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The stars looked a little brighter than they had in a long while, Phoenix thought, as he hung onto the cool rail of the balcony. Maybe it was the contrast with the air of Lille in February. Maybe it was the lights from L'Hermitage Gantois. Or maybe, it was a third, more romantic option that he wanted to pretend didn't weigh on his heart.
"Wright, why are you outside?"
He turned back to the man wearing a nightcap, who was rubbing his eyes.
"Just needed to take a breather, Edgeworth."
"One would think it's chilly out there."
"The hoodie keeps me warm."
Even in the dark, he could practically hear his friend's eyes roll into his head.
"You know, there are better ways to say you miss me."
"Shut up and get back inside, will you?"
Smirking the entire time, Phoenix closed the glass doors behind him. "Did I wake you up?" he asked.
Whatever convincing lie Edgeworth was going to spout was cut off by a huge yawn. He covered his mouth right after.
"Oh dear, excuse me."
"It's normal. How do you even have the energy for manners anyway? It's like, 2 AM."
"Some of us are able to act like gentlemen in the late hours of the night," he sneered back. "Clearly, you've never been in such a situation that requires it."
"Okay, alright, ice king, between you and the outside world, you win the contest of being fucking cold."
"Language."
"Yeah, yeah." Phoenix slumped back onto his unfairly comfortable bed.
"Whatever were you thinking about?"
He turned to his side, facing away. "Not much."
"You are aware that raises more suspicion?"
"What, do you want me to get closer or something? Push our beds together like we're having a sleepover?"
Edgeworth scoffed, but his lips curved up. "If you genuinely wish it, I don't see why not."
To this, Phoenix beamed and jumped off his mattress. Unfortunately, to a jetlagged man who had been slipping on his exercise, the ebony frame proved to be a static, formidable foe. Sweat was pooling on his forehead, and he could feel his own hair poking him.
"So persistent," Edgeworth teased.
"Can you get over here and help me instead of sitting and looking pretty?"
"Why don't you just sleep with me?"
Phoenix froze, staring at him. It wasn't that he was surprised by the implications, as though the two of them hadn't silently acknowledged the chocolates that had been laid there on the dining table when they first entered (Trucy had eaten all of them within a matter of minutes). It was Edgeworth's boldness that caught him off-guard, really. And what Phoenix was scared, no, terrified of was whether Edgeworth's feelings ran as deep as his own. Before he could continue freaking out though, he noticed him grumbling while in a fetal position.
"Edgeworth? Are you okay?"
"I didn't mean it that way, I didn't mean it that way at all…" he muttered, rocking back and forth.
From all-nighters pulled over old cases, Phoenix had learnt that he acted almost younger in the later hours, or at least, that his stoicism faded a little. Phoenix snickered at the sight, though not unkindly. His heart fluttered as he placed a hand on Edgeworth's shoulder.
"I know you didn't, don't worry too much about what you said," he chuckled. "Though, if you want to let me indulge…"
Like a turtle, Edgeworth poked his head up from his body, looking a little less ashamed. "That could be arranged."
And so they laid there, side by side.
"You made a promise, Wright."
"Oh? What was it?"
Edgeworth flicked him on the arm.
"Both of us went through all of that embarrassment so that you could talk about your thoughts."
"I never promised I would."
"...No, I suppose not."
Normally, Phoenix would have just kept his mouth shut, and that would've been the end. There were very few people since his disbarment that he wanted to talk to at all, let alone about personal matters. And yet, he broke the silence anyway.
"I guess this trip was long overdue, huh?"
"Why do you say?"
"I was just thinking of something from a while ago. A long, long while ago."
Two boys were sprinting on a weathered path in the suburbs. One leapt over the deep puddles in their way, while the other boy navigated around them. By the way they reached Miles's front porch, Phoenix was unsurprisingly soaked and covered in mud. However, despite his friend's best efforts, Miles himself was also drenched.
Mr. Edgeworth opened the door before they even knocked. Phoenix wondered how adults could do that.
"Miles, Phoenix, my goodness, come inside! The two of you are going to catch colds."
Both of them were more than happy to rush into the house. Phoenix tried to put his coat on the rack, but he wasn't quite able to tippy toe high enough. Miles's father bent down and took it for him.
"Thank you, Mr. Edgeworth!"
"Phoenix, you can just call me Greg. You're essentially part of the family now."
"Really?" Phoenix smiled, relieved. 'Edgeworth' was admittedly a little hard to say – he couldn't imagine calling someone that all the time.
"Yes, really." After putting the jacket up, he kneeled down, looking the boys in the eyes. "How long will you be staying over?"
"Could he stay until the rain lets up, Father?" Miles asked, fiddling with his bow tie.
"Yeah, Greg, is that okay?"
The older man chuckled. "I can even call your parents, Phoenix, if you'd like to stay for the night. I have a feeling Miles won't want you out of the door so soon."
His son grabbed his friend's hand and marched towards the stairs to his room, head down the entire time.
"Thank you so much!" Phoenix called back.
"Wait," he called. "The two of you should really get changed… Can you do that in your room, Miles? I'll get you a change of clothes too, Phoenix, then you can use the bathroom."
Miles obediently nodded and gave a shy smile to his friend before he went up the stairs. Phoenix, however, was stuck in the hallway, incredibly awkward in the now empty corridor. His eyes darted around to find a pink, square-like object on the coffee table.
Upon recognizing the Game Boy SP, Phoenix almost jumped in place. He hoped Miles would finish soon so he could ask him to play with it.
Soon after, one of the Edgeworths came back down, but he wasn't the one Phoenix was expecting. Mr. Edgeworth held a neatly folded shirt and pair of pants in his arms.
"Apologies for the wait, Phoenix," he smiled. "You've been very patient."
After thanking him, Phoenix took the clothes and waddled off to the bathroom. They were warm, like they'd just come out of the dryer. He hung up the pants to admire the shirt in his hands: it was a brilliant azure, with Signal Blue doing his signature pose on the front. When he put it on, it felt almost perfectly snug. He put the new pair of pants on too, and headed back out.
Miles was standing outside, Game Boy in hand.
"Oh! I was going to ask you about–"
"I know, Father told me you were looking at it."
Phoenix scratched the back of his head. He hoped that Mr. Edgeworth was just perceptive, and that it wasn't obvious how he was drooling over the console. Miles also looked nervous though, eyes cast to the floor and hand gripping it tightly.
"Miles? Are you okay?"
He nodded. "I know… I know I should share with you, but I'm worried about it."
Trying not to sigh, Phoenix held his friend's sleeve. "You don't have to, I know it's really important to you."
"No, I want to. I think I'd just feel better if you watched me play with it first."
And then the sparkle was back in both of their eyes. Getting to watch Miles having fun sounded like a dream.
"That's totally okay!" Phoenix grinned. "I wouldn't know what buttons to press anyway."
Miles smiled back. "Let's go up to my room. I put all my games in there."
After some back-and-forth of saying "No, you should choose," they finally decided on Nightmare in Dream Land. Phoenix's reasoning was that the main character was Miles's favourite colour. Miles thought that was a thoroughly good point.
The two of them got into a good rhythm, passing it off to the other after each level. When one was too challenging though, Phoenix passed it back to Miles, and the order would reset.
Phoenix was in the middle of Yogurt Yard when Miles suddenly spoke.
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
"Me?"
"Who else? You know exactly what I want to do, but you never talk about your own dreams."
Phoenix blushed and looked away. "Being completely honest… I really wanna be famous."
"Why would you want that? It sounds scary to have so many people always know what you're doing."
"Yeah, but…" he sighed. "Sorry, Miles. It's stupid, I shoulda known."
"Phoenix. Did you save already?"
"Oh, yeah, just did–"
He yanked the console out of his friend's hands, though he placed it comically softly on the table.
"Hey, Miles, come on!"
"I'll give it back when you take what you said back."
"What did I even say?"
"That your dreams were stupid." Miles shook his head. "Just because I don't understand something doesn't mean it's dumb at all. And if it's you, that might just mean you're smarter than me."
"No no no, I never could be! Miles, you're so smart, compared to me, I'm just…"
Miles narrowed his eyes at him.
"Kinda smart… ish."
"Do you believe that?"
"Not really."
He held his hands, looking at Phoenix dead-on.
"Then I'll say it with you. 'Phoenix Wright is the smartest boy in the world.'"
Phoenix's eyes started flitting around, and his face became as pink as Kirby himself. His lips trembled as he spoke.
"I… I am?"
"You are. Now, it's your turn."
He took a deep breath, balling his fists. "Phoenix Wright is… the smartest boy in the world."
"Again."
"Phoenix Wright is the smartest boy in the world."
"One more time."
"I'm the smartest boy in the world!"
As he yelled with all his might, Phoenix had an awful voice crack. He instantly covered his mouth, eyes wide open, as if his hands would somehow get the sound back inside his mouth. And Miles… Miles was smiling.
If it were anyone else, Phoenix might've curled up and died right there, but he knew Miles wasn't laughing at him. And soon enough, Phoenix found himself bursting into giggles with his best friend.
"Boys!" Mr. Edgeworth called from the next room. "Can you be a little more quiet, please?"
"Sorry, Greg!" Phoenix yelled in response, using the last of his breath. He fell back on the carpet, letting out a satisfied sigh. Much more gracefully, Miles laid down beside him.
"So, was that it?" he whispered.
"What?" Phoenix asked.
"Your dream. Do you just want to become famous in any way you can?"
Phoenix's attempt to shake his head looked more like he was flopping it around, with all of his exhaustion.
"Not really. I mean, I think it would be really cool to have a lot of people think you're awesome, but…"
He stared right at Miles.
"I want people to recognize me as like, an actor or something."
"An actor? For movies and things like that?"
"No, no. Shows and stuff are cool, but I want to shine on a stage, you know? I want people to see me at cafés and stuff and say my name the same way they're like, 'Oh my god, that's Idina Menzel!'"
As with most things, Miles pretended he understood everything, including these ideas which men apparently sold.
"So when you grow up, you want to be a famous stage actor?"
"Yup! I really, really want to be Romeo someday."
Miles flushed crimson, staying completely silent. Phoenix sat up to get a better look at him, concerned by his lack of words.
"Oh my gosh, wait, you're totally red! Did I say something wrong? Was that bad?"
"No, no, it's not that at all," he muttered, pulling his bangs in front of his face. "It's just… that means you'll have to kiss someone for your job."
"What?!"
"It's a love story, isn't it?"
"Oh."
Phoenix thought about this for a little while. If it were someone he didn't know, that sounded awful. But if it were someone he was close to…
He turned back to his friend. "If it was someone like you, then–"
"Miles, Phoenix! Dinner is ready."
The aroma of beef bourguignon came wafting up almost immediately after. Phoenix bolted down the stairs, and Miles speedwalked close behind him.
The two boys flopped onto Miles's bed, having been filled with good food and the happiness of being near each other. Phoenix felt sleepy after the meal, far too tired to chatter as much as he usually did. Miles was more than happy with the comfortable silence. And so they laid there, quiet for a little while.
"Hey, Miles?"
"Mm?"
"What time is it?"
He checked the analog watch on his wrist, even though there was a digital clock right on his nightstand.
"9:18."
"Oh. Maybe we should turn off the lights."
"Maybe we should. It is late."
Neither of them moved. Then, both of them moved at the same time.
"Miles, I suggested it, I'll go…"
"No, I'm your host." he responded, shaking his head. "There's something I want you to stay there for anyway."
He hopped off the bed and Phoenix continued laying there, looking up at the ceiling. He blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, the brightness of the room was gone, replaced with glowing wall stickers cutting through the dark. Signal Red was cutting through an exploding Road Rager, with Blue and Yellow nearby as reinforcements. Nearby were lots of other shining circles and stars.
Phoenix gasped. "How did you get all of them up so high? They all look like fireflies."
"Father had to get a ladder." He pointed to a star directly above the bed. "I managed to get that one though, by jumping."
Both of their eyes danced over the lovely display, in silent awe and wonder. But surprisingly, it was Miles who spoke next.
"What were you going to say before dinner?"
"I said something before dinner?"
As Miles glared at him, Phoenix found it easy to imagine all the wrinkles that would probably be there in the future.
"You said…" he trailed off, looking away. "I asked you if you would be okay kissing whoever would be Juliet."
Ah. Now, he remembered.
Phoenix chuckled nervously. "I mean, things like that are a little scary. But if it were someone like you, I think I'd be fine with that."
Miles's eyes widened, as if he was horrified by the prospect.
"No, no, Miles, don't worry, it doesn't have to be you! I know you don't really like being onstage with lots of attention."
His expression softened, or more accurately, narrowed. He looked more neutral than relieved, unlike how Phoenix thought he would be.
"...Right," was all he responded with. He averted his eyes and sighed. "Does that mean you'll be staying in Los Angeles?"
"Maybe if I get super good at singing, I'll move to New York," Phoenix snickered. "But until then, I might actually go to Europe."
"Europe? Why so far?"
"If Shakespeare's my goal, I think it's the best place to start. I could even go see the Globe for myself!"
He flashed all his teeth at Miles, ecstatic to be telling his best friend about his plans. But he still looked away, mouth scrunched into a frown.
"Is that too much? Am I being silly?"
"No, if those are your goals, then you should continue reaching them."
"Then why do you look so angry?"
Miles flinched, still avoiding eye contact. "I'm not angry."
"You sound like you are. You're using your angry voice."
For a few seconds after that, Phoenix didn't hear Miles's voice at all. Finally, he whispered.
"...But no matter what, you're not staying here?"
"No. I'll come back to visit, but I want to go see as much of the world as I can."
"Then take me with you."
"What?"
Miles finally looked at him, with fire in his eyes. "You wouldn't have any friends over there, Phoenix."
"H-hey! That's not true."
"Which Europeans do you know then?"
"Only you."
The atmosphere seemed to brighten with Miles's gentle shoving, and the soft giggles of the two boys.
"That's only more of a reason to take me along."
"Never said I wouldn't. You'd be like my own map!"
"I was only born over there. I don't remember anything about it at all, you know."
"That's fine, you know everything, Miles."
He linked his fingers with his friend's.
"And even if we get lost, we'd be there together, as long as we hang onto each other."
Miles yawned, smirking with his eyes closed.
"Will we shake on it then? You, Phoenix Wright, and me, Miles Edgeworth, going to Europe together once we're older?"
Too tired to respond verbally, Phoenix gripped his palm tighter, and felt his eyelids close along with his hand.
"It seems that extinguisher didn't manage to knock everything out of you, Wright."
God, Phoenix hated how his smug face never changed. He loved how it never did.
"Sometimes, you might give me too much credit, Edgeworth," he sighed. "My memory's getting worse – I'm getting too old."
"And yet you were able to tell me a love story from your childhood with incessant detail."
"A love story?"
"Don't act coy, you spent an excessive amount of time detailing our physical contact."
Experimentally, Phoenix shifted himself closer to the other man, soon feeling silk pajamas and the subtle scent of jasmine tickling his skin.
"I think it says a lot that you noticed."
"Each word of yours is easy to cling onto."
And yet, with his cowardice, Phoenix wasn't able to bridge the rest of the gap. Not yet, at least. He sat up and glanced at Edgeworth.
"Promise I'll be back," he smiled.
Phoenix slid off the bed, holding the wall as he stumbled over to the guest room. He knocked gently on the small door. In response was silence, or at least, attempted silence.
He laid chest-down on the floor, and whispered through the crack. "Trucy, I know you're still up. I'm not mad, but get to bed soon, alright?"
"How did you know?" she squealed back.
"Comes with being an adult, my cherry."
She giggled. "That's not what Mr. Edgeworth says when he speaks in French! But okay, Daddy, I'll go to bed. Good night."
"Good night, Truce."
"I love you."
He was a little glad, in that moment, that there was a door in-between them. Having something stopping her from seeing the tears pricking at his eyes made it less embarrassing.
"I love you too. Sweet dreams."
He tiptoed back to the other room, feeling light as air. Once Edgeworth spotted him, he swore those grey eyes twinkled a little. And he waved at Phoenix. With how meek the gesture was, Phoenix couldn't help but find himself doing it back.
"Were you bidding Trucy good night?"
"Maybe. I can't blame her for being up, but I think she just needed a reminder that she should get some rest."
"You're incredibly fond of that girl, aren't you?"
Phoenix climbed back onto the bed, giving Edgeworth a push.
"Wow, yeah, it's almost like she's my daughter or something."
"Wright."
"Don't you find my cynicism and sarcasm sexy?"
The other man threw a hand up to his mouth, trying to hide the corners of his lips. His trembling and warbling from his throat betrayed him anyway.
"You are awful."
"I know you like it."
"Be quiet."
Phoenix rolled his eyes. "You have a sweet spot for her too."
"I'm sorry? How?"
"Defendant, this wasn't meant to be the room arrangement, was it?" he whisper-shouted. "Trucy and I were meant to be here, and you were going to be in the guest room."
He scowled. "That is baseless conjecture. Where is your evidence that it was planned out that way at all?"
"Your reactions when we first got here."
"You cannot cite emotions in a court of law."
"Ah, but Chief Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth," Phoenix smirked, placing a finger on Edgeworth's nose, "this is a bedroom. Just you wait, in the future, they'll be able to do that anyway."
"Oh, dear God. But do elaborate, Mr. Wright."
He chuckled, recalling how flustered Edgeworth seemed earlier that day. "She saw the guest room and ran straight in, don't you remember? And then she was like…"
Phoenix stuck out his tongue, knocking his forehead with his fist. "'Mister Edgewooorth, did you get a whole separate room for widdle ol' me?'"
"Trucy does not sound anything like that."
"'You're being so rude, Uncle Miles!'"
"And you, Phoenix Wright, are being utterly gross."
"Okay, okay, fine," he sighed. "Point is, I saw you flailing around and moving all of your luggage to this room. The defense asserts that the prosecution cannot say no to Trucy Wright."
"Wasn't I the defendant?"
"You're deflecting!"
He slowly shook his head, utterly defeated. "It is… difficult to not find her endearing."
"Could've just admitted it from the beginning."
Both laid down and chuckled for the last time, feeling night and age weighing down on them. Phoenix was grateful for how peaceful he felt now, considering everything that had been happening in his life.
"You know what she said? Trucy Wright said she loved me."
Slowly, he felt soft lips being pressed to his forehead.
"I mirror her sentiments about you, Phoenix."