief!”
He grinned, obviously tickled by the way that sounded, before noticing that Mia already had one leg over her motorbike.
“W-well! I can see that you’ve got business to attend to, Chief! So I’ll just let you get to it, Chief!”
Mia pulled a small book out of her pocket along with a pen and handed it to Phoenix.
“Put down your number so I can call you.”
“O-of course!”
Phoenix scribbled his number down in the book and handed it back to Mia. She put it back into her pocket and seated herself firmly on her bike, revving the engine.
“Alright, then. See you… sometime.”
She was almost all the way out of the parking lot, and therefor unable to hear when Phoenix suddenly called after her, “W-wait! C-can I get your number tooooooo?!”
—
It was late when Mia parked her bike outside Grossberg Law Offices and took the elevator up to the workspace. It was away from Mr. Grossberg’s personal office, and far less opulent in decor. There were three desks in the room; one belonging to herself, one belonging to the newest member, Mr. Sloan Start, and the third one was left empty.
She stared at this empty desk absently as she put her briefcase down and shuffled a few papers on her desk. It had been almost a year since it had been occupied. She always gave it a wide berth when she entered the office, but it never failed to draw her eyes.
“Ah! Mia.”
Mia jumped. Mr. Grossberg was filling the doorway, his moustache twitching over his peaceful smile.
“Mr. Grossberg… You startled me.”
“So sorry, m’dear,” replied Grossberg, gently, approaching her from around the desk, “I just came to congratulate you on your win today.”
“Oh, thank you, sir,” said Mia, still fiddling with the files on her desk.
“At this rate, you’ll be a veteran in no time. Who knows? You might even open your own law office, someday.”
This reminded Mia of her little agreement from earlier.
“Mr. Grossberg, I have a question,” she began, uncertainly.
“Ask away, m’dear, ask away.”
“Would it be alright if I brought on a sort of… unofficial paralegal to my cases?”
Grossberg stroked his chins, thoughtfully, “I don’t see why not… I doubt you need one, though, Mia.”
“It’s really more for his sake,” she muttered, “Anyway, that’s good. He won’t bother us or anything, I’ll just take him on investigations and such.”
Grossberg frowned, curiously.
“Is he the bothering type?”
“He’s… well, he’s Mr. Wright.”
“Mr.–– Oh good lord! Mia!” Mr. Grossberg spluttered in shock, “Him? Of all people?!”
“I know, I know. But I have a feeling about him. And I could use an assistant.”
Grossberg shook his head and sighed.
“Well… I suppose if he’s your responsibly. Yet…” his expression became softer, “It is very like you, Mia, to take on a challenge like this. To believe in someone who seems beyond belief…”
His eyes crinkled slightly, “I think that is exactly what makes you such a good lawyer.”
“Huh. That’s exactly what Mr. Wright said…” said Mia, quietly.
“Well, if even a buffoon like him can see that, then I’d say that you’ll go even farther than I imagined.”
Grossberg turned to go, “Goodnight, my dear. Do turn out the lights when you’re finished.”
It was very late indeed when Mia was done doing her paperwork and sorting her files. The electric clock on her desk read eleven forty-five as she clicked her briefcase shut and rose to leave the office.
Before she went to turn out the lights, her eyes rested on a small, framed photograph on her desk. Herself, wearing her brand-new city clothes, and a younger girl with dark hair and a smile that put the sun to shame.
“Things will be different this year,” she murmured as she turned to flip the light switch, “I promise, Maya.”