Chapter Text
Athena stormed out of the office on a Thursday in mid-September, hands running through her hair and justified accusations falling from her lips.
“I can’t pay rent if we don’t take clients!” she had griped, finger pointed in Phoenix’s face. “That’s your job.” Athena had snatched up her briefcase and called the elevator, the clock hands barely past noon. Phoenix made no effort to stop her.
Left with an empty office for the day and no clients on the horizon, Phoenix had felt lost. Embarrassed. It wasn’t even the kind of thing he could call Maya about to have one of their epic bitch-fests, because Phoenix knew in his heart that he was at fault.
Law and the outrageous bluffs that enabled his career had always come naturally to Phoenix. But taking the initiative to make sure things got done around the office was another story. It was harder than ever now that he had a formidable, albeit green, defense attorney under his wing. Perhaps it would be less cruel to simply let Athena go, to free her to find a better mentor who could remember to find her clients.
The following hour had passed in agony as Phoenix stared at his email inbox, trying to will a wealthy socialite to be framed for murder and hear of his name.
His inbox pings with a new email right before he throws in the towel and joins Athena in aggravated exit. Phoenix opens it immediately, lest his unread email count increase to 70.
Maya Fey FW: You’re Invited: Leading Through Law with Dr. Biz Nessman
Nickkkkkk how do u get taken off mailing lists this guy won’t stop emailing me abt his culty lawyer leadership workshop im not even one of you psh :P i think larry is selling our data again
The forwarded email is attached. It takes Phoenix a moment to identify the actual content amidst the mass of flashy marketing graphics.
You are invited to Dr. Biz Nessman’s 3-day leadership intensive, Leading Through Law! This hands-on training has been curated for lawyers who aspire to be changemakers, mentors, and trailblazers in their communities. Join us at Rusty Lake Retreat Center for transformative lectures, real-world simulations, and expansive networking opportunities with two-time Scumpy Award winner Dr. Biz Nessman. Enroll at the link below for our next session beginning September 26.
Nessman’s name inspires nothing more in Phoenix than slight irritation at the books bearing his name and face that have clogged every bookstore’s bestseller shelf for the past year. Titles touting empty promises that took multiple breaths to read aloud, like “Become a Radical Disruptionist: How To Transcend Your Normal With 7 Effective Habits.”
And yet, something possesses Phoenix to click the registration link—just to browse, not to buy. But then there’s a picture, a stock photo of two people in suits high-fiving and smiling, the kind of thing that should be accompanied with Word Art saying “Synergy!” The two look put-together. Like real adults. Reliable.
It shouldn’t be the reason Phoenix clicks “Enroll”, but it is.
—
Kurain Village is a two hours’ train ride out of the city, and The Rusty Lake Retreat Center is only one. So by the time Phoenix has fully digested his eggs, Trucy is safely with Aunt Maya for a long-overdue visit and Phoenix is staring down the front door to the retreat center. He yanks his overstuffed backpack up from where it’s slipping off his shoulder.
The center is nestled in one of the less dense areas of Longwood Forest’s imposing pines. The facade of the building isn’t the same concrete slab he’d imagined fearfully in the days prior. If anything, the log cabin looks more like a miniature ski lodge, the kind he’d expect to see covered in snow with a message of Season’s Greetings. Beyond the main building Phoenix can see a few smaller cabins, lined in a row with a covered walkway connecting them. One final building lies toward the back of the grounds, with jarringly modern details and floor-to-ceiling windows.
The woodsy air fills Phoenix’s lungs easier than LA’s atmosphere ever had. Perhaps all he needed was fifteen minutes in nature to return to the agency a new man. But before he can get cold feet, the door in front of him swings open, and a short man with a bald head is beaming at him.
“Ah, welcome! Come in!” The man steps aside and waves Phoenix in. Phoenix steps over the threshold reluctantly with a fake smile stretched across his face. “I’m so thrilled you’re joining us this weekend. My name is Dr. Biz Nessman.” He holds out his hand, smiling wildly.
“Hi, yeah, Phoenix Wright,” Phoenix responds, shaking the man’s large hand. The front office is smaller than it seems from the outside, and it’s made to feel even more claustrophobic by the stacks of documents and crates that line the walls. The clearest area is the reception desk to Phoenix’s right, with only an ancient computer and equally aged woman sitting behind it.
Dr. Nessman—Biz—pats Phoenix on the back, splitting grin growing more disarming by the moment. “Well, I’m so glad you’re taking the next step in your leadership journey, Phoenix. This is going to be a transformative experience for you. I hope you’re ready to get to work.” The man is far too enthusiastic for Phoenix’s comfort. If it weren’t too late for a refund he would fake an excuse now and hop right back on the train. “You can go ahead and check in with Dot over there, and she’ll give you the keys to your cabin.” Biz points toward the receptionist and Phoenix thanks him.
As Phoenix gives Dot his name and registration number, he hears two more people enter the room and have identical interactions with Biz. The man is seemingly overflowing with pleasure that people have decided to own their leadership journeys—and pay the steep fee for the course.
Dot types at her computer, one key at a time, before smiling back up at Phoenix.
“Okay, Mr. Wright. You’ll be in Cabin 4.” She hands him a key and a pamphlet. “Just as a heads-up, your roommate arrived earlier so he will likely be there when you let yourself in.” Dot smiles up at Phoenix through her Coke bottle glasses.
Phoenix’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and he swallows. “Oh? Okay. That’s great!” There’s far too much enthusiasm in his voice for it to sound natural.
Roommate. That’s something he probably would have been prepared for if he had been able to make it past Dr. Nessman’s nauseatingly self-indulgent About Me section in the course description online.
There’s nothing for it now, though. Phoenix thanks Dot and waves to Dr. Nessman on his way out, the latter still having identical conversations as more business-attire-clad participants arrive.
The crisp autumn air is, quite literally, a breath of fresh air after the stuffiness of the main office. Phoenix wipes his sweaty hands on his pants as he makes his way around to the back of the building. Sticks and leaves crunch under his boots. Phoenix focuses on the sound to keep him from spiraling at the thought of everything he’s just gotten himself into. He could live with an unexpected roommate at the end of the day. After all, he didn’t anticipate spending much time inside his cabin apart from sleeping. But Dr. Nessman’s demeanor had indicated this training might be a bit more serious than he anticipated. And if his classmates arriving in full suits while Phoenix was in sweats was any indication, he was entirely underprepared.
Once he rounds the building, there’s a sign indicating that the clusters of smaller cabins to the left are the residential spaces. Cabin 4 is easier to find than Phoenix hoped, and suddenly he’s in front of the door with nothing left to do but turn the key. God, this guy better not snore.
Phoenix’s key, regrettably, slots into the lock with no issue. He turns the handle and hesitantly opens the door.
He is greeted with the heart-stopping sight of Miles Edgeworth unpacking a suitcase on the far bed.
Miles doesn’t look up immediately, as if removing clothes from his luggage is infinitely more interesting than the man who just entered the room. After five agonizing seconds of Phoenix staring at the side of his friends’ face with his mouth agape, he speaks up.
“Miles.” His voice is laced with mirth.
Miles’ head whips up, his temporary roommate suddenly of interest. “Wright?” The shirt he’s holding drops to the duvet. His mouth hangs open in a way that Phoenix can only describe as cute. He shakes the feeling away. “What in god’s name are you doing here?” Miles asks. Except he emphasizes the you, making it sound like Phoenix is the last person he’d expect to be interested in professional development, and Phoenix’s smile falters slightly.
“Well, what are you doing here?” he counters. Phoenix is genuinely surprised by the man’s presence. The last time he saw Miles was over dinner the night he had signed up for the course, just three days ago. His friend hadn’t brought up his weekend plans at all. To be fair, Phoenix hadn’t, either, but it was unlike Miles to hold back from speaking about work-related activities.
Miles breaks eye contact, casting his eyes toward the oak desk to Phoenix’s right. It’s the only other thing in the small room besides the two full beds, short dresser, and a large window with curtains drawn. The beds are perhaps an arms length apart and draped in pure white linens that clash with the eggshell walls. Through the window all Phoenix can see is thick forest.
“I… happen to be an avid reader of Dr. Nessman’s works. I own his entire collection. I find him to be an intelligent man whose professional interests align with my own.” Miles’ voice is excessively formal, a clear tell. He gestures to the desk where a few of the man’s books sit, ostensibly Miles’ own copies.
Phoenix smirks. “So you’re a fanboy hoping to meet his favorite author.”
“I’m not hoping, Wright, I already have—“ Miles catches himself too late. Phoenix laughs, the sound full of both warmth and teasing, as he steps toward his own bed and lays his backpack down on it. “Anyway, I happened to lull in paperwork and meetings, and as Chief Prosecutor it is of the utmost importance that I remain up-to-date with leadership frameworks and management skills.”
“Lest you lose your natural instinct to be all up in everybody’s business.” Miles’ irate glare makes Phoenix laugh even harder. He refuses to think of the expression as endearing. Phoenix has to spend 2 nights alone with this man, and indulging long-held sentiments is not the way to survive that.
“I am not nosy, Wright. I simply take accountability for the success of each prosecutor under my jurisdiction.” He sniffs and picks up the shirt he had dropped on the bed to fold it. “And if that means daily one-on-one status checks with each of them, then so be it,” he adds nonchalantly.
Phoenix flops down on his own bed, just barely avoiding kicking his backpack off the edge. Staring up at the popcorn ceiling, he sighs. “I’d love to tease you more, but I do have to admit you get results.” Miles hums. The Prosecutor’s office had been on a bit of a winning streak of late. Phoenix can hear him zip up his suitcase. “Perhaps I should take a page out of your book.”
“Nonsense, Wright. Neither of our leadership styles are perfect.” Miles rounds his bed to stand at the side of Phoenix’s, meeting his eyes with a soft look on his face. “We will both have much to learn from Dr. Nessman.” Phoenix half expects him to heave a wistful sigh.
“Sounds like somebody’s got a crush,” Phoenix sing-songs.
Miles splutters, face the color of a ripe tomato. “I—I am—I do not have a crush. On Dr. Nessman.”
Phoenix winks, if only to mask the anxiety stew boiling in his stomach. He tries not to wonder if Miles’ hesitation before adding Nessman’s name was real or imagined. Phoenix isn’t sure if he wants to know if Miles has a crush on anyone. He’s not sure he could handle it if he did. Phoenix stuffs the feeling down. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him.”
“I do not have a crush on him! He’s bald, Wright.”
Phoenix cackles. “Oh, Miles, I never knew you were so vain! He could be the love of your life, for all you know.” Phoenix pretends not to note that Miles’ objection was the man’s lack of hair, not his gender.
As if it were possible, Miles manages to blush even harder. “He’s not—This is ridiculous, Wright.” Miles shakes his head and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear.
Phoenix flashes him a shit-eating grin and sits up on the bed. The growing morning light spills in through the large window behind Miles, casting him in a glowy outline. Despite his scowl, he looks almost ethereal. Certainly angelic, if he's being conservative. It’s going to be a long three days.