Chapter Text
"Chief? Chief...?"
The first thought that came to Phoenix Wright's mind was something along the lines of, "What happened to Mia?" although the answer was somewhat obvious from the mess the room was in and the bloodstained Thinker statue laying on the ground. The second, a logical follow up, was "Who did this!?" and its answer was less obvious. Phoenix looked around the room.
No one.
"Chief!!!"
He rushed down to Mia as she sat against the wall and reached out for her shoulder. She was still warm. Perhaps not for long. Maybe she could answer his questions in more detail.
"Chief, what happened!?" he shouted, diving his hand into his pocket to retrieve his flip phone. "Who...!?"
To his surprise, Mia managed to gurgle something out. "He... ...Red..."
All too quickly, silence took her over, and it would never let go.
"CHIEF!!!" Phoenix shouted for the last time as he made his call to the police. As soon as he could tear his eyes away from Mia's lifeless eyelids, though, Phoenix saw a note, presumably written by Mia with the last strength she could manage in her arms. To his surprise, the only thing it said was his own name. "Phoenix".
It was strange; he never noticed Mia writing it herself, and it was oddly far away from her. Why would she have written her name minutes before he actually arived? Despite this oddity, the thought that it was forged by Mia's killer never crossed his mind. Still, Phoenix knew he had to figure out who did this to her, and why. Each and every object in the room was closely investigated, in the smallest hope that it might clue him in on something.
Eventually, though, it looked like he had investigated every cranny he could. But things weren't all hopeless; Phoenix remembered seeing a woman out the window, clearly in shock. It was clear to him that she witnessed everything! He rushed out the doors of Fey & Co. before the police ever arrived and into the neighboring Gatewater Hotel to see if he could get any information from the woman.
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Two days later, Phoenix was the most exhausted he'd been in his entire legal career. Totally unguided by anyone, the entire world against him, he managed to bumble through getting himself aquitted of murder. A thousand times Phoenix felt the gaze of the gallery upon him as he sat thinking for minutes, maybe hours. At least, that's what they felt like. And somehow, on top of that, he accused the strongest power in the municipal judicial system, Redd White, of the murder instead. And won. His blood was 30% adrenaline and 70% luck that second day, Phoenix figured. There was no way he could've done it.
He couldn't keep thinking about this. Once he got back to the Fey & Co. Law Offices, Phoenix dropped like a rock into the couch and attempted to destress and clear his mind.
Somewhere, sometime in that haze of convalescence, a single idea shot in front of him. He immediately realized this was a task he probably needed to undertake in the next hour, even with the couch feeling as comfy as it did, and sat up, groaning all the way.
"...I need to get in contact with Chief's family. Attend her funeral. ...Do they even know about it?"