Chapter Text
“Wow, at 17? That’s even faster than one of my friends!” The man in front of her, having only introduced himself as Nick, speaks with none of the condescension or disdain that she’s used to. He sounds genuinely happy, even though this is their first meeting and he doesn’t even know who she is. She catches a hint of sadness at the end of the sentence, bundled in layers of affection and pride, but it doesn’t seem to be targeted at her. If she had to guess, it would be about the friend she’s speaking of, and Widget’s algorithm seems to agree, only glowing a bright green without a hint of blue.
The man’s enthusiasm is infectious, and Athena can’t help the big smile that appears on her face in response to his unabashed praise. She’s so used to adults not taking her seriously, talking down to her because of her age, that this is a very refreshing change of pace.
Before she can respond, though, Nick continues, “But if I may ask, why?”
Something sinks in Athena’s chest. Widget blinks abruptly to blue, and she doesn’t even have the wherewithal to shut it down. Nor does she really want to.
She hasn’t seen Simon in years. She doesn’t know how he’s doing. All she knows is that he only has a year before his sentence arrives uncontested, and an unshakeable belief that he’s innocent . She doesn’t know who else could’ve… her memories of what had happened were foggy, what she understands now and what Simon had understood then were a trauma response, keeping something dark and hidden from bubbling up to the surface. But she knows that no matter what happened that day at the space centre, it wasn’t Simon.
It couldn’t have been.
And no one believed her. So she had to prove it herself.
Athena has taught herself to believe - in Simon’s innocence, in Widget’s algorithm, in herself. So she looks up at Nick and manages a smile.
“There’s someone I know. Someone who needs help, and I’m the only one who will. And… he only has a year left, but I know he’s innocent. He couldn’t have done it.”
Her words are so vague and unspecific. She’s expecting the man to just smile and nod, or prod, but she hopes that he at least understands the context of what she’s talking about - a friend with a death sentence - because of what career she's aiming for. On some level, she’s also expecting a follow-up question about her interest in psychology and she’s already preparing a response that doesn’t touch upon Simon’s prosecuting style and reveal any more than she’s willing to divulge.
Instead, Nick fully flinches backwards, yelps out loud. He takes a full step away, and jams both his hands into his hoodie. He looks like he’s about to bolt at a moment’s notice.
Widget shines yellow, mirror to her own confusion. Nick’s reaction is less a normal reaction, more like she’s just admitted to murder or something to that extent. But before she can ask, Nick breathes out and steps forward again, though his hands still remain clenched in his hoodie pocket. A concession, he offers a guilty smile, and finally says, “Hold onto that belief. I…I would have asked for the name of your friend, but I get the sense you aren’t going to tell me.”
Athena shrugs, and starts to look back down before Nick continues. “Here, take this.” She looks up to see a business card labelled “Wright & Co. Law Offices,” hastily scribbled over to become “Wright Anything Agency,” written in shaky handwriting. His phone number, though, is still clearly visible at the bottom of the card when she takes it from him.
Nick continues redundantly, “That’s my number. When you pass the bar, give me a call. I’ll have a job ready for you.”
Widget interjects with, “You can’t be serious!” and Athena absently covers it with one hand while staring at Nick in shock, mouth slack. Slowly, she repeats, "You can't be serious."
Nick laughs, a little startled, and says, “I am. Sorry about the state of the business card, it hasn’t been a law office in a few years, but we’re starting it back up. And I want you to join, so Apollo doesn’t have to handle all the cases by himself.”
Athena just continues to stare at the business card. Her hearing doesn’t lie, and while her interpretations can be off at times, it can’t be now. Nick’s being completely honest, he genuinely wants her to join his agency. He wants her to join. There was no resume, or interview process or anything…how can he be so sure? Why does he want a to-be lawyer like her ?
Maybe because of Widget? But he hasn’t shown any interest in it beyond a vague “huh, that’s cool” response, so it can’t be that either. No one’s been able to hide their emotions from her ears, and that doesn’t seem to be what’s happening either. He just… really wants to employ her.
In the wake of her silence, Nick continues, “You don’t have to give me an answer now, just think about it, and let me know your decision after the bar. I’ll be rooting for you no matter what.”
Widget takes the choice out of her hands by screeching, “Why?” Athena finally clamps her hand over the power off button, but still looks at Nick for his response.
Nick rubs a hand on his chin thoughtfully. “Well, it’s not something I can really explain. You’re a hardworking girl, and I know how it feels to try so hard to save someone else that it becomes your whole life for a while. I can only hope to help with what you need to do, and offering you a position feels like the least I can do.”
Later that night, Athena lies awake and googles the latest crayon scribble - the Wright Anything Agency. Now that she has a closer look at the business card, she can see that ‘Anything’ used to be ‘Talent,’ but it was scribbled out and replaced, with a lot more care than the previous title was.
The website she finds is downright unreadable. There’s a tab for performance booking, and a tab for legal representation. The latter brings up an Apollo Justice, which she remembers as a name Nick had mentioned. There’s no sign of the disheveled man who’d seemed to actually see her, the first adult in her life who gave her that privilege.
Apollo Justice has only 4 cases under his belt, he’s just as much of a greenhorn as she is. She closes the tab and instead searches the previous name, Wright & Co. Law offices.
There’s no website this time, but she uncovers a whole host of news articles about a Phoenix Wright, the only lawyer who worked at the currently out-of-service agency. It takes Athena too long to realise it’s the same man, in a bright blue suit and spiky black hair that he’d hidden with a gaudy beanie and an old ratty hoodie. Phoenix had become Nick, and as she searches she understands why.
The first few articles are all about his disgrace. A former beacon of the law community brought down by a charge of common forgery. It was one of the quickest corruption scandals ever seen, a flash fire that’d disbarred him halfway through a completely different trial.
The more she reads, the more she understands what a betrayal Phoenix Wright’s disbarment must have felt like. All of his trials had had some vital turnabout. Had Wright not dug his heels in and put his all behind his every client, they would have all been unfairly charged. Some of his trials are locked up tight, no information passed through other than the name of the defendant, victim, and culprit. He was high-profile, but he took on most cases pro bono, and never hired anyone other than a young, sort-of paralegal always seen by his side. She thinks that maybe the only reason he's never appeared in her syllabus is because of how terrible that betrayal was.
Eventually, she stumbles upon a court recording for State v. Edgeworth. She knows that name. She’s tried to keep herself up-to-date at the very least with prosecutors back in the States, so she can get ready for who she’s going to have to go up against. Edgeworth has to be Miles Edgeworth, Chief Prosecutor.
She watches the recording, eyes glued so tight to her laptop that she’s pulled an all-nighter by accident. Athena follows along as Phoenix Wright works through the hurdles Manfred von Karma puts up, cross-examines anything with even a shred of evidence, and jumps into defending his client for a 15-year-old case before their current case is even wrapped up. She sees the shine in Phoenix’s eyes, in Nick’s eyes, as he defends Miles Edgeworth with everything he has, and the triumphant grin on his face as he pulls out a metal detector, the now-calm and satisfied smile as von Karma bangs his head into the courtroom walls with a fervor that shakes the cameras.
She keeps the business card on her table carefully before she crashes after the rollercoaster she’s been taken on, and when she wakes up she can still remember Mr. Edgeworth’s face as it changed over the trial - from reluctant, to terrified, to suddenly furious, and then a quiet acceptance and relief.
A few months later, when she gets her bar exam results, the first thing she does is dial the number on the business card. “Mr. Wright, do you still have that job opening?”