Chapter Text
The wardrobe was filled to the brim with pink and blue items, only intermittently disrupted by newspaper articles and a few ‘fan’ items in the form of masks, hats, and a wand. It was overwhelming to see, and this was from a man who had his walls painted a light red in his office whole boasting a limited edition statue of the fabled Steel Samurai. He stared in equal parts awe and concern as he struggled to find the right remark. When he opened his mouth, apparently his voice settled on “and you called me a fanboy?”
“I did ask you not to look in that,” protested the owner of the wardrobe from behind him. Phoenix stood bashfully at the entrance to the room where he’d just caught his friend satisfying his curiosity by peering into the new furniture. The wardrobe on the outside looked just as used as the rest of Phoenix’s apartment. Inside it was brimming with life.
“Why do you have a wardrobe filled with pictures of Illusionary Mask?” Edgeworth asked, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene before him.
“Well, as you mentioned, I’m a fan,” Wright mumbled, his voice much closer as he stepped up next to the prosecutor and seemed to study the mini-shrine as well. “And at least she is cute, energetic, and always optimistic! It’s hard not to like her.”
“You say that as if the Pink Princess was anything less!” Edgeworth retorted, crossing his arms and finally turning to stare at Phoenix himself. Blue eyes darted away from steel, embarrassed.
“Well, maybe, but Illusionary Mask is special.” Phoenix was clearly deflecting. Well then, time to try another route.
“Should I ask why you don’t even have anything on her counterpart?” Edgeworth questioned. “If you’re going to be a fan of one half of the duo, it’s only fair to give the other at least partial consideration.”
“Oh boy, getting lectures on how to be a proper fan from the great and wonderful Miles Edgeworth. Yes, I have some on Kobolt.” He gestured to the corner where the pinks gave way to gray and the blues darkened ever so slightly. Sure enough, there was a single article that featured the second half of the superhero duo as well as the signature bow in miniaturized form. The size and dedication almost seemed to be mocking the Kobolt.
“Okay, but this doesn’t explain why you’re a fan. You’re a grown man. If there was ever a time when you should have been a fan, I would’ve assumed it was when you were younger and more enthusiastic. Besides, both of these heroes seem little more than children. I cannot endorse the violence inflicted on them.”
“These two are a special case,” Phoenix repeated, closing the wardrobe to try and shift Edgeworth’s attention from the colorful scene. “And, yeah, I’m not for the violence either but I figured if I can’t stop them, I could at least support them. Now, can we please forget about my hidden interests? Or should I bring up yours and what you did when you first found out who the real Pink Princess was?”
Edgeworth tried not to flinch, pushing glasses up and clearing his throat. “I suppose I can acquiesce to your request. I assume your return means dinner is prepared?”
“Yeah, I just got to dish it out and set it on the table. Mind helping me?”
As the two went towards the kitchen, Edgeworth noticed four bowls set up but Phoenix only grabbed two, handing them over to his friend before moving on to grab two cups. “Are Trucy and Apollo not joining us?”
“They’re out… on an investigation. I don’t know when they’ll return,” Wright mumbled in explanation.
“Oh? I wasn’t aware your associate was on a case.” He hadn’t meant to doubt Wright’s words, but the spiky haired man gasped in surprise.
“Oh! Um! Yeah, he isn’t! He’s helping a friend! Or something. They didn’t exactly explain what.” Wright rubbed the back of his head before hurriedly going to the fridge to fill up the glasses with ice and water.
Edgeworth was positive Wright was lying, but had no idea where to start dissecting the lie from the truth. Besides, he promised to leave work behind when he came to these dinners and trying to figure out what Apollo and Trucy were up to sounded a lot like work. As he served up the pasta from the pot, a simple dish of alfredo, he decided to drop it but keep it in the back of his mind to pursue later.
“Thanks, by the way,” Wright said as he set the cups down and Edgeworth followed with the meal. Sliced garlic bread was already on the table. At Edgeworth’s arced eyebrow of inquiry, Phoenix continued, “for making it to these family dinners. I know Trucy practically guilted you into them, but you’ve kept coming without complaint each time.”
“You seem to always want to say something to that effect each time we meet up. It’s no problem.” Edgeworth waved a hand dismissively. “And Trucy hardly guilt-tripped me. I’m here of my own volition, not out of any obligation to my niece.”
“I guess, but it’s still nice. Even if those two are late.” Phoenix sat down and gave a gentle smile to the man across the table.
I’d come here just for that smile, Edgeworth thought ruefully, though he just grunted a response before taking a bite of the food. Phoenix sat eagerly as he watched Edgeworth chew his food. When he finished his bite, he stuck his fork back in the pasta, twirling it as he spoke. “A bit too much garlic and the noodles are a little hard, but still edible.” He edited his statement as Phoenix frowned, unsatisfied. “It’s definitely delicious even with those minor flaws. Certainly home cooking, which has more… heart than the finest chefs.”
That made the blue eyed man grin and Phoenix began to dig into his own meal. Quiet, familiar, and idle banter proceeded from there, avoiding talking about their work and instead about life. It swiftly drifted back to the two super hero duos that the two were apparently fans of, comparing the two and their adversaries. Edgeworth was in the middle of explaining why the Evil Magistrate had caused more harm and thus was the worse of the two villains when the door to Wright’s apartment burst open and two voices called in, one drowning out the other.
“We’re home!” the two said, Trucy bounding over in delight to the table. “Oh, pasta! Thank goodness, I’m starved!”
“I am as well,” Apollo echoed, trudging into the room. He flashed a weak smile at the two men there. “Hi, sorry we’re late.”
“No worries, Edgeworth and I were just catching up and comparing superheroes. He thinks the Steel Samurai and Pink Princess are better than Illusionary Mask and Kobolt!” Phoenix laughed, almost seeming to try and get a jibe out of the two younger people there.
Apollo nodded at Edgeworth as if he agreed with the prosecutor, but Trucy gasped, completely offended. “No way! Illusionary Mask is the best! She’s cute, and happy, and her powers are a lot more interesting than some talented spear use!”
“Trucy, the Steel Samurai was also invincible,” Apollo added weakly as he went to the kitchen to get food. His loud voice carried back to the table easily.
“Being invincible is boring though! Where’s the excitement?” Trucy protested, sitting at the table with the assumption that Apollo would bring her food to her. She began munching on a slice of garlic bread.
“No, I have to agree with Apollo there,” Phoenix conceded. “If I was being honest, I’d rather Illusionary Mask and Kobolt have invincibility as their primary powers. I just happen to think both of them have more vibrant personalities. Steel Samurai and Pink Princess were kind of… dull.”
Trucy huffed in annoyance, rolling her eyes at her father. Apollo returned with two bowls and cups balanced carefully in his hands. He lowered a gaze at Phoenix and Trucy. “That’s because the Pink Princess never spoke in the first place and the Steel Samurai only gave necessary statements to the press to assure them. That isn’t to say they were without personality, they just kept it professional.”
“Outside of the fact he seems withdrawn, I feel like Kobolt holds much the same values,” Edgeworth noted, somehow feeling the lines blur between the four heroes. Apollo seemed to glow with pride at Edgeworth’s statement, but it was subtle enough Edgeworth wasn’t sure. “It’s Illusionary Mask that has dropped all pretense of professionalism and gone the route of teenage heroine. Maybe that appeals to the masses, though. Didn’t that phantom thief—Mask DeMasque—also try the same route?”
“Oh, yeah, he did, but that was with reckless confidence not enthusiastic cheering. Besides, her powers work well with her personality,” Phoenix added.
Considering this, Edgeworth nodded. “I’ll have to agree with you there. I doubt her illusions would have nearly the same effect if she didn’t boastfully run about. Sometimes it seems she believes her own illusions are real. It works quite well.” This time Trucy was brimming with happiness at his statement, as if it was personal.
“Anyway!” Apollo interrupted, louder than necessary. “Can we move on from this topic? I thought we were going to talk to Mr. Edgeworth about next month’s plans? Like, you know, Trucy’s birthday?”
“Oh right!” Phoenix acknowledged, taking the bait. “Are we still renting out the observatory, Edgeworth? I know you offered, but it seems like a big deal.”
“Hardly, the price for renting for a day is intended to work with people of all incomes, but if it makes you feel better I could place the deposit and you cover the rest? That should split if fifty-fifty.”
This time, the conversation shifted into plans. Happy ones, Edgeworth had to admit as he enjoyed the domesticated life style. Planning for parties hadn’t been something he ever expected to do in his life, not since his father died, but as this became his third time hosting, he felt gradually more confident in the proceedings.
The hours ticked away, however, and soon he had to say goodbye. He had a dog at home and a dog sitter to set free. The four of them shared farewells, Apollo leaving out the door with him to his own residence, though his was closer and his travel was by bike not car. For a moment, Edgeworth contemplated dropping the young man off, but discarded that idea when he remembered his car couldn’t fit said bike. Getting a mount for it might go a bit too far in being helpful, too.
He slid into the front seat of his vehicle and started off, watching Apollo head in his own direction. Edgeworth’s radio was on the news as intended, keeping him up to date on the happenings in the city. It helped him be aware of what cases might come up, especially if the media caught hold of an incident before the police or prosecution did. The reporter’s voice, however, was not on some discovered body or broken into store, but on the heroes they had just been discussing over dinner.
“—Where the villain Mr. E struck for the third time. It seems his focus may be on this poor statue, though his reasoning is unknown at the time. When interviewed, Illusionary Mask had this to say.”
The voice changed to a higher, feminine voice, distorted partially by the mask. Over the radio, it almost sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place where. “No matter how many times Mr. E tries to destroy the symbols of our city, we will be there to stop him!”
The reporter returned after the brief statement. “Kobolt refused an interview, claiming injury and a wish to head off early. Yet again, these two managed to keep our city safe. One only knows when their villain will appear again, but we have confidence Illusionary Mask and her sidekick Kobolt will be there to defend the city from his crimes.”
The news changed to commercial afterwards, and Edgeworth sighed. He had to admit to Phoenix that those two were definitely diligent. He also wished they didn’t have to fight, a sentiment Phoenix echoed all while being their supporter. It was such a shame that the city endorsed such vigilantism out of sheer necessity. If it ever came to trying them in court, there was no doubt that neither verdict would be well received. The consequences made him shiver as well, but he could only hope that they finish their task before they were ever caught.
*
Two nights later, Edgeworth found himself pressed against a wall, glowering up at the sky where two super heroes fought against the goons of Mr. E. The villain himself wasn’t there, but, despite media reports claiming otherwise, he rarely showed up at all. Still, it was dangerous to be anywhere near the fighting and Edgeworth was struggling to find a path that would get him to safety instead of making himself a liability.
He dashed quickly across the street at a brief opening, ducking into the next alley and cursing his luck. There’d been a high profile murder and he’d been sent to handle the case as Chief Prosecutor at the request of the son. Of course, he was already sure who the culprit was—the wife who was angry that the son, who was not hers, would inherit the business over her much younger child—but discovering this and finding undeniable proof had led him into the late hours. Which was how he ended up in the middle of a fight scene.
Illusionary Mask leaped across a roof top with easy, several nondescript goons following after in black and gray jumpsuits complete with a mask like Mr. E’s. In comparison to the black sky and dark enemies, Mask was a bright light of pink and pastel blue. Her cape was segmented between the two colors before giving way to a blue dress with a pink sash. Her mask covered the entire top of her head, giving only a few flyaway brown hairs freedom, and that was held under a blue top hat. The outfit was gorgeous and shimmered in the moonlight, and had been the number one costume of children for Halloween that year. She held in her hands a blue wand with a pink orb at the top. The image in the orb shifted depending on what she was doing, moving to mimic basic shapes for her illusions. Such as now, when it created a giant bird that flew at the enemy.
Even knowing her powers were more illusion than reality, the goons were helpless. Some tried to press through the bird as if it didn’t exist and a few tried to dodge. The rest flinched back in preparation of the oncoming assault as they were stuck in midair. The ones that tried to endure and the ones that jerked back were struck, falling between the gaps of the buildings. Sometimes Mask’s abilities had kinetic energy in it, but not often enough to always dodge and lose momentum. As it was, the ones who dodged landed on a building a few rooftops away from Mask.
An arrow struck across the space between the buildings Illusionary Mask had just jumped across, an electrified tether attached to it. Once the arrow hit the opposing building, the tether spread out into a net, lighting sizzling out just in time to catch the goons. Kobolt nearby visibly sighed, relaxing as he saved the lives of the body suited men and women. Mr. E’s primary ability seemed to be controlling people, and most of the goons were made up of victims. This meant Mask was tasked with disrupting Mr. E’s plan while Kobolt mitigated damage to the people. Thus far it worked, only a few people ending up seriously injured.
Kobolt shot another arrow up and then proceeded to climb up the tether that was attached. The arrow hung ominously on nothing, making Edgeworth shiver. In the light of the streetlamps and the full moon, Kobolt seemed almost small in comparison to Mask. Despite being the same height, Kobolt kept himself as invisible as possible. The task was difficult when dressed in an outfit that resembled a slim set of armor, complete with two crescent horns on the side that sparked with lightning, but it worked due to the flamboyant nature of his partner. Blue streaks were visible between the cracks of the armor and on the two large bands that flowed from his wrists. A similar band of blue drifted elegantly off of his bow.
Once at the top, Kobolt made his way over the rooftops, leaping as easily as his partner and eager to catch up. It was mostly clear except for the now unconscious and trapped minions. Edgeworth moved to make his way down the street until he heard a cry for help from the opposite end of his alley.
Kobolt and Illusionary Mask can handle it, Edgeworth thought all the while moving to assist. He stepped onto the street at the other end, hidden by his coat and only really noticeable from the light hitting his silver hair. He pulled his coat closer, eager to call out and find who had screamed but nervous about drawing attention to himself.
He spotted movement two buildings down and in the middle of broken glass. A young woman was collapsed on the shards and a girl hovering over her, the source of the screaming. The woman was in a body suit, but the top piece and mask had been torn off. Standing before them was a goon, looking absolute furious. It grunted nonverbally, unable to speak without commands from its master most likely, meaning it was being controlled.
They’ll be here, they’ll save her, Edgeworth told himself as he started into a dash. He didn’t see either hero nearby. They wouldn’t make it. He couldn’t let something happen to the poor girl’s parent; he couldn’t let another child become a victim to the cruelties of crime.
As the minion raised a fist to strike the woman, Edgeworth barreled into the man. His immediate thought was how much it was like being shoved into a metal wall, but fortunately he had enough force to topple the enemy. Unfortunately, he fell alongside his target. Quickly trying to roll off, Edgeworth realized with certainty that he was about to be met with sudden and brutal violence. He flinched as he spotted the fallen individual shift just enough to try and strike the prosecutor on top of him.
Instead, the goon yelled out in pain as lightning jolted around him. Edgeworth himself felt a harsh tug as he was pulled off just before he felt a similar pain as a result of contact. Stumbling back, he barely kept on his feet. Steel eyes turned to meet brown as Kobolt steadied him. “Be careful, Mr. Edgeworth. You aren’t as protected as us.”
Edgeworth gaped, wondering how Kobolt knew his name. He never got an answer, though, as Kobolt grabbed the goon, moving to carry him off to join the others most likely. Edgeworth instead turned to address the two girls. To his dismay, though, neither was conscious. The woman had already been out, but Edgeworth guessed the girl had fallen from either panic or relief. Without a time frame, he couldn’t know for sure. He’d just have to call an ambulance to take them to safety.
“Gah!” Kobolt cried out, startling the Chief Prosecutor and redirecting his attention once again. The goon Edgeworth had tackled apparently wasn’t unconscious and was only pretending to be. He’d taken the arrow Kobolt shot into him and stabbed it into the armored superhero. The shaft stuck halfway out of the nook between neck and shoulder. Kobolt crumpled and Edgeworth moved into action, his mind on hold as his body reacted with more valor than he ever expected to have.
Without Kobolt to summon them, he had no arrows to work with, however Kobolt’s bow was always on hand. Edgeworth swept to grab the weapon as the enemy—once more ignoring Edgeworth in favor of priority—grabbed Kobolt by the neck. It tore the arrow out, causing blood to pour out of the wound and Kobolt cry in pain once more. The brown eyes of the hero glassed over as his consciousness was clearly faded.
Edgeworth tried not to yell and call attention to himself as he swung the bow hard over the head of the enemy. “Call out the words!” he hollered just as the bow and string wrapped around the goon. For a startling moment he was worried he was too late, but Kobolt shouted at the top of his lungs—a startlingly high volume—“Charge!” just as Edgeworth let go of the weapon and fell back. Lightning didn’t hurt Kobolt, if Edgeworth remembered correctly, but it certainly had an effect on the enemy. This time, when the gray suited man fell, he didn’t get up.
Panting, Edgeworth shivered from the close call, for himself, for the women, and for Kobolt. He placed his hands on his knees, bent over to collect himself both physically and mentally, and then moved to check on the superhero. Kobolt was completely unconscious now, but Edgeworth had no time to worry about it. He moved to put pressure on the wound, worried about the location as well as how deep it had gone in. As he held hands to the hero’s neck, the armor began to fade, whatever magic holding it to reality fading with Kobolt’s consciousness.
Out of respect for the hero, he tried not to look at his true identity, but that became immediately impossible when the red suit, odd bracelet, and brown pointed hair revealed only one possible individual.
Widening gray eyes at the boy before him, he whispered “Apollo Justice.”