Chapter Text
When Miles Edgeworth saw Phoenix Wright wave sheepishly at him from across a room of 75 other fresh law students, he thought was hallucinating. There were good reasons for it. First, Wright was his childhood friend. Emphasis on childhood. Seeing him grown up with only a hint of the boy he used to be was like seeing a ghost. Second, this was Ivy Law school. Miles didn’t think Wright had the brain cells to score the 175 minimum points on the LSAT to make it here. And third, he was in massive denial because a sinking part of his brain went oh no.
Law school was about winning and dominating others. It was the place for sharks and the elite. It was not the place for someone as lame and as goody-two-shoes as Wright undoubtedly was. He would get eaten alive, try to associate with Miles, and embarrass the hell out of him. He was a liability, Miles could see it immediately.
“You know him?” a voice asked him politely. Miles turned to regard the speaker: it was Diego Armando. The man had a strong reputation already, and it was only day one of law school. The man had an impeccable mock trial pedigree from undergrad, had been nationally ranked, and everyone thought he was going to be the next hot-shot trial lawyer. The Ivy Facebook group had been abuzz with news that he would be attending. Miles couldn’t wait to go toe-to-toe with him to see how he measured up.
“Someone I went to elementary school with,” he conceded unwillingly. He had no idea what Wright would tell others and a kernel of truth would be the safest best. He also needed to network with Diego, so admitting some personal details couldn’t hurt. “I didn’t even recognize him at first.
“Hmm,” was all Diego said. Miles turned fully to look at him. The handsome man wasn’t looking at Wright anymore, but instead, was sharply eyeing the girl who just walked up to Wright: Mia Fey. A person with a fascinating background. Daughter of the CEO of the dynastic corporation Kurain, Inc., which used to be a mega-business with disproportionate power given the number of people who worked there. But a scandal had rocked the business a decade prior. The name was still whispered reverently but tainted with the gossiping glee of those who loved a fall from grace.
They both watched as Mia smiled brightly at Wright, said something they couldn’t hear, and poked him in the shoulder. Wright returned a crooked smile and scratched at his head. They were clearly already friends. Miles cursed not having made better use of the Facebook group. It looked like most people were already finding their clique, even Wright! He shouldn’t have ignored those social outings before school. He glanced quickly at Diego with renewed determination and just barely caught Diego’s lips moving.
“Fucking Trite.” Miles almost didn’t hear it.
“What?” Miles couldn’t help but ask incredulously, almost forgetting himself.
“Didn’t say anything, Miles,” Diego smirked. “Though I don’t know what Mia sees in him. She’s the bombshell of our year, that’s for sure.”
Miles chose to ignore the bombshell comment. “He does look a bit out of place not wearing business casual.”
“Hoodies are very undergrad,” Diego agreed. Diego was wearing a smart gray vest over a red dress shirt. Miles was wearing a deep burgundy suit. Even Mia was wearing a white blouse and a very expensive looking yellow scarf. Wright, on the other hand, was wearing sandals and a slightly wrinkled hoodie.
Ugh. Miles couldn’t help but want to wrinkle his nose. Everyone knew the legal profession cared about appearances and professionalism. Even if it was just law school. He was honestly surprised it wasn’t a deal breaker for impeccably dressed Mia.
“Ah-HHHHEM! Welcome to the first class of 1L year everyone,” Professor Grossberg said. He was a legendary 1L professor. He was portly, doddering, but oddly sharp; famed for starting off with classic law school Socratic methods. He frequently cold called students, and he never accepted an “I don’t know, professor.” He’d make you cry and then send you home.
A hush fell over the class and the amount of anticipation, excitement, and fear was almost palpable. Miles could feel it and could feel his own adrenaline begin to pound through his veins. This is it Miles, he told himself. You will make your name, your peers will fear and respect you, and people will be awed at your legal mind. Everything starts here!
“Miss Fey,” he called. Mia sat up straight. “Recount the facts of Hawkins v. McGee.”
Miles was disappointed that he wasn’t called. He recognized it to be a softball question asking not for legal creativity but a mere recitation of the facts. Nonetheless, he joined the rest of the class in swiveling their heads to watch Mia in the back row, sitting next to Phoenix, to see how she would respond. Through cold calls, the pecking order would be established. He itched to know where Mia would be.
Mia flipped her long hair over a shoulder and stared dead ahead at Grossberg. Confidence radiated from her despite the dead silence in the room, punctuated only by the squeak of chairs. “Hawkins v. McGee is a contracts case. A boy burned his hand with an electric wire. A doctor was anxious to experiment with skin grafting. Guaranteeing he would restore it 100%, he took a piece of the boy’s chest and grafted it to the unfortunate boy’s hand. The operation failed to produce a healthy hand, and instead, produced a hairy hand. A hand not only burned, but covered with dense, matted hair.”
“Very concise, Ms. Fey. And what should the doctor have to pay?”
“What he actually should pay? Or what the court in 1929 just thought he should pay?” She dared ask. Grossberg’s mustache twitched slightly, but he answered her.
Overall, Miles had to grudgingly admit that Mia was someone he would have to watch out for. She knocked it out of the fucking park. She was smooth, she was clear, and she even leveled a joke at the professor. She was charismatic and sharp as hell. Grossberg asked her increasingly difficult follow up questions and Mia responded without a hitch. The whole class could sense that she had earned Grossberg’s respect. Next to her, Wright gazed at her admiringly and Miles fumed at Wright’s fortune in making acquaintances with her.
Next to him, he heard Diego sigh. “I’m in love.”
“Contain yourself,” he retorted. He had considered being unfailingly polite but was realizing with Diego’s brand of raw honesty he needed to set the record straight that he was not interested in listening to Diego talk about women. It was business or nothing else.
Diego sent him a withering glare. “Can’t see a quality woman if she’s right in front of you and obviously read a week in advance.”
There were about 300 students per year. The students were divided into four sections of 75 students each. For the first year of law school and the first year only, students would take classes with only their section.
Miles was Section 1, which meant that he was stuck with Diego and Mia and Wright for the entire year. So far, he had been lucky, and Wright hadn’t tried to talk to him or embarrass him. He wondered if it would hold up. From what he remembered of Wright’s letters to him when he moved away, the man was far from a quitter. But he was also starting to get confused- was he overthinking Wright? Maybe the man just wanted to go to law school too? Was it all a coincidence?
No way! Miles thought.
Being in Section 1 didn’t mean that he didn’t get to talk to those in the other sections, though. A rather tragic part of law school was the weekly sanctioned drinking. Every Thursday, the Student Bar Association would choose a bar to host “Bar Review.” Where everyone in the law school was invited to imbibe and mingle. Miles felt obliged to accept it--this was where the “magic” happened. Where lawyers made alliances with those who one day would become judges and politicians.
The rest of the class, however, seemed far from viewing it that way and loved it for the discounted drinks. Miles had to admit that he was hoping to talk about the finer points of constitutional law over wine, but instead found himself with a cocktail listening to Diego.
He nursed his drink almost angrily at the bar, sitting next to Diego as the man held court. The man gave Mia a run for her money with how charismatic he was and was regaling the group with story after story of his undergrad mock trial victories.
Miles himself had done undergrad abroad, where mock trial was not a common extracurricular. He had, however, been taught by none other than Manfred Von Karma. That alone gave him a social boost, but given that his last name was still Edgeworth, not everyone knew of the connection.
Across the bar, he spotted his adopted sister. Franziska Von Karma was a true Von Karma. She easily threw back a shot of vodka and then snapped her whip threateningly. Next to her sat someone he knew to be Adrian Andrews, who wasn’t even a law student, but someone his sister invited to law school events because she found literally everyone else at school foolish. She had finished her undergrad a year early just so she could enter law school at the same time as him. He knew that while Franziska was often out of sight due to being in Section 2 the majority of the competition would be from her. Her reputation exceeded his, for unlike him, her last name proudly reflected her father’s. That, and from what he heard, her whip made a striking impression on the first day of class in Section 2.
And beyond her, he could see a head of spiky black hair facing away from him. And beyond that head, he could see the visages of Mia Fey and her younger sister Maya Fey. Maya, like Adrian, was not a law student. It seemed that Mia had introduced Wright and Maya at some point and now Maya came out to hang out with Phoenix.
“So, hottest chicks? Or maybe you’ll be more discerning of hottest dudes? Rank em.”
Miles snapped back to himself, appalled. Diego was questioning a blushing Apollo Justice from Section 3.
“I-I-I’m going to buy another drink! Be back!” Apollo vanished. Diego chuckled to himself, and then addressed and dismissed the remaining group. “Okay guys, I’ll talk to you all later. Think on your answers.”
“Diego.” Miles said disapprovingly, when they were alone. “That sort of talk is going to get you in trouble.”
Diego looked deeply unbothered. “Perhaps if this were a public forum. But what’s that question among friends?”
“You scared off Apollo.”
“All part of the plan, you see.” Diego said with an extremely satisfied smirk. “Check it out.”
Miles followed his gaze and found that Apollo had run straight into Klavier Gavin from Section 3 on his way to the bartender. Gavin had the contents of his drink all over the front of his jacket, and Apollo was apologizing profusely. Apollo looked beet red at running into the rock star, but Klavier was laughing and slinging a friendly arm around Apollo.
Miles raised an eyebrow at Diego. “You can’t possibly have predicted that.”
Diego just took a swig. “Lack of vision, my friend.” Miles just wanted to roll his eyes. He wondered why he hung out with Diego so much. He sort of liked him, but maybe only a fraction of the time. He saw Lana Skye from Section 4 in the corner of his eye. Now that’s someone serious that he was more likely to get along with. She might be actually interested in discussing criminal law or evidence with him. He lamented the lack of serious scholars in Section 1. Mia counted, he supposed, but he wouldn’t get close to her because she was friends with him, and it irked Miles that he made a difference in his behavior at all.
“So what’s your answer?” Diego asked.
“What’s the question?” Miles played obtuse.
“Hotties.”
“Not looking for them.”
“You blind or something, man?”
“Just not interested.”
“Well you should be. And you really need to relax.” Diego signed. “For instance, can’t you admit that filly over there with that silvery blue hair is hot? Though Mia is still the number one sexy kitten.”
“First of all! That’s my sister. And second, do you always compare women to animals? They’re not going to love that.”
“Haha, like you know what women love. And wait, really, Franziska is your sister?”
“Adoptive.” Miles said and chose to ignore the other comment.
Diego suddenly downed his entire drink. Miles blinked at him in surprise.
“Alright. I need your help. Wingman me. I wanna talk to Mia.” Diego actually looked slightly nervous.
Miles looked over to where Mia was and felt a stab of dread. She was talking animatedly to Phoenix. “NO. Be a man and talk to her yourself.” He knew right away that his hurried attempt to protest and jab at the other man’s masculinity was too strong. Suspicious.
“This about your elementary school friend? Trite?” Diego was fairly perceptive.
“Wright? No, its not-”
“You have a falling out or something? I don’t think I’ve seen the two of you talk at all.”
“No.” This was feeling like a cross-examination and he was losing.
“Then there’s no problem, geez.” Diego said, hauling him up his feet. “Just distract the other two while I talk to Mia, ok?” Dragging him over before Miles could say anything, he shouted out, “Hey Mia!
Three heads turned to look at them, and Miles wanted to die. Phoenix’s curious gaze landed on him, and Miles felt both hot and cold. His adrenaline spiked, and it was fight or flight. He just really didn’t want to talk to him. He was almost convinced he would die of awkwardness.
But… he would also die before he showed Diego that he was discomfited.
“Mia, I guess I’ll be seeing more of you soon.” Diego said flirtatiously as he took a seat unprompted with them.
“Whatever do you mean.” Mia tilted her head at him and narrowed her eyes. “And it’s Armando?” She confirmed his name as if he wasn’t the most famous person in their class.
“That’s me. Just heard the good news. Grossberg doesn’t usually offer an internship so soon.”
“What-” All three people looked startled. Miles was feeling out of the loop.
“What are you talking about?” Mia asked, feigning curiosity, voice pitched lower.
“Oh you don’t have to play modest in front of me.” Diego said with a wink. “We’ll be associates soon enough. Grossberg told me he extended an offer to you this morning."
Mia just looked him over. Miles was putting the pieces together. Phoenix looked surprised, and Maya looked delighted.
“You mean to tell me that Grossberg extended an offer to you as well?” Mia asked, skeptical.
“I was recruited when I was in undergrad, baby. As long as I came to Ivy, of course.” Diego preened. “He never does that, usually waits until 2L year, but here we are. You got it early too.”
Miles realized that this was all going to be about Diego showing off in order to impress Mia. “I worked for him a little over the summer before school started. I’ll teach you everything I know, kitten.”
Mia laughed at that. She turned to face him more fully, a challenging and fiery gleam in her eye. “So tell me, Armando, my future senior associate, have you actually ever talked to a client? Do you call them kittens or whatever as well?”
And then, they were off, flirting outrageously. Diego being the slight chauvinist that he was and Mia figuratively digging her heels into his back in retaliation and Diego loving every minute of it. It was like a mating ritual between birds, Miles thought sardonically. Call and response, as they say in nature documentaries.
Miles then found himself being stared at curiously by the younger Fey. He gave a weak smile. She stuck her hand out.
“Hi! I’m Maya.”
“Nice to meet you, Maya. Miles Edgeworth.” He turned to face Phoenix and resisted gulping. “Wright.”
“Hello, Edgeworth,” Wright muttered. He took a long drink of some purple looking cocktail. “Surprised to see you here. Doesn’t really seem like your scene.”
“Are you guys in the same section?” Maya asked.
“Yes,” Wright said hesitantly.
“Awesome! How are you liking law school, Mr. Edgeworth?”
“It’s…” Stressful. Amazing. “acceptable.”
Maya giggled. “All you lawyers are the same! Trying to be so cool and collected! Except Nick here.” She elbowed Phoenix with a big grin.
“Hey! I can be cool and collected!”
“Please, Wright. You look harried all the time because you’re constantly seconds away from being late. And your bluffs during cold calls only work fifty percent of the time, and everyone knows it.” Miles found the words just falling out of his mouth. He paused, momentarily stunned with himself. He most certainly did not mean to say anything!
He cringed when they both looked at him with surprise and busied himself with taking another sip of his cocktail. The cloying sweet taste sat on his tongue, and he remembered that he really should not be drinking this much. “Ahh, I need to go. Criminal Law tomorrow morning, unfortunately. As you know very well, Wright. It’s nice to meet you Maya. Goodbye, Wright.”
And Miles dashed out. He didn’t want to consider that look of realization on Wright’s face that Miles actually paid attention to Wright.
Law school was a flurry of paper, paper cuts, and studying. Law school was difficult. Law school was tough. And it was a massive drain on stamina. Miles made sure to eat well, sleep well, and exercise, because those things mattered in a mental marathon like this. He spent his days in the law library furiously highlighting his casebooks. Orange for disposition of the case, pink for appeals, green for elements of claims, and yellow for anything and everything else important. He loved it. Nothing was more satisfying to him than waking up early and sitting down with his texts and a cup of tea. The law was like an old friend and Miles sank easily into the case details and serpentine windings of judicial opinions.
He always made sure to arrive early to class and looked over his notes before class started. That’s how he tended to notice who arrived when. Wright’s seat tended to be empty until right when Miles was almost sure he wouldn’t show up- then the man would burst into the room with a piece of toast in his mouth and spiky hair spiker than usual. He would slide into his seat, struggle to stay awake before long (clear signs of sleep deprivation and in Miles’s opinion improper time management) and bluff when the professors asked him questions.
“So, Mr. Wright!” Professor Grossberg exclaimed, rounding in Wright’s direction. “Judge Cardozo’s opinion in Palsgraf actually conflates the elements of duty and proximate cause, does it not?”
Miles had of course, memorized those elements long before he entered law school. Duty was a legal obligation to owe someone care. Proximate cause referred to the factor that most substantially contributed to an event. They seemed pretty different to him.
All heads, as they always do during cold calls, swivel to look at Wright. Everyone waited for Wright’s almost-certain-to-come-bluffing with keen anticipation, Miles included.
Wright looked panicked, as always, and rubbed the back of his head. “Ahh… yes?” He realized his answer sounded like a question and cleared his throat. “Yes, Professor.” It was a very nice, firm “yes” but Miles just knew Wright had no idea what he was saying and was just guessing, hoping that the 50/50 yes/no probability of being right was on his side.
“Bold assertion, Mr. Wright! To say that a Chief Judge was conflating topics you all have learned in the first two weeks of your first year of law school.”
Wright looked uneasy and Miles almost snickered. “Ahh well… Perhaps he was simply a bit confused?” Wright offered.
“A judge as well-regarded and famous as Judge Cardozo? After writing this opinion, he went on to become a Supreme Court Justice, in case you forgot.” Professor Grossberg said with a raised eyebrow and smile. A few students smiled and Wright weakly followed suit. He doubled down, though. Bluffing, as usual.
“I guess even the best of us have our off-days?”
“Well. You don’t sound very sure. Well why don’t I give you a chance to change your answer. Was the Justice conflating two separate issues or not? Was what the justice called ‘duty’ really ‘proximate cause?’”
Professor Grossberg liked to do that. Lead the students to answer one way and then cast doubt on that choice. Frequently students were insecure and backed out of their original answers, especially when asked questions that appeared nowhere in the text. Sometimes, it was the right choice, and other times, the wrong choice. For Professor Grossberg, it was not enough to know the answer. One had to be staunch in knowing or believing one’s answer, capable of withstanding doubts thrown like darts. That was one of the lessons of law school: to learn knowledge with conviction, and if one lacked knowledge, then to pretend to have conviction. Wright was not so good with the first, but quite a bit better at the second.
“I stand by my answer, Professor.” Wright said. A few titters went through the class as Wright again doubled down on what seemed like a bad answer. Wright smiled though and seemed to suddenly swell with confidence. Miles felt his opinion as to the “right answer” waver. So okay, the opinion did read a little strange, but surely the Judge couldn’t be wrong about something so rudimentary? Would they even let an opinion stand if it was wrong in some way? Wouldn’t there be a footnote in the case book if that was the case? Miles was feeling uncertain and didn’t like it.
“Very, very bold, Mr. Wright,” Professor Grossberg said, smiling. “Well let’s back up a bit. What are the facts of this lovely case? Let’s ask Mr. Edgeworth. He is quick with the facts.” All eyes turned to him now and he felt his pulse race, delighted to answer.
“Of course, Professor. A lady stood waiting on a train platform. The previous train was just leaving when two men, late, rushed by her to make the train. One made it easily, but the other, holding a package, was almost too slow. A platform guard gave him a push, which assisted him to getting on the train. His package, though, was jostled such that it fell onto the tracks and exploded, for the package was full of fireworks. The explosion caused a reverberation, and on the platform, a tall scale fell right on the lady waiting for her train, injuring her.”
“Good. And what does Judge Cardozo have to say?”
“He says that the platform guard, and therefore the railroad company, is only responsible for the plaintiff’s injuries if at the moment he shoved the man, he owed a duty of care to the woman. He found no such duty, for the accident was clearly unpredictable. When an accident is unpredictable, no one owes the victim a duty of care.”
“Hmm, that is indeed what Judge Cardozo says,” Professor Grossberg said.
Miles suddenly had a bad feeling.
“And what do you think, Mr. Edgeworth? Is Cardozo correct?”
Urgh, Miles could tell that Professor Grossberg was hoping he’d choose the opposite answer as Wright to make it a teaching moment. Only one of them could be right in that case, and Miles was suddenly not sure at all that Cardozo was correct. Why would Grossberg have asked this question if Cardozo were correct? It seemed extremely likely that Cardozo was wrong, but for the life of him, Miles couldn’t figure out why. Cardozo’s analysis seemed sound enough! He felt stuck between giving what was probably the right answer and what was probably the wrong answer that he thought was right. He paused. Then he looked at Wright’s face, and it was bright, excited, nervous, and anticipatory all at once. Competitiveness suddenly surged through him.
“I believe, Professor,” he said, primly and authoritatively, “that Cardozo is absolutely correct.” He noticed many students nodding their heads along with him, including Diego. Not that he cared, but it was slightly gratifying. Mia, though, he noticed suddenly, was smirking.
“Dissent!” Professor Grossberg trilled, gesturing between Wright and Miles like it was a game show. “We have disagreement! Why, Mr. Wright, how would you respond to Mr. Edgeworth?”
“I would say that Mr. Edgeworth is looking only what is on the surface, instead of looking deeper. Perhaps he simply doesn’t want to see?”
The look Wright sent him is strange and knowing, and Miles just knew he was talking about something else. Annoyance rippled through him. Diego peered at him questioningly.
“Speaking in riddles doesn’t suit you, Wright,” he ground out.
“Mr. Edgeworth, did you perhaps fail to read the dissenting opinion?” Wright was glowing, smiling smugly.
“Of course I read the dissenting opinion! Twice. It is the dissenting opinion because it failed to become the majority opinion. Ergo, it has no legal force. And furthermore,” he added, “the dissent doesn’t claim that Cardozo is wrong, but his opinion too narrow. The dissent claims there that the railroad is liable to the victim, a patently ridiculous final conclusion given the facts of the case. It was an accident, completely unforeseeable.”
“But--”
“Surely you agree, Wright, that the accident was unforeseeable? What platform guard could predict that the package contained fireworks that would go off? That the explosion would tilt a scale just so, such that it would fall upon and injure the plaintiff? Unless they could see the future, how could the railroad have a duty to protect the plaintiff from an event such as that?”
“Hold it!” Wright exclaimed. “Yes, exactly right, the accident was unforeseeable! But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a duty of care. The duty does exist, just as you have a duty of care to all pedestrians when you’re driving that car of yours around like a maniac regardless if you can imagine every scenario, improbable or not, where you might crash into a pedestrian!”
The class gave a collective ooooh. Miles was becoming increasingly flustered. “I! I do- not-”
“It is proximate cause that is the issue here! Not duty. A railroad has a duty to prevent harm to its patrons! But if the railroad employee did not cause the harm, then the railroad could not have breached its duty.” At that, Wright slams the table enthusiastically, causing Mia to jump imperceptibly. “So you see! The railroad company cannot escape its duty to have a safe platform and its duty to train its employees well. But it was not the railroad company that truly caused the incident! It was bad luck with the contents of the package and the very unlucky positioning of the plaintiff!” A few students were watching Wright’s performance with slack jaws.
“You forget, Wright, that the dissent did ultimately find that the railroad either caused the injury or breached its duty. How do you reconcile that clearly erroneous conclusion?”
“Easy!” Wright declared. “The dissent is wrong as well!”
At that, several disbelieving laughs came from the class, snapping Miles back to reality. He quickly glanced at Professor Grossberg, but he looked delighted.
“What? Again? Two wrong judges in the same opinion? And you think you know better? You made such a big fuss about the dissent at first!”
Wright had the gall to look a little sheepish. “Well, things change! The dissent was right that it wasn’t about duty, but it was also wrong about the final conclusion. There should have been no liability against the railroad company because while they set forth the events that caused the injury, it can’t be said that they proximately caused her injury. The circumstances were far too unconnected. They had a duty of care, but they didn’t breach it. The injury was caused by sheer chance.”
Miles just sputtered. It… was indeed logically sound? But honestly Miles was fairly turned around at this point. He wondered if they got so down in the weeds that somehow Wright had twisted his side to look right. Maybe they were saying the same things, but with different words? He turned to Professor Grossberg. Surely the man would actually teach after all this?!
“Bravo! What spectacular discourse! What a great display of how a good old-fashioned argument can help both sides reach the truth!”
Professor Grossberg all but skipped to the white board, uncapping a marker. “Indeed! Mr. Wright is correct! Despite Judge Cardozo’s outstanding reputation, tort scholars agree that he mixed up duty and proximate cause. Few care for the difference, and in a courtroom it hardly changes a jury’s determination if an attorney misspeaks, but, there are cases where such a distinction has life or death consequences…”
Miles quickly realized that lecture had officially begun, and he furiously started taking notes. He was glad that Professor Grossberg didn’t spend a lot of time pointing out that Miles was wrong, choosing instead to simply and quickly praise Wright, but he couldn’t help but feel burning embarrassment and angry confusion. How?! How could have lost to Wright? How could Wright have seen something he didn’t? How could he have noticed something no one else, maybe with the exception of Mia, had noticed? How did it start off as Wright’s typical hopeless bluffs before turning into the right answer? An answer that seemed so unlikely and in contradiction to the Judges’ opinions?! Did he just… stumble upon the answer? Or was there something to Wright? Something in the way he thought or looked at the world that lead him to the right answer? It just… couldn’t be.
One thing was for sure though. This was the first time Miles “lost” a debate in class. He swore it would be the only time.