Chapter Text
The warmth from the midmorning sun enveloped Miles as he brought his maroon and ivory teacup to his lips, washing his tongue with Earl Grey. He worked in silence, save for the occasional clink of his ceramic teacup placed gently in its saucer, or the scratch of his burgundy fountain pen on paper. Miles had just completed his last hefty stack of paperwork for the day; last, he needed to check Gumshoe’s investigation report for tomorrow’s trial.
Miles reached for the file, flipping it open. He hoped that today would be one of the rare occasions where he wouldn’t need to send the detective back to the crime scene. Miles was astonished by Gumshoe’s thoroughness. The only thing more unexpected were the pages nestled in the back, attached to the file with a green paperclip.
The first page was a hastily written note. While out investigating, I saw this flier for an event that I thought you might be interested in, sir. Or at least I’ve been told that this was something you’d like.
Miles went to put Gumshoe’s letter aside, formulating how to explain to his subordinate that his focus should be strictly on the investigation, rather than frivolous events, when the image on the second page caught his attention.
He smiled at the heroic image of the Steel Samurai, posed in front of Neo Olde Tokyo. After several moments, Miles’ face fell. He grabbed his office phone in a haste, ready to call Gumshoe in for an interrogation. Miles needed to find the culprit spreading rumors about him being a fan of the Steel Samurai.
He got halfway through dialing Gumshoe’s number before bold letters caught his eye. Steel Samurai Con 2019 is coming to Los Angeles for the first time! Steel Samurai Con! There was one held in Germany six months ago while he was staying there to help Franziska with a case. He abandoned his plans to attend, regrettably, due to her excessive questioning. Would he be free to attend this one?
March 23rd—one day only! The convention was this Saturday. He liked to take his work home with him on the weekends, but he could make an exception.
Steel Samurai photo op and autograph included with VIP pass purchase! (Limited availability). Miles hung up the receiver that he forgot he was still holding. There was someone else he needed to call instead.
“Hey, Edgeworth! I’m surprised to hear from you! Aren’t you usually working or something right now?”
“Erm, yes, but… this is urgent, Maya.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“There’s a Steel Samurai convention coming to Los Angeles this Saturday, and it’s the first to come to this area. They’re offering a Steel Samurai photo opportunity and autograph for purchasers of the VIP pass, but these are very limited. I plan to drive down to the convention center during my lunch break to, hopefully, secure passes. I wanted to ask if you would like to accompany me there since I know you’re such a huge fan as well, and frankly I… I don’t feel comfortable going alone. This would be my first time attending a Steel Samurai event and I don’t want people who know me to be aware that I’m a Steel Samurai fan.”
Maya let out a muffled laugh. “Oh! Of course, I would love to go! You’re paying, right? For the tickets and food?”
He grinned. “I had already planned on it”
“Oh, good then!” Maya said, her smile visible through her tone of voice. “I have to say, I really can’t understand why you’re worrying. Everyone attending this event is going to be a fan. They probably aren’t paying enough attention to anyone else to notice you, let alone if you like the Steel Samurai. Who would care about the frilly guy standing next to you when you’re surrounded by all this cool Steel Samurai merch!?”
“It’s called a cravat, but I understand what you mean. Speaking of that, I don’t plan to wear it to the convention.”
“Really? You're not wearing it? I thought it was attached to your neck! What are you gonna wear then?”
“Very funny, but I think I’ll let it be a surprise. Though, I will say that it’ll be very appropriate for this event.”
“I think I know what you mean. In that case, I have the perfect thing to wear.”
“Alright, well I’m going to take my lunch break now so I can get us the VIP passes. I’ll see you on Saturday.”
“Okay! See you then.”
After navigating busy Los Angeles traffic, Miles pulled into the convention's parking garage. While the travel time was less than ideal, he was prepared, leaving his home early to avoid being late for such an important event. Miles had been looking forward to the convention all week, especially after securing two VIP passes. As a fellow fan of the Steel Samurai, Maya would be good company, and a good excuse, if anyone happened to question why someone like him was at such an event.
Maya was one of the few people aware of his love for the Steel Samurai. They discuss the series at length during their weekly Steel Samurai nights—after that week’s episode finished airing, of course. He wouldn’t be so uncultured as to interrupt such a masterpiece. He could recall nights spent discussing important topics such as the canonicity of MagiSteel, whether or not The Steel Samurai & Pink Princess: Lovers in Neo Olde Tokyo is the worst film in the Steel Samurai saga, or if the Early Summer Rain Jab is a more effective move than the Steel Samurai Sushi Slash.
This was a special occasion, so Miles made sure to dress the part. Instead of his usual suit and cravat, he wore a burgundy t-shirt with the Steel Samurai’s face in the middle. He didn’t own many t-shirts—they were far too casual for his taste—the only ones he had were Steel Samurai merchandise. This would be the first time he would wear any of his shirts in public. He reasoned it would be fine once he entered the convention center. Until then, he covered up his shirt with a gray button-up cardigan. It wasn’t suited for the Los Angeles heat, but he hoped they wouldn’t have to wait long to get inside. Miles paired his t-shirt and cardigan with black slacks and loafers; he didn’t want to deviate too far from how he normally dresses.
Miles headed to the spot where Maya agreed to meet. He offered to pick her up on the way, but she had stayed over Wright’s last night: she chose to take the bus to the convention center instead. He found her waiting to the right of the entrance, leaning against a palm tree.
Maya wore a strapless Steel Samurai-themed dress that had vertical stripes in alternating colors of red and white, aside from the midriff, which was solid red. The Steel Samurai’s head was featured on the lower left of her mid-thigh length dress. Her waist was cinched by an icy blue sash: the same color as the Steel Samurai’s hat. The color of the bodice matched, along with her wedges, which were secured by an ankle strap adorned with a single red gem, similar to the one on the Steel Samurai’s chest. She wore these shoes over her white knee-length stockings.
Miles put a hand up to his forehead, shielding his eyes from the blazing sun. “Are you ready to line up?”
“Almost,” Maya shifted off the palm tree, now standing straight, “I’m just waiting for my breakfast to get here.”
Miles furrowed his brow. “Ah, I thought you would have had something to eat before you left Wr—”
“Sorry, Maya. They didn’t have any breakfast sandwiches at the store, but I grabbed some sausages and hash browns.”
“Wright!” Miles shouted. “What are you doing here!?”
Startled by the volume of Miles' voice, Wright almost dropped the food he was carrying.
Wright flashed him a toothy grin. “What does it look like, Edgeworth? I’m joining the Steel Samurai convention with you two.” He placed Maya’s breakfast into her outstretched hands.
Wright wore the same t-shirt as Miles, except in navy blue. His matching color beanie was decorated with a slightly crooked, iron-on Steel Samurai patch. Dark gray jeans and worn-looking black and white sneakers completed his getup.
Maya dumped the paper from her meal in the nearby trashcan and dusted her hands off, surprising Miles with how quickly she finished her breakfast. “Alright, let’s line up! I can’t wait to get in!” she said, pumping her fists in the air.
People surrounded them in the disorganized line, the crowd’s excitement palpable. Miles picked up bits and pieces of conversation: discussion of the latest episode, plans to check out a MagiSteel panel, and theories on certain surprise guest appearances. He felt the anticipation getting to him, though he could do without the excessive noise.
Someone in the group behind them shoves into him, knocking him forward a bit. He gave them his best glare in return, rewarding him with a mumbled apology. He could do without all these people as well, though he supposes that he should get used to it now: it’ll only get worse once they’re inside.
“How long have we been waiting? It feels like the line is barely moving,” Maya complained, tugging at Wright’s sleeve.
“It takes a while to check everyone’s passes and belongings.” Wright glanced at his watch. “It’s been about forty minutes.”
Miles wiped sweat off his forehead. He started to regret wearing the cardigan but couldn’t take it off yet—especially with Wright there. He didn’t expect to be waiting this long, but he should’ve known better: the Steel Samurai was an incredibly popular show.
“Hey Edgeworth, is everything okay? You haven’t said much since I got here.”
“Nothing is wrong, Wright,” Miles said as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“But…”
“Drop it, Wright.”
“Edgeworth, I’m sorry if you’re upset that I invited Nick without telling you. I figured the more the merrier, you know?” Maya said, biting her lip.
“Of course… that’s not it… it’s just—"
“Edgeworth, if you’re worried that me being here means you’ll be ‘exposed’ as a fan, you don’t have to worry about that—it was obvious ages ago,” Wright said, giving him a lopsided smirk.
Miles recoiled. “Wright don’t be absurd! I’m not here as a ‘fan’! I came here because Maya invited me, and I thought it rude to turn down the offer.”
“Really? Maya told me that you’re the one who told her about the convention.”
“So? What does that prove? I know that she’s a huge fan and thought it would be nice of me to let her know that a convention was coming to Los Angeles.”
“She also told me that you’re the one that got the tickets.”
“The convention center is on the way from the prosecutor’s office and considering that I’m the only one able to drive, I offered to get the tickets. I don’t see what the problem is.”
Wright put his hands on his hips, flashing him a confident smirk. “That still doesn’t explain why you bought two tickets.”
“Honestly, Wright, use a bit of logic.” Miles tapped his finger to his forehead, mirroring Wright’s confident smirk. “I already went to the trouble to go all the way there and get tickets. I purchased one for myself to keep Maya company and to go for the experience. I’m just trying to be a good friend. That is all.”
“Hm, right. So, is that why you bought two VIP passes that include a picture with the Steel Samurai and an autograph?”
Miles jerked back, caught off guard by his argument being destroyed so quickly. “Wright, I am done discussing this with you.”
They were closer to the entrance, but the line wasn’t moving fast enough. Miles wiped sweat off his brow with increasing frequency. His bangs lost their volume, now stuck to his face. He felt disgusting but resolved to keep up this charade for as long as possible.
Wright checked his watch again. “It’s been twenty minutes and the line has barely moved. A lot of fans have come out for this event, huh?”
Miles narrowed his eyes, carefully studying Wright. “Why are you wearing all that anyway?” he said, gesturing at Wright’s attire. “I thought you weren’t a fan.”
“I’m not much of one, but I don’t see the harm in dressing up for the convention. Everyone here is at least partially a fan.”
Miles scanned the crowd. What Wright said was true. Why would anyone attend something like this if they weren’t a fan? After this, would anyone believe him when he claimed he wasn’t? Wright, a respectable lawyer, doesn’t feel shame in openly dressing like that, even when he hardly has any interest in the show. A stark contrast to him, desperately hiding under his (newly) sweat-soaked cardigan, despite his love for the Steel Samurai.
“Why are you wearing that? It must be uncomfortable.” Wright poked at the cardigan clinging to him and frowned. “It’s drenched. Why don’t you take it off until we get inside?”
Miles wiped away a bead of sweat dripping from his hair, preventing it from falling in his eyes. “I’m perfectly comfortable, Wright. Don’t worry about me.”
“If you say so…”
The piercing screech of a megaphone catches their attention moments before the voice of an attendant blares through the crowd. “Alright, everyone! Anyone with a VIP pass will need to start lining up over here for their Steel Samurai photo and autograph!”
Miles startled. “What!? That wasn’t supposed to be for another two hours!”
“Well, good thing you aren’t a fan then. You don’t have to worry about missing it.” Wright smirked at him, clearly taking pleasure in his unfortunate predicament. Miles glowered at him as punishment.
“C’mon, Edgeworth! We can’t miss the best part!” Maya said as she brought her fists up in determination.
“Just go,” Wright said, giving him a warm smile.
Miles pointed his finger at him. “Wright, if you breathe a word of this to anyone, so help me—"
To Miles' dismay, his threat only managed to make Wright chuckle. “Yeah, yeah, have fun you two!”
Miles and Maya posed for their picture in front of a Neo Olde Tokyo backdrop. They were each on opposite sides of the Steel Samurai. Maya beamed and Miles let a rare, genuine smile slip. He took off his cardigan for the photo, gently hanging it over his arm and exposing his Steel Samurai t-shirt underneath. He may wish to keep his love for the Steel Samurai hidden from most of the world, but today he could make an exception.