Chapter Text
The courthouse reading room was not a place Miles Edgeworth frequented. Any reading materials he had needed in his brief time at university, he could easily find in his mentor’s collection, eliminating the need to browse the same shelves as the other students. Had it not been for that request from his favorite professor, he might never have gone to that room.
Technically, Miles should not have been able to graduate as quickly as he had. Although he had completed much of the relevant coursework in advance, he had been missing a trivial prerequisite for graduation, but the kindly old professor who had overseen much of his preparation for the bar exam had personally issued him a waiver. Between that and the generous allowances he had made that allowed Miles to keep perfect scores, Miles was rather indebted to the man.
So when he had asked Miles to help him put together a new Intro to Law course, Miles had readily accepted, though he wasn’t sure if he could accept the teaching assistant position the professor had offered. It would be too much work alongside his caseload and there was no way Mr. von Karma would approve his court appearances taking such a dramatic backseat. Still, while he hadn’t accepted the offer yet, he hadn’t rejected it either, figuring that he would find a convenient excuse once he took his next case.
It took some adjustment to find his way around, but once he’d figured out how the books were organized, finding the ones most relevant to the drafted lesson plans was a simple matter. Soon, there was only one book left that he needed.
But just as he slid the heavy tome from the shelf, a rapid click of heels on tile rang out on the other side. Peeking through the gap, Miles only caught a glimpse of long, fire-engine red hair and a parasol before the newcomer collided with the student searching the shelves in front of her.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” the girl said in a sugary-sweet voice as the boy steadied himself, running a hand unconsciously through his spiky black hair.
Hold on, was that…? Miles leaned closer to the gap in the bookshelf for a closer look. The boy’s features had aged, but his lightning-bolt eyebrows and blue-brown eyes were unmistakable.
“It’s fine,” the familiar-looking boy mumbled, his voice noticeably changed yet still with that same intonation Miles remembered. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing, it’s just… I’ve never met anyone like you,” the girl said breathily, twirling her parasol, and Miles was certain he’d seen her somewhere before. “I’m Dahlia. What’s your name?”
Dahlia. The pieces clicked together. Dahlia Hawthorne had been the key witness in his first trial, a case that should have been open and shut but which had ultimately ended in the defendant taking his own life before a verdict could be rendered. Truth be told, there had been something discomforting about her, but Miles had ignored it, attributing the discomfort to that convenient yet disturbing habit the men in the courtroom had displayed of fawning excessively on his witness.
Now, however, there was certainly something discomforting about the way she approached the spiky-haired boy who looked so familiar to him.
“Phoenix,” said the boy, confirming Miles’ idle speculation in one word.
“Phoenix,” Dahlia repeated, tasting the name as she unfastened something from her neck. “Feenie… would you wear this for me? I want you to carry it as a symbol of our love.”
Something twisted in Miles’ stomach as he watched Dahlia reach behind Phoenix’s neck to secure the necklace in place. He could barely see past her hand, but it looked like some sort of blue gem on a chain that he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d seen before.
“You’re going to Ivy University, aren’t you?” said Dahlia.
Phoenix nodded, jostling the chain slightly. “I used to be in the arts program, but I’m taking Intro to Law this semester.”
“Ohh, a future lawyer.” Dahlia’s eyes narrowed slightly, her smile as sugary-sweet as ever. “I’m taking literature. Will I see you again on the first day of classes?”
“Of course.” Phoenix smiled brightly. “Meet me by the fountain at noon?”
“It’s a date.” Dahlia turned to leave, glancing one last time over her shoulder. “I’ll see you then, Feenie.” With that, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and went back up the stairs to the exit.
“I’ll see you then, Dollie,” Phoenix whispered to himself, grinning like an idiot as he started gathering his things to leave.
Now was the time to look away, Miles told himself, making no move to look away from his old friend bending over the large backpack he was struggling to zip closed around a stack of books, one hand occasionally drifting to his newly acquired neckwear. Phoenix Wright was a memory that belonged in the past, in an idyllic childhood far away from his current lived reality.
…Who was taking Intro to Law this semester.
…Who still had that same carefree smile as the spiky-haired boy who had introduced him to the Signal Samurai show, a smile untarnished by personal tragedy.
…A smile brought on by a girl who had driven a man to suicide.
…Allegedly, and the man had been far from innocent himself, meaning there was no reason to think that the six-month-old incident had any bearing on this one.
…With poison from a bottle necklace not unlike the one she had clasped around Phoenix’s neck.
Miles’ heart clenched at the thought. As much as he loathed to question his own key witness, he couldn’t deny the foreboding implications. Phoenix might have belonged in that far-away idyllic memory, but Miles couldn’t stand by while another part of it was extinguished. Not again. Not if there was anything he could do to investigate further.
When he got home that evening, Miles finally replied to the professor’s email.