Chapter Text
“What do you mean you don’t sell it any longer?”
“Sir, it means that we don’t sell it anymore. It wasn’t a popular enough product. I don’t know what else to tell ya.”
Miles Edgeworth did not consider himself an individual that liked to scream at underpaid retail workers and demand to talk to the manager of whatever establishment was in question. But when his nearest supermarket suddenly and without warning stopped selling Phoenix Wright’s Pure And Organic Honey, it was hard to contain his frustration. On top of that, this store had been the only one in town to still sell the thing.
“How could it not be popular? It might have very well been the best honey on this entire continent, any tea connoisseur could see that!” Edgeworth insisted, impatiently tapping his finger against his upper arm. At this point he should have been home already, sitting with Pess on his lap and a cup of high-quality unflavored black tea, of course with a spoonful of the very honey in question in the mix. It was what he deserved after such a long day of files and files and files.
The employee only shrugged, clearly looking like she wanted to go back to listening to her music and shelving whatever product she had in hand. She continued to look at Edgeworth with a bored look in her eyes, awkwardly expecting him to go away already. But Miles Edgeworth wanted answers. No, he needed them.
There was a tired sigh from the young employee. “Look, man- I mean sir, I can’t help ya. Apparently Mr. Wright, the guy who makes that thing sells it every day at the Sunflower Springs marketplace. That’s where we got it from, see? But it’s an hour’s drive away, so…”
Edgeworth perked up at that. So, not all hope was lost after all. If he wanted peace of mind, all he had to do was just drive to that small town, get himself some honey, and move on with his life until he needed more. Sure, it was a little embarrassing to drive that long for a single product, but nobody had to know. He’d blend right in with the locals and nobody would have any idea that he was a boring office worker from the big city.
“I see. Thank you, young lady,” he spoke, already racing out of the store with his usual elegance. He was originally going to go home and watch some Steel Samurai reruns, but if it was for the sake of his tea, then… Yes, an hour wasn’t that bad. He could walk Pess right after he returned and give her some apology treats for the unusually late walk.
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As it turned out, an hour could feel like forever. He wasn’t really the type of person to listen to the radio, since it had really always felt like meaningless background noise to him. He had no way of listening to his preferred Steel Samurai soundtrack either, so he was left to listen as the white noise of the car filled the silence, the car humming and occasionally shaking when it hit a bump on the road. Accompanied only by these sounds and his bitter and tasteless gas station coffee lacking in the subtle flavors of a good blend, he traveled onward, closer to the peace of mind he was so desperately looking for.
The scenery was fairly dull as well. Once he’d made it out of the big city, only fields and little houses near pitifully small forests were left behind him, blurring together and making him sleepy. The most interesting things near the road were the occasional cows and horses, and even those failed to be exciting after fifteen minutes. He was actually contemplating just turning around, giving up and going home to take a nap, but a lone sign ahead caught his eye.
‘Welcome to Sunflower Springs, home of crop fields and gardens!’
It was a rather silly sight, really. It wasn’t like the town was a popular tourist location, after all. There were sunflowers painted under the words, no doubt to make the place seem more appealing to any drivers who might consider stopping by for lunch. Regardless, Edgeworth had to admit that the colorful little buildings and wheat fields he could see ahead of him gave the area a peaceful rustic look. He could imagine the place being a place to film some drama series for middle-aged secretaries. Not that his job was that much more exciting.
He drove through the little maze of small homes and various buildings, vibrant front yards and the lone bed and breakfast or café here and there. The marketplace was supposed to be in the center of town, or that’s what he could gather online at the very least. He felt strange, out of place. He felt like the people who saw his bright red car were staring through the car windows right at him. He was an intimidating stranger, an intruder in this tiny countryside paradise. Still, he kept going. For the honey, he told himself. The locals and the children and the stray cats surely had more important things to worry about than him.
The town was so small that he didn’t even have time to get lost on his way to the market. Even now in the afternoon, the place seemed surprisingly busy. Maybe the various booths of fresh produce and local goods were more popular than he’d anticipated. Silently praying that as few people as possible noticed him, he parked his car between a blue pickup truck and a tractor. Quite ironic. He got out of the car, very careful not to hit his door on the vehicle next to him so he would not scratch his car. He prided himself on taking extremely good care of it, after all.
He stretched heartily, glad to get some fresh air after the drive. And boy, the air really was fresh. Nothing like the big city where the skies were gray more often than not and pollution was just an everyday thing that you had to learn to live with. It wasn’t pretty, but it was reality, and he understood that. He may not have liked it, but he understood it. The future was in the city, and some things had to be given up to have a bright tomorrow. He repeated that to himself like a mantra to get himself out of bed in the morning. But now was not the time for a self-reflective crisis. He was a man on a mission.
He ignored the strange looks that he was now definitely getting from people, ignored the occasional giggles he was surely the cause of as he walked towards the little square filled with booths and carts of various kinds. There was no reason to feel embarrassed. None of these people knew him, and none of them would even remember him in a week or two. He had absolutely no reason at all to fuss over the kind of impression he would leave on these people, on these strangers. So what if he wore a suit in such a small town?
The place smelled of fresh berries, flowers and roasted almonds. Even the unpleasant smell of freshly caught fish was present, floating into his nostrils as he passed booths brimming with vegetables, wool, handmade wooden crafts and even baked goods. They all looked to be of a high quality that Edgeworth couldn’t help but appreciate. And maybe for the tiniest moment he even felt tempted to take a closer look at the handcrafted red turtleneck sweater hanging from a small stall of all kinds of knitted clothes and accessories. As much as he hated to admit it, not being one to appreciate shopping in the slightest, it was really relaxing to even just walk through the square and look at all the colorful products all around him.
After a while, he finally spotted what he was looking for. A stall just like the others, boasting a sign with the words Wright’s Organic Honey Products on the roof. This had to be the right place, but for some reason, he felt a slight hint of nervousness enter the back of his mind. But since it didn’t even make any sense, he simply approached the booth even as his steps felt somehow forced and awkward. He had to remind himself that nobody knew who he was, and again, nobody could remember him, because to these people he was a stranger, someone to not pay much mind to. Not unlike back home.
“Well hey there, you don’t look familiar! You out of town?”
The greeting was from the booth’s owner, obviously, and yet somehow Edgeworth froze. He wasn’t expecting a voice like that, and certainly not a face like that.
A face like what, Edgeworth? He’s just some small business owner, get a hold of yourself. You’re a grown adult, not some hormonal teenager, a more pragmatic part of his brain reminded him.
The man in front of him seemed to almost shine, although logically that must have just been the effect of the sun behind him. He had odd, spiky black hair, perhaps kept in shape by some kind of hair product. Only a small strand of hair was loose near the forehead in a way that made it seem unintentional. Freckles dusted his nose and cheeks, contrasting his light yet tan skin. He wore blue overalls and a long sleeve shirt with dark blue and white stripes, the sleeves clinging to his obviously toned arms. From his mouth stuck out a piece of hay, just like the textbook definition of a farmer, and wow, was that supposed to be kind of hot?
“Uhm…” Edgeworth spluttered. How eloquent. He brushed off nonexistent dust from his suit that he now wished he’d changed out of, and straightened his posture and mental state. If he didn’t want his embarrassing secret of driving for an hour just for this to be found out, it was time for a little bluff. “No, I actually live close by, but I just moved. I am Miles Edgeworth,” he introduced himself actually quite smoothly. He was back on track again. “I’m here to get honey.”
The man before him laughed brightly and heartily, stirring up something strange within Edgeworth. “Yeah, I figured. Here at my booth we have honey soap, honey lip balm, honey candy, honeyed almonds, honey mustard, beeswax candles, flavored honey… And of course, just plain old regular unflavored honey. Feel free to ask me about any of the products here or anything else that might come to mind!” He spoke, voice still so very bright. It wasn’t at all like the customer service voice he was so used to hearing in coffee shops and convenience stores back where Edgeworth lived.
He nodded, taking a look at his surroundings. There were indeed all kinds of honey and bee products laid out on the table in front of him, jars and candles and bars among other things. Along with that, there was also something that stuck out a little more. An apiary. He could only take one glance at it before the salesperson spoke up.
“Oh, you’re wondering about that. The bees just like seeing new types of things, ya know? So they stay here with me while I sell all this stuff,” he explained, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. There was a slight blush spread out on his cheeks and his smile had turned almost shy. It was quite the endearing sight.
Edgeworth hummed in acknowledgement, eyes scanning the various jars of honey. There was a pile with flavored ones, everything from mint to oranges to vanilla. The other pile was what he was looking for, the one with just regular honey, packaged just like it had been at the store. “Well, unfortunately I’m only here for one jar of the non-flavored one. Really, this honey is so good that I could almost marry whoever this Phoenix Wright person is,” he joked in hopes that it’d make him seem more like a local. He didn’t notice just how much his statements were actually doing the opposite in subtle ways.
There was an unexpected moment of silence from the man, but as quickly as it came it was replaced by a cheery tone. “Really, now? Well, let me get that jar for you then. Just so you know, we only accept cash here,” he informed, grabbing a jar and punching in some numbers on an old-fashioned cash register.
Edgeworth nodded, taking his wallet from his pocket. He was quite pleased to find out that the honey was actually much cheaper here than it had been at the supermarket. “Understood, here’s your-- okay, that’s a bee…!” He interrupted himself once he spotted a small, fuzzy insect on his wrist, curiously investigating his hand and wiggling its legs. He wasn’t really afraid of bees, not exactly at least, but he was very much surprised and a little tense because of this unexpected visitor.
“Ah, Maya, get back here!” The other man exclaimed in an almost scolding tone. He extended a hand towards Edgeworth’s own, very slightly brushing his skin against his, and the tiny bee soon crawled onto the man’s palm. It was carefully stroked with one finger, an action that was quite amusing to watch for Edgeworth. “Sorry about that, here’s your honey. I hope you come back to visit us again, it’s been so nice talking to you! What was your name again?”
Edgeworth took the honey, prepared to take his leave when the question was asked from him. He hesitated for a much shorter time than he usually would. It wasn’t like him to give out his name to strangers. “Miles Edgeworth. And yours?”
“Phoenix Wright, ace beekeeper!”