Chapter Text
April 22nd, Miles’s apartment, 2:02 am
A late night in Japanfornia meant many things, a long night partying, endless struggles in between sleep and studying and of course the ever present dread of a world changed that right now, was all Miles could think about to the point where the chamomile and melatonin combo wasn’t working it’s usual magic on him.
Someone was knocking on his apartment door and it was keeping him up. Miles groaned, taking his nightcap off and hanging it over on a nearby hook that was specifically for his nightcap, grabbing his glasses and hanging them in his pyjama pockets.
His apartment was what one would call a juxtaposition. An old, barely working tv from the 90s sat upon a tablestand that was carved from mahogany where a stack of VHS tapes that were recordings from reruns of The Signal Samurai rested. A custom chessboard complete with familiar looking chess pieces was atop his glass coffee table. His kitchen had none of the numerous gadgets that would be expected for someone of his job save for a kettle and fine black teapot.
Miles opened the door to a strange, blurry man.
There was a familiarity to the man that Miles couldn’t put a finger on why. His black hair seemed unnaturally let down, long and reaching the bottom of his broad shoulders, his hair curling at the ends. The man wore an unbuttoned black suit jacket over a white shirt and a green tie that was the colour of that strange rock Miles had wielded only weeks ago. His suit pants were also black and his suit shoes were white.
He also held a bouquet of flowers that with some squinting was made up of roses, red spider lilies and white flowers that Miles didn’t know the name of.
“Can I come in?” The stranger asked, Miles closed the door with a much louder than preferred slam. He wasn’t going to deal with what would probably lead to another conspiracy being blown open for all to see, he’s had quite enough of that for now.
Miles took a few steps away from the door, he remained still for a moment, massaging the bridge of his nose and sighing. “Please let this not be a huge mistake, Miles.” He opened the door.
There was nobody there save for a chilling breeze that made Miles shudder a tiny bit.
Oh…he probably left, good. Miles yawned, with the situation defused, his immensely feather down bed was calling to him for a good night’s sleep.
“...Are you going to leave me too?”
Miles turned around, the strange man had somehow entered his apartment, still clutching his bouquet of flowers.
Miles pointed an accusatory finger with one hand, his other holding a rotary phone up to his ear. “Who are you?”
“Who am I? Who am I? If you really want to know, I'm…Why should you know? You’re clever.” The Stranger smiled a little, his sad green eyes almost glowing, he laid the bouquet down on top of Miles’s coffee table.
Who could this man be? As far as Miles knew, he was staring at a complete stranger, although what the stranger presented was a challenge and that was something he could grasp fine enough.
Think, there has to be some way to tell who this stranger is, he talks as if he knows who I am beyond celebrity recognition. Miles lowered the phone back down, his curiosity sparked alight.
His face, maybe I had seen him before I got my glasses. Miles put on his glasses, pushing them and looking up at the stranger. He felt himself almost jump in shock, turning away from the stranger and taking off his glasses, quickly folding them and tucking them back into his pyjama shirt pocket.
He knew who this stranger was, the sheer impossibility of it was breaking his mind.
It was what one would call absurd, the man looked nothing like Phoenix Wright, that Miles would say was true, but there was one givaway that confirmed that beyond a shadow of a doubt he let Wright into his apartment; the stranger’s eyebrows had tiny chinks in ends of them.
And as far as he knew, Wright was an only child.
“Wright. You’re Phoenix Wright.” Miles said, shocked.
The Stranger nodded, his voice lowered to a complete whisper. “I'm him but I'm also…Missing a part of myself…Ah don’t mind that, you can call me…Nobody, different name pending.” Nobody placed a finger on his lips.
Miles put his glasses back on, turning to Nobody. "Wright, what happened to you?”
“I feel I've come to be because he willed me to existence." Nobody said, dancing his fingers through his hair. He touched one of the tiny curls that were on the tips of his hair and sighed.
Miles raised an eyebrow. “Willed into existence?"
Nobody nodded. “In fact…Maybe he wants to be me right now, not forever, just for now.” Nobody yawned while laying down on Miles’s leather couch, an arm dangling off the couch.
"...Nobody, will you turn back into Wright?"
"I will, once the sun rises from the skies, I wake up as him not knowing what happened, still dressed in his now sullied disgraced suit that he feels so compelled to wear when I choose to mourn him." Nobody said.
What do I say to all of this?! He’s not telling me how this happened! Miles looked down at the transformed Wright. Nobody winked.
“Fine.”
“Can I sleep here tonight as well?” Nobody asked, getting a tired nod for an answer.
“Thank you for not abandoning me after everyone else did.” Nobody sat up from the couch. His lip curled up akin to a cat’s smile, he then laid back down slowly out of Miles’s sight.
“I-I guess?” Miles stuttered out, nearly biting his tongue, even though his behaviour this early, ungodly hour of the morning was not at his best, how could he when he once more had to deal with something that was bloody supernatural!
No, the best explanation for this was that he was still in bed going through one of the most lucid dreams that he had ever been through.
Yes, that is the most logical explanation for it. Miles walked into his bedroom, tossing himself into his bed and quickly fell asleep, the strange dream fading away to another familiar dream of being in a grassy field.
April 22nd, Miles’s apartment, 8:30 am
Light smatterings of sun leaked through the apartment provided blinds, not enough to break Miles out of the grasp of sleep.
His alarm however had other ideas, breaking him out of that grassy field dream that he was in complete control over.
Miles smacked the alarm clock off of his bedside table, sitting up and rubbing one of his eyes, a tired mumble escaping his lips. His hair was messy, a sign he had forgotten to wear his nightcap. I’ve got a comb in my bathroom. He stretched his arms out and walked out of his bedroom.
“AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” A familiar voice cried out. Miles rushed to the source of the voice and stopped in his tracks, Wright stared at Miles in complete panic and Miles stared back.
“Edgeworth?! Where am I? This isn’t my couch, this isn’t my home! What happened to my clothes!” Wright groaned, completely and utterly confused. He was still dressed in Nobody’s suit, even the shoes, his hair back to its usual length and style. A slight cringe escaped Miles’s lips at the thought of getting rid of shoe marks on his couch.
“Wright, you’re awake…” Miles tapped his arms, hoping his voice didn't betray his surprise.
“How did I get here?” Wright asked, looking down at his suit in confusion.
Miles glanced away from Wright. Nobody was real.
And he had to tell Wright about it.
“Wright…It wasn’t exactly you who came here.”
April 20th, Phoenix’s apartment 11:30 pm
Phoenix’s eyes snapped open from a dreamless sleep. His head aching a little from a headache that had clamped down on his head.
Why am I still in my suit? Phoenix thought to himself, rubbing his red streaked eyes, he remembered, he didn’t change out because he’s still an Attorney… A folly to think I still am one, I'm a criminal, a crook. Phoenix thought, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes. He then sat up as a light twinge of pain caused him to hold a hand to his head.
“What the…”
His hair had suddenly grown over the last two hours while he was asleep, reaching to the bottom of his shoulders, Phoenix dug his fingers into his hair and pulled through the little bits of knots that had formed while he was asleep. He winced and looked down at himself.
He never wore a light green tie in his life and yet there it was. Hanging loose on his shirt as it was when he tossed himself into bed to cry himself to sleep.
Wiped tears that had stained his jacket sleeves ever since he came back to his apartment still lingered on his suit oddly enough. He got to his feet and walked to the bathroom.
Phoenix looked in the recently cracked mirror.
A stranger was looking back at him.
At this point nothing phased him, today was the worst day of his life in recent memory after all. The reasonable question of how this happened to him refused to be entertained.
I could trim these but…why? I look completely different, nobody will know. Phoenix grabbed a black brush that Maya left behind one time. He never thought that he would use it on himself but alas here he was.
Phoenix tugged the brush through his mysteriously lengthened hair. Tear stains began to grow over the sleeves, turning black and taking over his suit entirely.
Phoenix continued to brush without a care in the world.
With a blink, his eyes had turned from brown to green, still slightly wet with tears.
“...” A man who wasn’t Phoenix stared back in the mirror slightly confused, still brushing his hair as if he did not come to be only seconds ago. Why was he here? He knew why.
It is to mourn the death of a man he once was.