Chapter Text
“Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death.”
The words replayed in his head, over and over and over again. Despite saving Miles from his past and his mentor, he still couldn’t save his childhood friend from himself.
The whole reason he became a lawyer in the first place was to meet Miles again. It had been years since he saw that name again. And he didn’t expect it to be paired with the words ‘Demon Prosecutor’. How did he end up being a prosecutor? He always said he wanted to be a defense attorney, just like his father. And he had the skill, the passion, and the soul for it too. Phoenix witnessed this when Miles defended him in that class trial.
There is no sufficient evidence to indict Phoenix Wright for the theft of the lunch money!
He even had the fancy words to go with it. Phoenix had never seen Gregory in action, but he imagined that Miles was just a tiny version of him.
The funeral wasn’t like any he had attended before. Not that he’d been to many, but he’d been to enough to know that this wasn’t how it usually went, with no body to say goodbye to. All they found was an empty bottle of sleeping pills in his office, which, together with the note, was enough evidence to have Miles declared dead in absentia despite the usual 7 year waiting period.
The turnout was meager as well. Ever since Miles had been adopted by von Karma, he had cut off all contact with any family he had left, which wasn’t much to begin with. His mother and grandparents had already passed away even before Gregory’s death, and his aunt had died just before Miles’ own departure to the other side. The entire Edgeworth family had now been wiped out of existence. Von Karma was probably celebrating in hell. The only people attending the funeral were Phoenix, Maya, Gumshoe, Larry, and… a silvery-blue haired girl. She looked to be about the same age as Maya, and had a very similar get up as the prosecutor-turned-murderer. Phoenix was thinking of approaching her, to ask her about her memories and relationship with Miles. But he had already witnessed Gumshoe getting an earful and a few lashes from her whip, so he decided against doing so. (Who brings a whip to a funeral, though?)
The funeral reception was nice. It was being held in an elegant venue and had all kinds of fancy foods with even fancier names Phoenix couldn’t pronounce. He was pretty sure the catering alone for this was more than what he earned in 6 months. There were more waiters than attendees present, making sure the guests were tended to within the second. Whoever organized this had money to burn.
“Hey, Gumshoe.”
“Hey, pal.” Phoenix had never seen the detective so down. Six feet of confidence and loyalty had turned into 3 feet of sadness and 3 feet of grief.
“Do you happen to know who organized all this? I was planning on doing it myself, but I was surprised when I got an invitation instead. Which isn’t bad, I guess. This reception is way fancier than I could ever afford.”
“Oh, that would be Prosecutor von Karma.”
“Von Karma? But wasn’t he already executed?”
“Not that von Karma, pal. That von Karma.” Gumshoe pointed at the silvery-blue haired girl Phoenix saw earlier. “That’s Franziska. She’s Manfred’s daughter and Mr. Edgeworth’s sister. They competed to be the best prosecutor, to be worthy of being von Karma’s successor, but despite that, they really did care about each other as siblings. Neither of them would ever admit it, though.”
Huh. So Edgeworth had a sister. It was nice to see that he did still have some family after all.
Despite being the one to organize all this, she kept to herself in the corner of the room, only occasionally moving to usher a waiter with ‘horse durves’ to her and whipping him when he wasn’t fast enough.
Against his instincts, he decided to go talk to her.
Franziska glared at him from the corner of her eye as he got closer. Before he even got the chance to greet her, he was met with a very warm welcome.
“What do you want, Phoenix Wright?”
How did she know his name? He hadn’t told her yet. He hadn’t even said a single word to her. Not knowing how to respond, he stayed silent.
“You don’t have any idea who I am, do you?”
“Gumshoe told me. You’re Franziska von Karma, Manfred’s daughter.”
Franziska cracked her whip and crossed her arms. “Hmph! I am not merely his daughter, you fool! I am a prodigy prosecutor. Even better than my absolutely foolish fool of a little brother, Miles Edgeworth!”
“…I see.” Phoenix was kind of at a loss for words. Gumshoe wasn’t kidding when he said she wouldn’t admit she actually cared for Miles. You don’t usually organize such a lavish funeral reception for someone you consider a fool. “Nice to meet you. I assume I don’t have to introduce myself?”
Franziska turned her face away from him, as if she couldn’t look him in the eye. “You are Phoenix Wright, the reason my father and my brother are dead.”
Ouch.
I mean, she wasn’t exactly wrong. But man, that stung.
To be honest, he didn’t feel guilty about Manfred’s death at all. He was a murderer, after all. Phoenix wasn’t responsible for his death, he was just responsible for the truth. He got what he deserved.
But being blamed for Miles’ death felt like Franziska twisting the knife that the note had already left in his chest. He was fighting to keep back the tears he had been holding ever since Miles died. “I guess I am. I’m sorry.” Phoenix turned to walk away, desperately wanting to find a place alone to cry.
“I will avenge them, Phoenix Wright! We will face off in court and I will defeat you! You shall pay for what you have done, you hear me?” Franziska yelled after him.
Phoenix turned around to face Franziska again, tears now mixing with frustration. “Did you invite me just to insult me? You don’t think I’m already paying for my actions? My friend is dead.”
“My father is dead!”
“That’s not my fault! He was a fucking murderer! He had it coming, dammit!”
They were practically having a screaming match now. Everyone in the room was staring at them, occasionally exchanging looks with each other trying to figure out what was going on between those two.
“How. Dare. You. I shouldn’t have invited you!”
“Why did you in the first place if you already blamed me for their deaths?”
Franziska sighed deeply.
“…Because that fool loved you. As much as I hate you, I still respect what my late little brother would have wanted. He would have wanted you to be here.”
Miles… loved Phoenix? What?
“What do you mean, he loved me?”
Franziska groaned and rolled her eyes. “Do I have to explain everything to you? My foolish brother loved you. He was just too much of a coward to say it to your face.”
“…”
This was too much for Phoenix. His breathing quickened and he started to feel lightheaded. He ran out of the venue and into the hallway, sitting down on one of the soft, velvet benches.
The cracked dam broke wide open. He was crying so hard that his body was shaking and stuttering with every sob.
Miles loved him. But he’s dead now. And Phoenix is responsible. The worst part of this all was that Phoenix loved him back. God, he loved Miles more than anything. It just never occurred to him to tell him. He didn’t think he’d reciprocate. But he did, apparently. And now it’s too late.
If only either one of them had had the guts to tell the other. Maybe he would’ve stayed. Maybe he would still be here. Maybe he wouldn’t have felt so alone.
But maybe love wasn’t enough. Even if it could’ve been interpreted as platonic, Phoenix showed Miles so much love in the way he believed in him and kept fighting for him.
Maybe that love is what killed him.
Maybe Phoenix coming into his life is exactly what killed him. Maybe it would’ve been better if he stayed out of it.
Maybe Phoenix’s actions didn’t even matter at all. If it wasn’t suicide that killed Miles, it would’ve been his guilty verdict. If it wasn’t his world crumbling around him that killed him, it would’ve been his guilt.
Maybe choice was but an illusion. Maybe Miles Edgeworth’s death was inevitable, freeing Phoenix of any choice or responsibility in the outcome.
Maybe being responsible would’ve been better.