Chapter Text
Part I
August 10, 7:32 PM
Wright & Co. Law Offices
The Wright & Co. Law Offices were draped in the familiar comfort of the early evening. Outside, the sunset painted the Los Tokyo skyline in burnished shades of amber, but inside, Phoenix Wright only had eyes for the case files scattered across his desk.
“Dina Doitte...” Phoenix muttered, tapping his chin with his pen. His trial tomorrow was for a particularly tough case, even by his standards. His client was Dina Doitte, and the victim was Zed Andgone. The police report read like a definitive indictment of her guilt: the victim’s blood was found splattered on the cuffs of Dina’s own jacket, and her unique fingerprints were lifted directly from the hilt of the vintage dagger left buried in the victim’s chest. To make matters worse, security footage from the building’s corridor placed her entering the private study mere minutes before the estimated time of death, with no one else seen entering or leaving until the body was discovered. By all logical metrics, taking the case was a massive gamble, a near-impossible uphill battle that any other defense attorney would have run from.
But Phoenix hadn’t faltered. When he had questioned Dina in the detention center, holding the magatama tight in his palm, there were no psyche-locks. She had looked him dead in the eye and sworn she was innocent, and the magatama had confirmed it: she was telling the truth. That was all Phoenix needed. He would fight for her, and he would fight for the truth.
And he knew he would uncover the truth in this case. After all, Edgeworth was prosecuting.
There was an exhilarating comfort in knowing exactly who was waiting for him across the courtroom aisle. Going up against Edgeworth was a collaborative crucible. Every objection thrown, every piece of evidence presented—it felt like a conversation only the two of them knew how to have. Even when they were locked in fierce debate, Phoenix knew they were ultimately working toward the exact same goal. Together, they would tear away the lies, piece by piece, until only the unvarnished truth remained.
Phoenix loved the thrill of facing Edgeworth, yes, but the truth cut far deeper: he was in love with him. Edgeworth was, quite simply, Phoenix’s gravity. If Phoenix thought about it too hard, he’d realize he’s probably always been in love with Edgeworth. Nothing else could quite explain the way he changed his major and put himself through law school after seeing one single news article about Edgeworth. He’d been captive from the start, involuntarily following a siren song, blissfully in its clutches. Hell, right after standing trial as a defendant and learning his girlfriend tried to kill him, Phoenix had immediately turned to Mia Fey to talk about saving Miles instead. Miles was a star, and Phoenix was just a planet caught in his orbit. Phoenix didn’t really mind, though. Even if he had more of a choice in the matter, he wouldn’t pick anything different.
Their connection, now, felt so earned and so special. After Edgeworth chartered a private jet and took on the mantle of a defense attorney for him in the Hazakura case, Phoenix knew there was nothing he or Edgeworth wouldn’t do for each other.
Yet, their connection was also so fragile. So delicate. Edgeworth rarely spoke his feelings. He remained guarded, no doubt a byproduct of his tumultuous past, which forced him into a controlled restraint. For all their shared history, Phoenix still found himself holding his breath, never entirely certain where he stood in the shifting landscape of Edgeworth’s reticence. All Phoenix ever wanted to do was to kiss Miles, to love him, and to show him how loved he is and how much love he deserves.
Maya Fey leaned over Phoenix’s desk, a half-eaten packet of burger-flavored chips in her hand. “Nick! Still staring at those papers? If you wrinkle them any harder with your eyes, the Judge won’t even be able to read ’em!” she teased.
“Just ironing out some last details.” Phoenix murmured.
“Of course,” said Maya, “Gotta make sure everything is perfect to go against Mr. Edgeworth. You always prepare harder when you’re going against him!”
Phoenix felt a spike of heat climb up his neck. He looked away, clearing his throat. “It’s a high-profile case, Maya. I’m taking it seriously, like I do all my cases.”
“Uh-huh. Sure, Nick.” Maya teased, leaning back with a knowing grin. “Whatever you say.”
Phoenix turned his gaze out the window, his thoughts drifting. Maya wasn’t entirely wrong. But it didn’t matter. He needed to focus on the trial tomorrow and be the defense attorney his client, and Miles, needed him to be.
Part II
August 11, 8:47 AM
District Court
Defendant’s Lobby
The Defendant’s Lobby was a buzz of nervous energy. Phoenix adjusted his blue suit jacket, his hands trembling slightly—not from fear of the trial, but from the giddy anticipation of seeing Miles.
The hefty doors swung open, and Detective Dick Gumshoe burst in. He looked completely disheveled, his usual upbeat demeanor replaced by pale, sweating panic.
“Mr. Wright! Pal!” Gumshoe gasped, catching his breath against the wall.
“Detective? What's wrong?” Phoenix asked, instantly alert. “Did something happen to Dina?”
“No, it’s not the defendant, pal! It’s Mr. Edgeworth!” Gumshoe wrung his hands. “He... he was in a car accident this morning!”
Phoenix’s heart stopped. The blood rushed out of his ears, leaving a deafening ring in its wake. The world seemed to tilt on its axis. “An accident? Is he okay? Is he in the hospital?”
“Is the trial postponed?” Maya piped up, eyes wide.
“That’s the crazy thing, pals,” Gumshoe said, shaking his head. “He refused a police escort, insisted he’s perfectly fine, and came straight to the courthouse. He’s still prosecuting today!”
Before Phoenix could process the sheer stubbornness of Miles Edgeworth, the lobby doors opened again.
Edgeworth walked in.
Phoenix braced himself, expecting blood, bruises, a limp, or at least a torn sleeve. Instead, Edgeworth looked remarkably, flawlessly normal. His burgundy suit was pristine, his cravat perfectly aligned, his silver hair immaculate. He didn’t even look tired. But as he drew closer, Phoenix caught a glimpse of his eyes. They were cold. Empty. He brushed past Phoenix and Maya without a single glance, his eyes fixed firmly forward.
“Edgeworth!” Phoenix called out, stepping toward him. “Are you alright? Gumshoe said—”
“Save your breath, Wright,” Edgeworth cut him off, his voice uncharacteristically icy, slicing through the air like a razor. “Do not waste my time with your insufferable yammerings.”
Phoenix shrunk. The unadulterated coldness in Edgeworth’s voice pierced right through his chest. It felt like a door being slammed and locked directly in his face. A hollow ache blossomed in Phoenix’s throat. Had he said something wrong?
August 11, 9:00 AM
District Court
Courtroom No. 3
Once inside the courtroom, the atmosphere only grew stranger. Edgeworth began with his opening statement.
“The facts of this case, Your Honor, are as conclusive as they are grim. The defendant, Dina Doitte, was caught in a web of her own making—a web woven from greed. The prosecution will demonstrate, through a decisive chain of physical evidence and indisputable testimony, that she consciously and maliciously executed this crime.”
Edgeworth paused.
“It is a heavy, dense reality. To perceive it otherwise requires a profound ignorance. It is a monument of fact that stands immovable before you—much like a thinker carved of stone, forever frozen in contemplation.”
Phoenix’s brow furrowed. A thinker carved of stone? Why would he phrase it like that?
He didn’t have time to dwell on the strange phrasing, though, because Edgeworth didn’t give him room to breathe. From the moment the Judge banged his gavel, Edgeworth was relentless. But it wasn’t his usual cunning, calculated cleverness—it was an aggressive, cruel hostility. He was purposefully aiming to humiliate, tearing down Phoenix’s arguments with a malignance that Phoenix hadn’t seen since the dark days of the Von Karma era.
“Really, Wright?” Edgeworth sneered, slamming his hand onto the prosecutor’s bench with a violent crack that reverberated off the high walls. “Your performance today is utterly piteous. It is an embarrassment to the legal profession, let alone this court. Look at you, grasping at straws like a drowning amateur. I almost have to remind myself who you are, because watching you stumble through these elementary arguments, it is as if this is your very first trial against me. What a travesty of an attorney you are, Wright.”
Phoenix flinched. Ouch. Edgeworth... where is this coming from? What did I do?
A few minutes later, during a debate regarding the witness’s timeline, Edgeworth crossed his arms, letting out a scoff. “The defense is intentionally ignoring the blatant contradiction in his own theory. It is quite literally the... bear in the room.”
The courtroom fell silent. The Judge blinked, looking confused.
“Uh... Mr. Edgeworth?” the Judge ventured, scratching his beard. “Don’t you mean the elephant in the room?”
Edgeworth’s eyes flared before flattening back into a glare. “... Hmph. A trivial distinction. The point remains.”
Phoenix frowned, tapping his fingers on his desk. Edgeworth doesn’t mix up idioms. Never. Especially not something that ridiculous.
He shook his head, physically forcing the distracting thoughts away. No, stop it, he told himself. He couldn’t afford to get sidetracked by Edgeworth’s unusual vile and clumsiness—not when a woman’s freedom was on the line, and certainly not after he had promised himself he would lock his feelings for Edgeworth away. He needed to be sharp. Taking a deep, stabilizing breath, Phoenix forced his focus back to the evidence in front of him. He presented a photograph of the crime scene and began explaining his theory of the case.
“If you look at the angle of the struggle, Your Honor, the killer would have needed a completely different leverage point to drive the vintage dagger into the victim’s chest. Ms. Doitte couldn’t have—”
“Objection!” Edgeworth shouted, then let out a harsh, mocking laugh. “The defense is inept,” Edgeworth snapped, grabbing the edges of his podium as he glared across the aisle. “Look closer at the upper left quadrant of the frame, Wright, or do I need to request a recess so you can learn how to analyze basic evidence? A crucial piece of physical evidence is resting in plain sight, completely upending your inane theory. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you overlooked it, but unlike some people, I have two eyes that work in every way.”
Phoenix fell back, the venom behind the words stinging like a slap to the face. He scrambled to look back at the projector screen, his face burning with embarrassment as he frantically scanned the upper left quadrant. Two eyes that work in every way? What a bizarre, oddly specific way to call someone an idiot. Leave it to Edgeworth to turn a basic insult into some pompous, grammatically over-engineered statement just to prove he was superior.
But … why is he doing this? Phoenix thought helplessly, a wave of misery washing over him. What did I even do to make him turn on me with this much hatred suddenly?
Pushing past the choking weight in his chest, Phoenix picked up Dina’s jacket, forcing confidence into his voice. “Your Honor,” Phoenix started, “If you look closely at the velocity pattern of these droplets, the alignment completely contradicts the medical examiner’s established angle of the attack! The only logical explanation is that the blood was deliberately sprayed onto that jacket after the fact to frame Ms. Doitte!”
“Framing, Mr. Wright?” Edgeworth whacked his hand on the bench, a heavy thud resounding. “The defense clearly lacks the acuity to appreciate how inundated with ridiculosity his theory is.” Edgeworth scoffed meanly, flicking his bangs out of his face. “What a textbook display of mental bankruptcy.”
“...Ridiculosity?” Maya turned to Phoenix quizzically. “Is that even a word?”
Wow, Edgeworth sure is finding creative ways to call me stupid today, Phoenix reflected. A panicked concern suddenly coursed through his veins. Something must have happened. He must be seriously hurt from his car accident.
“If you had spent less time playing the dramatic visionary and more time actually looking at the files I graciously provided, you wouldn’t be standing there making a complete mockery of yourself,” Edgeworth jeered.
Phoenix’s whole body tensed. Edgeworth… What happened to you?
The first day of the trial ended in a stressful stalemate, with the Judge granting a one-day continuance for both sides to re-examine the evidence.
As everyone left the courtroom, Phoenix caught up to Edgeworth in the hallway. “Edgeworth, wait! What is wrong with you today? If you’re suffering a concussion from the crash—”
Edgeworth stopped, but he didn’t turn around. “I am perfectly fine, Wright. If your defense is failing, blame your own incompetence, not my health. Stay away from me.”
With a snap of his coat, Edgeworth strode away. Phoenix stood alone in the empty corridor, isolation wrapping around him. He felt like he was losing Miles all over again, and he had no idea why.