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It was a familiar argument but he and Edgeworth, he supposed, were nothing if not argumentative.
Phoenix couldn’t understand why Miles couldn’t see that he was a good person worthy of friendship and devotion.
Well, if he was being completely honest maybe he could understand, a little. He had seen him in his undefeated demon prosecutor days, had even almost been an innocent victim of his unstoppable drive to win at any cost but he wasn’t that man anymore. He had turned his life around and in Phoenix’s opinion he gave too little credit to the remarkableness of that act.
He also held himself fully accountable for adopting a dangerous creed when he had been fed it intentionally and maliciously since he was a lost and grieving child. Which in Phoenix’s view made him more a victim of brainwashing and shifted some of the blame for his action on to the despicable man who had turned him into what he had ultimately become.
He had said all this before though and it didn’t seem to break through to him or sway him at all. He seemed utterly determined to hold himself to account for every sin, real or perceived, of his life and seemed to fully accept the idea that no amount of good he did in this world could make up for the wrongs he had once committed.
Whereas Phoenix held him as even more incredible and inherently good a person for being led astray and still finding his way back to goodness and truth, for forging his own hard-won morality and making the world a much better place for it. Phoenix sighed wondering how many times they would tread over this familiar ground before someone gave in to a change of opinion.
Probably a lot more than this since they were both stubborn as hell and Phoenix for one would retread the same arguments over and over for the rest of his life if it meant helping convince Miles to see himself with a fraction of the wonder and adoration with which Phoenix saw him.
At least it was a nice afternoon with the sunlight filtering into Phoenix’s office and although arguing the morality of his life was not the most ideal way to spend it, it was still time spend with Miles outside of a life or death trial situation which Phoenix always appreciated.
Plus, Phoenix believed that part of Miles wanted to listen to Phoenix, wanted to be convinced, because he kept bringing it up with him knowing what would happen and he did so most often in places like this, where he could leave at anytime, yet he rarely ever did, at least not before they had come to a complete stalemate.
He had just finished discussing the note which was Phoenix’s least favorite part. He felt the way Edgeworth had left things for his little sojourner of self-discovery was in many ways indefensible and it had hurt him very deeply so he somewhat resented being put in a position to defend that act. That’s probably why Edgeworth always included it in his laundry list of compelling sins because it was the one Phoenix usually took the most personally. Today though he had mostly stuck to complimenting how much he had grown since then and telling him he was certain he wouldn’t do that now. Edgeworth insisted he was still capable of such casual cruelty and Phoenix shrugged so they had left it at that.
Before Edgeworth began to bring up another of his list of misdeeds Phoenix cut in with one of his more heroic actions. Usually after the note he would talk about Edgeworth’s role in saving Maya when he returned. It was the natural progression, but Phoenix’s gut was telling him to mix it up today and Phoenix could usually count on his gut so he shifted gears.
“And what about the class trial?” He asked skipping to Miles first kindness towards him the one that started it all. “Doesn’t that day count towards your true character?”
“I really wish you would stop bringing up the class trial,” Edgeworth said raising a hand to his forehead.
“You know I won’t though. It was such a beautiful kindness and meant the world to me and I think it is a better indicator of your true nature than any cold trauma response von Karma coaxed out of you after.”
Phoenix waited wondering what move Edgeworth would make next. He suspected since he brought von Karma up directly he would point out Phoenix’s habit of attributing all of his good deeds to himself and all his bad deeds solely to his former mentor. However, it was also likely he would say something along the lines of how small a school trial was in the scheme of things or perhaps how he was only doing what he saw as his duty from what his father had taught him.
To Phoenix’s surprise though he didn’t say any of those aggravating familiar things instead he looked up at him slowly something very sad and shockingly vulnerable in his expression, and said voice low barely above a whisper, “You don’t understand the whole truth about the class trial.”
Phoenix blinked. He had never said anything like that ever before and if it were true wouldn’t he have by now? They had argued about this so many times and if Edgeworth knew anything it was how to press an advantage in an argument or use some hither to unknown fact to make Phoenix look a fool. Despite the impossibility of it though Phoenix knew Edgeworth was usually not one for bluffing and he was learning to read the subtleties of his expressions very well and right now he seemed absolutely serious.
“What would I not understand?” Phoenix asked, “I was there.”
Edgeworth sighed looking away and reaching for his opposite arm which Phoenix knew was never a good sign.
“I didn’t want to tell you, you hold that memory so dear and truth be told I like the picture it paints of me the way you remember it but…”
Phoenix didn’t like the sound of that at all. He knew Edgeworth never liked when he brought up the class trial, but he thought it was because he had to face his past dreams that were so cruelly snatched away from him or because it was the best argument for him being fundamentally a good person which he seemed unable to accept. It had never occurred to him that Miles would remember that day differently. That he would see himself as anything less than the kind hearted brave savior Phoenix saw him as that day and many of the days since.
He waited for the next words breath held in his lungs.
“But the truth is it was not the altruistic act that you remember. I didn’t speak up simply because it was the right thing to do. I did it in fact for deeply selfish reasons.”
Phoenix shook his head uncomprehending. That didn’t make any sense. He still remembered the feelings of that day the isolation and despair when everyone turned on him, they still felt sharp in his heart almost as much as they did when he was a child getting his very first taste of how cruel the world really could be. He remembered the relief too and the joy of someone standing up for him of Miles reaching out to show he wasn’t a criminal, wasn’t alone, and didn’t have to bear the allegations of his classmates as truth just because they demanded it. It was a core memory for him and he didn’t think anything Miles could say would taint the memory or the immense gratitude he felt towards him that day or the warm feeling towards him he had carried ever since.
“What? How could it possibly be selfish?”
“I didn’t do it to save you or because it was right or even because of my father, he gave me the language but the truth is I just, I just wanted you to notice me. I took an opportunity, and I manipulated you into being my friend.”
Phoenix’s brow wrinkled in confusion but when he tried to meet Miles’ eyes he was startled to see he looked absolutely sorrowful and a million miles away.
It was the first day of fourth grade and Miles was feeling good. He liked learning and liked the routine that school offered and was excited for the new challenges of another grades lessons and to make his father proud. His father who had already told him how handsome he looked in his school outfit with his new bow tie, so he was feeling pretty good about that too.
His father took a picture of him and looked almost teary eyed as he helped him pack his bag for the first day. He sat him down before they headed out and told him it might be a good idea to talk before school started. He seemed a little uncharacteristically nervous.
“Don’t worry father,” Miles assured him buoyed up by his good mood, “I’m going to make you proud.”
His father’s eyes crinkled at the corners at that, “I know you will Miles, you always do,” Miles beamed at that, “But…”
Miles quirked his eyebrow it was not like his father to trail off at a loss for words.
“There are other things that are important about school besides good grades and learning.”
“Like what?” Miles asked confused.
“Like social skills.”
“Oh,” Miles said understanding, “No need to worry about that, my teachers always say I’m unfailingly polite.”
“Yes,” Gregory smiled at him reassuringly, “You are and that’s wonderful but I thought maybe this year you might try to perhaps see if you could get along with some of the other children your own age. Maybe make some friends.”
Miles’ heart sank at that. He didn’t think you went out to make friends it seemed mostly like some kids had friends and some kids just didn’t and Miles, well, he didn’t. He got along well enough with the other children. He didn’t have any enemies at least and was rarely picked on but he was an only child who spent most of his life talking with adults and had always gravitated more towards the teachers than any other students. He had thought about what it might be like to have friends his own age certainly, but he always assumed if it was meant to be it would just happen, perhaps when his classmates began to mature a little more. He didn’t think he would have to make a concerted effort to find and make friends and he feared he might not be good at the task. He looked into his father’s eyes though a little embarrassed and a little hopeful and he knew he would have to at least try.
“Okay father,” he agreed voice small, “I will try.”
It wasn’t until a few weeks later over dinner that his father asked again to see how his efforts in that particular arena had been going.
Miles shook his head a little forlornly, “I have been trying father I did a comprehensive assessment on each of my new classmates but I’m afraid none of them were deemed compatible.”
His father blinked at him a moment and Miles squirmed not able to read his expression but hoping it wasn’t disappointment.
He had tried!
As unfamiliar as the situation was, he had resolved to give it his all and spent time observing each of his classmates to identify a possible potential friend. Some of his classmates he dismissed almost immediately like Frederick, Larry, and Mo who were all loud and completely immature. Most other kids he tried to at least entertain the possibility of but very few met his standards even at a cursory examination.
He had thought for a time that one girl in his class, Clarissa, who favored green in her wardrobe and was always dressed neatly, might be a good match. She also excelled in most subjects and seemed to take her lessons seriously which Miles thought might make her compatible. Unlike Miles though, she seemed to get along with others well and was usually surrounded by a gaggle of other girls praising her skills and effort. She didn’t seem to be close to any of them though and Miles had thought perhaps she, like him, found a lot of her classmates lacking in their dedication and the two of them could become friends. When he had approached her though one day at recess, she had laughed at him making fun of his outfit and he had retreated immediately making a final note on her cue card that said, ‘very impolite bordering on rude. Not compatible,’ and left it at that.
His father placed a hand on his arm and drew his attention back to the present moment. “I’m really proud of you for trying Miles, I appreciate that it is not easy, but I worry that perhaps you are going about this in a bit of a, um, clinical way.”
“What do you mean?” Miles asked hating that his father didn’t seem satisfied with his efforts even though he had worked so hard on them.
“Just that friendship isn’t always about how compatible you are on paper sometimes, even if someone is very different from you, they can still be a good friend. It’s good to expose ourselves to different kinds of people and ideas.”
Miles wanted to protest but bit his tongue. He didn’t understand how one was supposed to go about this endeavor at all and what his father had said just now only confused him further. He got a hold of his frustration after a moment though and asked, “If it’s not about how compatible you are as people then how do you know who would be a good friend?”
His father moved his hand slightly squeezing Miles’ shoulder in a reassuring way, “It’s more of a feeling than a set of requirements.”
Miles felt his face scrunch at that, feelings were often out of his depths, hard to understand or quantify.
His father clearly noticed his distress leaning in to make his face level with his, “It’s okay Miles these things are not easy and I know you tried your best I’m not expecting any specific results but I just want you to promise you will be open to it if the opportunity arises to connect with any of your peers. Can you do that for me?”
Miles’ heart was still full of trepidation, but he nodded, for his father he would try.
A few more weeks passed and despite his promise Miles found it easier to retreat into his schoolwork where he easily excelled. He spent most of his break times chatting with his teacher or reading a book alone. Worry about disappointing his father led him to occasionally join in a few games with some of the other children but although they usually accepted him into their fold without question no connections or mysterious friendship feelings arose from the encounters. He was about to give up on the whole open mindedness endeavor entirely when finally something changed.
It happened one afternoon while Miles was helping the teacher by handing out worksheets to his fellow classmates. He was also listening to her speak and was surprised when she said they were ahead of schedule for the day and that if they could finish this worksheet in class together then they would have no homework for the weekend.
The boy he was currently handing a paper to smiled wide at this news and Miles found himself momentarily frozen to the spot taking in the bright gesture. He didn’t know exactly what it was about the toothy grin of the boy that captivated him so but he couldn’t help but stare and a strange but not unpleasant feeling began to take root inside him, like little bubbles of warmth rising up from his stomach to his chest. He worried for a second that something might be wrong with him but then he remembered what his father had told him ‘It’s more a feeling than a set of requirements’ perhaps this was the feeling he meant. Perhaps Miles was experiencing a friendship feeling.
“Thanks,” the boy said taking the paper from Miles still frozen hand and snapping him out of his reverie.
“Y-you’re welcome,” Miles said taking in the boys face once more, not smiling widely now but still bright and pleased, before forcing himself to move down the line and finish handing out the worksheets.
He couldn’t remember that boys name but he would have a cue card about him in his friendship file at home and he would look him up as soon as he got the chance.
When he got home he raced up to his room. Luckily he had, had the foresight to jot down a brief physical description of each classmate along with their name and the observations he had made about their suitability to be his friend and it didn’t take him long to find the one he was looking for.
Phoenix Wright: dark spiky hair, usually wears shorts and a graphic tee-shirt, knobbly knees.
That was him the boy with the smile! Although Miles eyes had been glued to his face today the hair description was unmistakable.
He skipped ahead to the factors that had made him eliminate Phoenix from the pool of possible friends.
Fell asleep in math class, doesn’t seem dedicated to his studies, not excited to visit the library, seems on friendly terms with Larry who was classified as a definitive no.
That wasn’t so bad surely. Perhaps he had trouble sleeping, that could explain his inattentive behavior in math class and just because he had not been overjoyed to visit the library one time didn’t mean he would hate reading, one of Miles favorite pastimes, and even if he did his father had told him explicitly it could be a good thing to have friends with different interests than your own.
The Larry thing too seemed a little harsh in retrospect just because Phoenix was friendly with someone Miles didn’t imagine himself to be very compatible with didn’t mean that they couldn’t be friends, maybe Phoenix was just friendly.
Miles read over the cue card a few more times and then thought once more about the captivating bright smile he had seen today and made a decision.
He would befriend Phoenix Wright.
That would make his father proud and perhaps if they were friends he would sometimes smile like that at Miles, maybe even if he was lucky because of him and not just around him. He got a squirmy warm feeling in his tummy thinking about it.
Another friendship feeling!
Maybe he could be good at this after all.
Monday morning Miles was at school early. He snapped his head up from his book each time another student entered the room a small amount of disappointment running through him each time, when he saw it wasn’t Phoenix.
When he did arrive, Miles hurried over to him thinking to strike up a conversation as he hung up his coat. He must have been quiet in making his way over though as when Phoenix looked up from his task to see him he startled.
“Oh! um hi,” he said recovering.
“Hi,” Miles replied suddenly tongue tied.
Phoenix looked at him expectantly, but Miles realized with horror he didn’t know what to say. He had been excited about the possibility of finally knowing who he wanted to be his friend but he didn’t really understand exactly how to go about actually befriending him. He had tried once to ask straight out and it had ended poorly. Yet he had failed to formulate another strategy.
How could he be so unprepared? It was very unlike him and as the seconds ticked by with Phoenix looking at him waiting for him to say something his panic swiftly increased to the point where when the teacher called out telling everyone to get settled at their desks for the day Miles felt relieved.
“Okay, bye,” he said making his way back to his desk to wallow in his own mortification about what had just happened and how utterly out of his depth he felt. He spent the rest of the day avoiding Phoenix embarrassed about how their conversation that morning had gone.
He spent that evening researching and strategizing about how to do better tomorrow. Much to his dismay though his father noticed his frantic preparations and asked him about what he was up too. Miles tried to play it off as nothing, but his father seemed to sense his embarrassment and got even more curious.
“I’ve chosen a friend,” Miles finally confessed voice a little louder than he meant it to be and Gregory smiled at him.
“That’s wonderful news Miles. I’m so glad you kept an open mind.”
“Yes, you were right father I got the friendship feeling.”
Gregory quirked an eyebrow, “You like being around this person?”
“Yes,” Miles said a small smile creeping onto his face at the memory of standing next to Phoenix’s desk with the paper.
To his surprise his father swept him into a hug at that. “That’s wonderful Miles!”
He looked up at him pleased but a little confused about this level of reaction. Had his father perhaps been downplaying how much he wanted Miles to make a friend?
“What are you researching then?” Gregory asked cutting into Miles’ worries.
“Well, I have made up my mind but…” he faded off thinking of his mortification that morning, of marching up to Phoenix and then having absolutely nothing to say to him.
“But what?” His father prompted gently.
“But I don’t know what to say to him to get him to be my friend.”
“Hmm,” Gregory put a hand to his chin in thought, “Well sometimes these things have a way of progressing naturally.”
Miles felt himself pull a face at that. If things kept progressing naturally he would simply be sitting by himself with a book for the rest of fourth grade and quite possibly forever.
“Okay, okay,” Gregory relented, “We are looking for the more direct approach.” Miles nodded at that, “Have you tried asking if the two of you can be friends?”
“No,” Miles shook his head relieved it could be so simple, “I should just say we should be friends?”
“Maybe,” Gregory replied, “Or, I would like to be your friend.”
Miles nodded it was the same request, but his father made it sound softer more polite somehow and he liked the sound of it.
“Phoenix I would like to be your friend.” He practiced and his father smiled bright and wide and at the sight Miles promised he would say that to him tomorrow.
“Okay,” Gregory nodded, “And just know I’ll be so happy with you for trying whatever your classmate says in reply.”
Miles nodded but that sent a little bit of worry through him. Did his father think Phoenix would say no, that maybe Phoenix would not want to be his friend, that he might be rude to him as Clarissa had been? Miles had sort of thought since he had followed his feeling, as his father had suggested, that things might work out better this time but what if Phoenix didn’t get the same feeling too?
Miles did not sleep very well that night tossing and turning and wondering how things might go tomorrow.
Miles waited until lunch break this time not wanting to startle Phoenix as he put away his bag or be interrupted once more by their teacher. He practiced the words to say all morning, ‘Phoenix, I would like to be your friend.’
It seemed simple enough but as the lunch bell grew closer and closer Miles found himself much more nervous than excited.
On the break he stared at Phoenix across the playground. He was sitting alone making piles of rocks and knocking them over. Miles knew if he didn’t do it now he would likely chicken out and his pride would not allow such a thing, not after he had told his father he would speak about it today, so he walked over towards him and made sure to step loudly and firmly so as not to startle him again.
Phoenix stood as Miles approached him smiling a little, nothing like the brilliantness of the other day but soft and a little confused.
“Hi,” he said in way of greeting.
Miles just nodded still running his line through in his head.
Phoenix I would like to be your friend,
Phoenix I would like to be your friend,
Phoenix I would like to be your friend.
“Phoenix,” he started voice much too small, “I…”
Phoenix cocked his head at him waiting patiently for the words that for some reason still would not come. After and embarrassingly long beat of silence Miles blurted out, “I noticed you have something in your teeth. I thought you would want to know.”
“Oh,” Phoenix said darting his eyes away in embarrassment and running his tongue frantically over his teeth. “Did I get it?” he asked after a moment baring his teeth at Miles in a strange mockery of his perfect smile.
“I, yes.” Miles said shame making it hard for him to look Phoenix in the eye, “much better.”
“Thanks,” Phoenix said closing his lips again.
“You’re welcome,” Miles managed to say before he turned and ran. He didn’t know where he was going but he knew he couldn’t stand there anymore and talk to Phoenix, not when everything he meant to say got stuck somewhere between his brain and his mouth. Not when every interaction he had with him left Miles awash with shame and embarrassment and a sinking feeling in his stomach he didn’t understand.
He felt awful the rest of the day and did his best to ignore the feeling and not look at Phoenix.
Just when he thought the day was finally done and he could put this whole embarrassing debacle behind him he saw his father waving to him from the school gates.
“What are you doing here?” Miles asked bewildered.
“I got off work early so I thought I would come and pick you up.”
Miles wanted to feel happy, as he normally liked it when he got to spend more time with his father, but he had a sneaking suspicion that this visit wasn’t as coincidental as his father made it seem.
His suspicions were all but confirmed when he climbed into his father’s car and the first thing he asked was, “How did it go with your potential friend today? Phoenix, was it?”
Miles nodded words sticking uncomfortably in his throat. His father seemed so invested in this and Miles’ heart clenched painfully at the thought of disappointing him.
Gregory looked at him expectantly and Miles, after swallowing a few times, managed to clear his throat enough to say, “Good.”
That hadn’t been what he’d meant to say but apparently today, of all days, there was a disconnect between his brain and his mouth. He really didn’t want to lie to his father though so he opened his mouth to try again but before he could he caught sight of his father’s pleased expression smile wide and face relaxed and relieved at Miles words and he realized he couldn’t take it back.
“Yes? It went well then?”
Miles nodded again as his father, still blissfully ignorant, pulled out of his parking spot and turned his attention to the road.
“Yes, or um that is, I think so.” Miles managed to say after a moment.
“Well, what did he say?”
Miles was glad his father’s observant eyes were on the task of driving because he squirmed at bit at having to substantiate his lie.
“He didn’t say anything at first,” Miles said stalling for time trying to imagine how Phoenix would have responded if Miles had actually said what he had meant to say. How would Miles have wanted him to respond?
“Then he smiled.” Miles said voice a little wistful even to his own ears remembering that brilliant smile and how much he had wanted it to be directed at him.
“That’s a good sign,” his father added sounding really happy about it.
“Yes, I thought so too,” Miles agreed, “and at the end of the conversation he did thank me.” That at least was true.
“That sounds really good. I’m so happy for you Miles. Do you think you might start spending some time together then?”
“Yes, I think we will because that’s what friends do, right father?”
“Right,” his father agreed readily.
Miles knew it would be best to correct the situation. Tell his father the truth and really ask Phoenix to be his friend. Yet the thought of it, how he had clammed up twice, and how he had lied to his father made his stomach queasy and so he found himself most often avoiding thinking about it. He tried to give his father short, vague, and pleasant answers when he asked about his friend and at school he tried to avoid ever interacting with Phoenix.
That didn’t stop him from watching him though. He’d often find himself in a quiet corner of the school yard where he could see Phoenix clearly and sit down with a book. He’d pretend to read but mostly he’d watch the other boy. He told himself it was to learn more about him in case his father asked questions but mostly it was so he could imagine what his days might be like if Miles wasn’t a coward and they really were friends. That and to catch a glimpse of his perfect smile and wonder what it would feel like if he smiled that way at him. He probably would never know since he got so tongue tied around the boy and every time he looked Miles’ way he hid his face quickly in his book.
Despite the discomfort of the situation, it all seemed to be going well he was still excited about school and learning and his father seemed relieved he had made a friend. Everyone was happy, or so he thought until he emerged from his room one night after a nightmare to seek comfort from his father and accidentally overheard him on the phone with someone.
“I’m still worried about him.” Miles froze out of sight knowing somehow deep down that he was the person his father was worrying about. “Yes, he has been trying to make friends but I’m starting to worry the one he’s mentioned is a bit made up.”
A silence followed where Miles knew somewhere in the far reaches of his mind that he should go. His father didn’t want him hearing this and it hurt for him to hear but he was frozen to the spot. The forefront of his mind was preoccupied with the distress caused both by the fact his father did not trust him and even more devastatingly by the fact he was right not to.
“Well, it’s just the little things you know.” His father continued oblivious to Miles’ frozen presence just out of sight. “He has a ridiculous name, Phoenix, and Miles described his hair as sounding very strange and cartoonish. Not to mention everything he describes them doing together is something you could easily do alone.”
Another pause and then his father continued, “No, no, I know it’s normal for kids to have imaginary friends, but it seems more like a cover up then something he’s doing because he enjoys it. I worry perhaps I pushed him too hard to make friends in the first place.”
Miles found himself blinking rapidly trying to fight against a weird prickling in his eyes.
“I know, I know, everyone has their own pace I just worry. I think I’m the only person of importance in his life and although I love having him all to myself, I worry it’s not healthy for a growing boy.”
The pain behind his eyelids worsened and suddenly that was it. Miles couldn’t hear anymore. His feet finally unstuck from their place on the floor and he hurried, as fast as he could without making a noise, back to his room. Once the door was shut behind him the prickling in his eyes spilled over into actual tears.
His father knew he had lied. Worse he thought Miles had made Phoenix up entirely and that he was nothing but a figment of his imagination. Perhaps worst of all he didn’t think the way he lived his life was healthy for a growing boy. He moved quickly to his bed pushing his face into the pillow to muffle his sobs. He really didn’t want his father, who was already worried about him, to hear that he was crying.
The next day he was tired and still mortified about what he had overheard the night before. He resolved silently to try harder. To gain Phoenix’s friendship for real, whatever the cost, so he could show his father he was real, and that Miles was a normal growing boy just as healthy as any other, more so even.
He stewed about it at school trying desperately to formulate a plan, but the truth was he was just as clueless about forming friendships as he was when this whole thing started. He didn’t know why he kept getting tongue tied or how to stop it.
It didn’t help his mood that someone also chose that day to steal his lunch money. Normally he would have told his father and it would have been easily replaced but after what he had overheard last night he was worried that if he told him he would go from thinking Miles was sad and friendless to thinking he was pathetic and actually being bullied, so he resolved to keep it to himself hoping the teacher and the school would locate the money and the culprit for him.
It was just his luck, Miles lamented the next day, that the person most likely to have stolen his money was the very boy he had hoped so fervently to befriend.
He felt his lip quiver as the teacher singled out Phoenix Wright as the boy who had stolen from him. Was it really possible that the boy with the shining smile, who gave him the only friendship feeling he had ever felt, not only didn’t care for him but would go so far as to do him harm? Miles had trouble believing it yet no one else seemed to have any trouble singling him out immediately and publicly shaming him for what he had done to Miles. His fathers voice told him in the back of his mind that so far it could only be what they suspected he had done to Miles, as opportunity was thus far the only basis for their case and it seemed lacking in evidence.
As he watched the proceedings though he got more and more uneasy. He had spied many times on Phoenix and had seen his face make a lot of strange and interesting expressions but he had never seen him like this, singled out and afraid. It didn’t suit him at all Miles found and his stomach lurched oddly as tears began rolling down the boy's face.
He wanted to look away but the teacher directed Phoenix to go to Miles and apologize so he didn’t get the chance.
Then Phoenix was in front of him giving Miles his full attention as Miles had so desperately wanted him to do, but it was so wrong with his bright face scrunched in pain and sorrow. Miles took in a breath realizing all of a sudden that he had an opportunity in front of him. If he could turn this around maybe just maybe Phoenix would be grateful to him. Would want to be his friend. Would smile again.
Miles raised an objection, using the words he’d learned from his father. He questioned the ethics of this class trial and questioned how they could know for sure it was Phoenix if they had no evidence.
Larry chimed up too and although Miles felt some suspicion as to his motivation he still appreciated the support. He was not used to going against his teachers in such a way.
Miles nodded at Larry trying to look confident and then turned his attention back to Phoenix who still stood in front of him. The tears were still drying on his face but he looked so much less distressed then he had a moment ago. He was looking at Miles eyes wide and although he wasn’t smiling the bright smile Miles liked so much he was looking at him with something akin to awe in his expression and Miles decided, bubbles of warmth once more lighting him up from the inside, that that was pretty good too.
Maybe if he had done this right Phoenix might be his friend after all and that thought gave him hope.
Phoenix sat down next to Miles on his lumpy excuse for an office couch and it startled him out of his memories back to the present.
“You just wanted me to take notice?” Phoenix asked confusion etching his features.
“I only did it because I wanted you to be my friend,” he finally admitted hoping it wouldn’t ruin everything but knowing he had to at last tell the truth.
“That doesn’t seem so terribly selfish.” Phoenix offered clearly not understanding yet how Miles’ manipulations tarnished the precious memory.
“It was,” Miles admitted still uncomfortable but not wanting to shirk away from the truth of it now he had finally got up the courage to share.
“Unless,” Phoenix’s expression darkened into one of fear, almost panic and Miles suspected he finally understood. “Did you set me up?” His voice was strained and all of a sudden shaky, “Was the money actually stolen or…”
“No,” Miles shook his head, “I didn’t go so far as to manufacturer the situation just, took advantage of it when it arose.”
“Oh,” Phoenix let out a shaky breath, “That’s okay then.”
“I don’t think it is.”
“So, you wanted a friend and you got one. I don’t think that intention changes how much you saved me that day or the impact it had on me.”
“No, you still don’t understand,” Miles protested. “I didn’t want a friend I wanted you to be my friend and I stood up that day just to make that happen.”
“Well,” Phoenix shrugged, “It worked. It worked really well actually. Maybe you were always a master strategist.”
Miles rolled his eyes. Phoenix could make light of anything it seemed.
“But…” Phoenix continued seeming confused. “Why did you want to be my friend in particular? You’re so…” he trailed off looking Miles up and down, “And I was always…” he trailed off again shrugging.
Oh God. Of course Phoenix would ask. Ask him to share the most mortifying detail that he absolutely didn’t want to dredge up. He didn’t want to share any of this really, but he had dedicated himself now to the truth and there was no point in holding back this part of it.
“My father told me friendship was more about feelings than analytics and you were the only one who gave me a friendship feeling.”
Phoenix quirked a brow at that unable to hide his surprise, “A friendship feeling?” He murmured barely a question.
“Yes,” Miles confirmed looking away in embarrassment, “When I saw your smile.”
Miles could tell without even looking that Phoenix was starting to smile now and despite his overwhelming embarrassment he wanted to catch a glimpse to see if it was mocking, smug, or radiant. Knowing Phoenix, it was probably all three.
To Miles’ surprise, when he finally looked up, it wasn’t how he imagined at all, it was small and almost bashful but no less bright for it. It still caused warmth to bubble up in his chest even all these years later.
“I have another question.” Phoenix stated when their eyes met again.
“Of course, you do,” Miles muttered.
“What does this friendship feeling feel like?”
Miles didn’t know how to answer, even though the feeling was fresh to him, so he squeezed his arm once more to ground himself before speaking. “Like bubbles of warmth I suppose.”
Phoenix’s smile brightened at that widening a little across his face but not losing that oddly bashful edge.
“I’ve had that feeling too,” Phoenix admitted, “But I do have another question.”
Miles didn’t complain this time, didn’t protest, just stared at Phoenix’s face which looked so curious and happy whole attention focused on him and remembering how he had longed back then for just this and how brief the time had been when he’d actually had it.
Hearing no protest Phoenix continued, “Do you get this feeling with all your friends?”
Miles blinked, what could that possibly matter? Yet Phoenix was looking at him intently like the answer was vitally important so he gave it some thought.
Back then no, he hadn’t had any other friends besides Larry who certainly hadn’t given him this feeling but now despite his attempts to keep to himself he had some really good friends besides Phoenix. Franziska was more a sister than simply a friend and they had been thrust together by fate so it made sense she had never given him this feeling. Gumshoe came to mind next among his friends, he had never given Miles this particular feeling just persistently stuck around and was more kind to him than he deserved until Miles had grudgingly accepted him. Kay similarly had wormed her way into his life and his regard and although there was a certain fond feeling he got when thinking of her it was nothing like this. Agent Lang was probably the closest with his predatory grin and persistent nicknames but still when he really thought about it, he did not give him the same feeling Phoenix did, not even close. No one did.
“No,” Miles admitted hesitantly, “I suppose not but what could that…”
He trailed off breath stolen by the force of Phoenix’s joyful smile. It was so wide and radiant in intensity that it was hard to fully process with him sitting right next to him on the couch this closely. Miles had put that smile there he realized with a sudden jolt of emotion and that feeling in his chest intensified from a few lazy bubbles of warmth into a consistent flow of them.
“The thing is,” Phoenix started still exuding a bright joy, “I’ve had that feeling too, but for me it’s not a friendship feeling closer to...” he hesitated slightly biting his lip a second, “A crush.”
Oh.
Oh.
“I,” Miles stuttered still wrestling with the enormity of this realization, “I…”
Phoenix moved shuffling even closer to him on the couch and Miles eyes wide mind frozen could make no move or protest even if he wanted too, and he wasn’t sure that he did.
“I have a confession to make too Miles.” Phoenix quirked his lips now in a more coy manner and Miles felt his pulse increase from his expression, his proximity, and his use of Miles’ first name. “You see the thing is I think I might actually be a very bad person by your logic.”
“What? Don’t be absurd!” What a ridiculous thing to say. Miles couldn’t even entertain the notion.
“I am though, because all of those things I did for you that you seem to hold in such high regard compared to your own actions well, the truth is, they were all selfish acts too.”
Miles hung breathless to his every word trying to understand.
“I didn’t help you just because it was the right thing to do. I did it because I wanted you to notice me again. More than that even I wanted you to…” he trailed off then, raising a hand to hover over Miles’ chest where his heart was hammering and the warm bubbly feeling had increased a hundred-fold from a wave of bubbles to a torrent, uncontrollable, like the pop of shaken champagne.
Phoenix seemed truly at a loss for words now, hand still hovering, face starting to look a little uncertain. Despite his lingering silence though, Miles seemed to understand what he meant, what he couldn’t find the words to say.
“I think I already do,” he confessed his words coming out hushed, practically a whisper. “It’s possible I always have.”
He leaned forward then, just enough to close the distance between his chest and Phoenix’s still hovering hand so he could feel the way his heart was beating a mile a minute, beating Miles belatedly realized, for him.
He had hoped he would smile again, bright and beautiful, just the expression Miles always longed to see. Instead, he looked somewhat overwhelmed, awed even, as he lifted his other hand to Miles’ chin gently urging his face forward to his own. Miles followed the movement eagerly feeling a powerful warmth spread through his chest and face, where Phoenix was touching him, and anticipating, in the last long seconds before their lips met, what that would feel like too.
It felt like coming home. He no longer felt little bubbles of warmth, he felt he was a bubble himself filled to bursting with joy and warmth and the fulfillment of a longing he had lived with so long without truly understanding.
Phoenix pulled away after a few perfect moments and searched his face, for what Miles didn’t know. He wanted to reassure him though, wanted to make him smile once more, so he let go his careful control of his expression and let his own smile, waiting to burst forth from his joy, show on his face. Just like that Phoenix returned the smile nearly blinding him with the brightness of the gesture.
“Okay,” Miles said, word being drawn forth from him, by this beautiful man and his perfect face.
“Okay?” Phoenix asked breathless.
“Okay I’ll try.” Phoenix’s expression of radiant happiness was shadowed briefly as confusion passed over his features, so Miles fought his cloudy mind for more words. “I’ll try to see the good in myself, to not act like I’m beyond all hope of redemption.”
A few seconds ago, Miles would have thought it impossible for Phoenix’s smile to get any wider, any more bright, but he had been wrong. He resolved taking it all in that he would truly try and perhaps even succeed, because if he could make Phoenix Wright smile like that, he knew he couldn’t be all bad after all.
This, Phoenix thought to himself suffused with a soaring heady feeling as he kissed the perfect wry lips of Miles Edgeworth, had to be his favorite way in the entire world to win an argument.