~Right now three things remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.~
~1 Corinthians 13:13~
~ I consider irresponsible words like “I’m doing this for someone” to be the worst of all!~
~Xerxes Break, Pandora Hearts~

~
It is very like a dream, actually.
His hands hang loosely by his sides. He stares vacantly, uncomprehending, refusing to comprehend. He can only look at the world as though through a dark tunnel. Maybe this is a dream – after all, it feels like one. This has to be a dream.
What would they do with the thing, anyway? It wasn’t like he’d taken very good care of it. He’d kind of taken it for granted. It was chipped and the gold paint was peeling. They couldn’t very well give it to someone else, to some other up-and-coming lawyer. They’d probably just chuck it in a bin or something.
His fingers creep up to his lapel, where his badge, serial number 26381, no longer rests.
Kristoph, the one man who stood up for him, smiles at him blandly. Phoenix doesn’t smile back.
It is very like a dream, or perhaps a nightmare. It is like a dream in every aspect but one.
Phoenix Wright’s badge is gone, and he isn’t dreaming.
i
Out of habit, he returns to the office. It’s the same as ever. Dusty books that he had never read and now never will, the couch, the TV, Charlie the pot plant…
Maya isn’t there. It’s odd. He knows she’s in Kurain, but it still feels wrong.
He collapses onto the couch, turns on the TV, and starts to flick through the channels. His mind is blank – this can’t be happening, he can’t deal with this! Thoughts flick through his mind – how am I going to pay the rent? How am I going to feed myself? What am I supposed to do with myself now? How do I tell her…
Well. She probably already knows. It’s all over the papers already, though he’d only officially had his badge taken away that afternoon.
And then it hits him, really hits him that he isn’t a lawyer anymore, and he will never be one again, he won’t ever again stand behind the defence’s bench, or object, or have that chance to believe, to really believe in someone, to place his faith in them like Mia taught him…he has lost his job, and he can see no future for himself. But it is more than that. He has lost…lost the only thing he really wanted to do…
He breaks down and cries.
Later, it occurs to him that even then he hadn’t known what it feels like to lose everything.
a
Maya rings him. He seizes the phone, grateful for relief, for escape from the relentless misery of his own thoughts. If I’d just done that differently, if I hadn’t taken the evidence, if I hadn’t – If I had –
“Nick!” she shouts, sounding like she’s in a panic. “Nick! Did you hear? You’ve been DISBARRED! Do you know what that MEANS?!? This is terrible! Nick, you’ve gotta call the cops!”
“Um, Maya –“
“Pearly told me – she said you’d been disbarred – “
“Maya –“
“She found out from some shady tabloid – I thought you needed to know –“
“Maya, do you know what disbarring means?”
“Well…uh...SORT of…but that doesn’t matter! This is a crisis –“
“You don’t know what it means.”
“Fine, fine. Tell me, then?”
“I kind of already know I’ve been disbarred. It’d be kind of strange if I didn’t. See, it means…” he pauses. Before this, he hadn’t really said it out loud, and he doesn’t really want to. Because if he says it, it might somehow confirm it, make it real…
“Did they take away an important internal organ or something? Or was it your right to drink at a bar? Well, that doesn’t seem so bad to me…”
“They stripped me of my attorney’s badge,” he says heavily. “It means I’m not a lawyer anymore.”
Dead silence.
He waits.
“OK, OK. I’m listening. You can tell me properly now.”
He doesn’t reply.
“Nick, no…you’re not…serious, are you?”
He doesn’t trust himself to speak.
“Nick, stop it. What did they…”
He sighs.
“Oh my…” she said in a small voice. “Nick…you’re not a…they…”
“It’s fine,” he says, voice empty. “Bit of a stupid job to have, anyway. What with the risk of third degree burns and all.”
“Oh, no…Nick…no…but this can’t be…” Her voice is completely stunned. She can’t believe it either. Maybe she, too, is begging for this to be a dream. “It’s not fair! This can’t be right –“
“Well, there are a few pluses. After all, only thing I really have to worry about now is not being able to pay the bills–“
“Nick, no, stop –“
“--which is heaps better than having to do crazy stunts like running across burning –“
“That’s horrible,” she snaps, sounding close to tears. “Nick…I can’t believe it…tell me what happened!”
He doesn’t want to reply, doesn’t want to relive the whole horrible incident again…
“There was a piece of evidence,” he says. “It was given to me by a little girl, I don’t know who commissioned it, they planted it on me. I used it in the trial. It was forged. The prosecutor knew…called a witness…proved it and everything…and then..t-then –“
He can’t speak any longer. His throat seems to have constricted too tight to talk, and his eyes burn.
“But Nick…that’s not your fault…none of that’s your fault…”
“Mistake,” he whispers. “Stupid mistake…if I had just –”
“I…I’ll help you…”
Good luck with that, Maya.
“Nick, I’ll find them.”
“…What?”
“The person who fixed you up with the forged evidence,” she says forcefully. “I’m Kurain Master, now. That means I have authority. I can help you – I’ll find them and get you your badge back. Nick, I’ll help you.”
“You think you can…” He feels the faintest glimmerings of hope. “You can get my badge back?”
“I’m sure of it.” She is completely determined. “I promise, Nick. I’ll do it, I have to.”
“Thanks,” he whispers. He is having trouble speaking.
“So, that’s settled!” she chirps. “The culprit will be captured and I’ll get your badge back in no time!”
“Yeah,” he says more confidently.
“OK, don’t leave the office. I’m going to catch the train down to the city. See ya!” She hangs up.
It feels like a heavy, sickening weight in his insides has suddenly lightened. There is hope, after all! Maybe, this situation is salvageable…this isn’t permanent…Maya will help clear his name, and then everything...everything will return to normal…
When he puts the phone down on the desk, something rattles. He opens the drawer –
-and his insides freeze –
- because he has seen that black device attached to his phone line before, or something very similar.
He snatches the phone back up and dials Maya’s number, before realising he only knows the number of her mobile. She isn’t picking up. She must have been calling him from the Kurain phone earlier…
Oh, no - damn damn DAMN -
He rips out the wiretap and throws it in the bin. Who had put that wiretap there? He can’t say for sure, but he has a sinking feeling that it had something to do with the mysterious evidence forger. A sick, uneasy feeling is growing in the pit of his stomach. If he’s right about the person who placed the wiretap…then…
Paralysed with worry, he can do nothing but wait.
m
It’s getting later in the day. If Maya is coming, why isn’t she here by now…?
The knot of worry in his gut seems to grow even larger. He falls asleep on the couch, and dreams of Maya bursting in through the door, his badge in her hands. But he’s only dreaming, after all.
He wakes when the phone rings, and scrambles for the desk. Holding the phone to his ear, he croaks out a “yes?”
“Is this Mr Phoenix Wright?”
“That’s me! What is it?”
“This is Hotti Clinic…”
Please, no…
He listens. His hands, clutching the phone, begin to tremble uncontrollably.
Surely –
-not.
No.
Surely he is.
Dreaming.
He.
No.
This -
Has to be -
a dream -
“No…”
“I appreciate that this situation may be distressing you, Mr Wright. Ms Fey worked for you, yes?”
He remains silent.
She…
Can’t be…
No…
His vision blurs. He cannot see.
“Maya,” he chokes. “I…I need to know if she’s alright…”
“I’m sorry, Mr Wright. We are doing our best to identify the poison, and possibly the cure, but it is highly likely that she will remain in a coma. We hope she’ll wake up as soon as possible. However –“
He hangs up.
d
She does not look calm and peaceful, lost in her dreamless sleep. She is just empty, cruelly empty, gone, devoid of life, absent of energy, wit, everything that she had been.
There are two doctors and a nurse at her bedside. Her skin is deathly pale. She is hooked up to a life support system, pumping breath and food into her. They’ve taken the beads and ties out of her hair, and she’s wearing a shapeless white hospital gown. She looks different, like a stranger, a faded husk. Phoenix swallows, his hands shaking. Maybe if he just touches her – the spell will break – and she’ll wake up -
He reaches forward and grasps her white hand. She is so lifeless. This is so wrong. He feels numb all over, like this can’t be happening. Can’t be happening! He can’t possibly have lost everything he has, everything he cares about, in the short space of twenty-four hours…
How’s he going to tell Kurain? What’s he going to do without her? How’s he going to get his badge back now?
He blinks back tears. She wouldn’t have wanted him to cry…No.
NO. She’s still alive! He won’t accept this, he can’t, he just can’t. He has to believe in her, believe she will be alright. If he has faith in her, like he would for a client – and when hasn’t that worked? Oh right, YESTERDAY - if he just keeps his hope alive…
“Are you the visitor?” the nurse asks, coming forward.
He nods, not trusting himself to speak, and lets go of Maya’s hand.
“Take a seat. As you’re here, we’d like to ask you to fill out this form.”
The nurse hands him a sheet of paper, which he scans briefly. It contains questions about whether Maya had any allergies or special circumstances.
“Do you know…who did this to her?” he says, his voice unsteady.
The nurse shakes his head. “All we know is that she was riding on the train down to the city, when she simply…collapsed. A bystander rang an ambulance, which was waiting at the station when the train arrived.”
“I-I see…”
“How’d you find out her details? She doesn’t have a driving licence, how’d you find out her name and that you had to contact me?”
“Oh, from that strange card she was carrying, with the funny design on it–“
“I need to see the card,” Phoenix cuts in, scanning the room. He spies a plastic tub sitting on a bench next to the bed, containing some purple cloth. Maya’s clothes…
“Hey, easy now,” the nurse says, looking alarmed. “I can’t just go around letting people see patient’s private-“
“I don’t have time for this,” Phoenix snaps. He stands, grabs the tub and finds the card.
The tub falls to the ground, but Phoenix merely stares at the pink shell design on the card Maya had been carrying. The mark of Shelley de Killer, the assassin…
On the flip side of the card is written Maya’s name and Phoenix’s phone number. At the bottom, De Killer has written in very small letters:
To Whom It May Concern:
I have done my duty, and have kept faith with my client. However, due to our…history, I have decided to give you a chance. She will remain in a coma for seven years at the most, after which she will die - unless, of course, you wake her up first.
Keep faith.
-De Killer
So there is a chance…all hope is not lost…a slim chance, but one he will take. He will wake her up.
Phoenix surreptitiously slips the card into his briefcase. “So she was poisoned?”
One of the doctors nods, fiddling with a complex system of tubes. “Yes. We’ve run a blood test. The type of poison administered to Ms Fey causes the victim to sink into a prolonged coma, and then death…”
This isn’t looking good.
“Is there a…is there a cure?”
The nurse shrugs. “Not an official one. But we’ve had a patient in poisoned with the same stuff before, and he woke up after smelling some coffee. ‘Course, that might’ve just been his coffee addiction, and he wasn’t in very good shape afterwa –“
“What did you say?” Phoenix interrupts. “Who was this guy?”
“Does patient confidentiality mean nothing to you, Williams?” the doctor asks exasperatedly.
“Oh, you know him, don’t you?” the nurse says, ignoring the doctor. “You’re Phoenix Wright, right? You’ve met Godot.”
o
“The poison,” Phoenix says. “The poison that put you into a coma. Do you know anything about it?” He leans forward, white-knuckled fists resting on his knees.
Diego Armando sits back and waits.
“Do you know…do you have any idea how you were cured? Really, I mean.”
“I told you,” says Armando lazily. “I smelled coffee. And then I woke up.” He sips at the mug in his hand. Phoenix meets his gaze, red slits of the visor leaving imprints on his vision.
“That can’t be true, and you know it.”
“Oh, can’t it?”
Armando beckons to a security guard, whispering something. The man pales, takes the cup from his hands and rushes out of the cell.
“What was that?”
“It had milk in it.” He shrugs. “Milk dulls the bitterness of even the best brew.”
“Mr Armando. Are you telling me that none of the medical staff taking care of you ever brought coffee to work? That the first time you breathed in coffee was five years after you were placed in a coma?”
Armando surveys him coolly, reaching out to accept a new mug from a quivering security guard. “Well, that is what happened, Wright. Don’t make me say this again…I smelled coffee, and then I woke up.”
When Phoenix slams the desk hard, the table rattles, and several pens roll off it and onto the floor. He stands. Armando remains motionless.
“I need to know,” Phoenix says, voice barely shaking at all, “if there is a cure for the poison. I need to know what it is. And I need to know how to get it…”
Armando waits.
And then.
“…Please…” Phoenix bows his head, his shoulders slumping.
Armando leans forward, so that his face is very close to Phoenix’s.
“Who was poisoned, Wright?” he asks softly.
Phoenix looks up. The red lights of the visor bore into him. He feels like they can read the answer in his soul, like they somehow know that he has, once again, failed to protect –
--but no, he has not failed, he is not like Godot. He has to keep faith, he must believe that she will wake. He will make it happen.
“Maya,” he says.
Godot chugs the coffee down in one gulp, and then throws the mug aside. It shatters on the concrete of the cell floor.
“Something different about you today, I’ve noticed,” he says, smooth and deep and not at all simmering with rage, right?
Phoenix blinks. “What?”
Armando leans forward again, and jabs a finger at Phoenix’s lapel, the empty spot where his badge had been not so long ago.
“That right there.” He smirks slightly. “Tell me, Wright…what happened?”
“Don’t you read the papers?” Phoenix’s voice is neutral.
“Heh, papers? They’re all a pack of lies.”
Phoenix made a sound that made have indicated agreement.
“Are you going to tell me or not?”
“What difference does it make? Fine…I’ll tell you…” He rests his forehead into his palm. “I’ve been disbarred, on the charge of presenting falsified evidence. And now…Maya is gone too...”
Silence.
“I’m, uh, going to get her back, though,” he says to fill it.
“That’s a shame,” says Armando pleasantly.
“What?”
“I thought you were good,” he says, still in a calm, pleasant tone of voice. “I thought you were Mia’s equal. I laid down my pride – “ his voice is rising now “—and I admitted I was wrong and I let you throw me in here, and now, you – you come and tell me that you’re a SHAM, you’ve been disbarred because you’re an evidence forger, and you’ve gone and lost Maya Fey, all in the SAME DAY!”
Phoenix remains quite still, his head bowed. He doesn’t speak up, doesn’t try to defend himself.
“I’m going to wake her up,” he whispers. “And then I’ll get my badge back.”
Armando stands. “You listen to me, Trite,” he growls.
“…my badge back…”
“You’re a failure, a pathetic excuse for a man –“
“…wake her up…”
“-I can’t believe Mia ever put her trust in you, you’ve never been worthy even to wash Mia Fey’s feet –“
“…and then I’ll…”
“—after all, now it turns out that you’re a CHEAT!”
“…I’m going to…”
“Did you cheat when you were up against me? How many times have you –“
“I’m going to wake her –“
“What are you muttering, Trite?” Armando snaps, breaking off his tirade.
Phoenix raises his head and looks straight at him.
“It no longer matters what you think of me,” he says, in a voice that is far too calm. “All I care about now…all that matters…”
His voice is strong, and his eyes are wild, and he is shaking, all over –
“-is that you tell me the real cure for the poison, RIGHT NOW!”
The roar leaves a deathly silence in its wake.
Armando blinks, and sits down, feeling all the rage suddenly drain out of him. Just tell him the cure. Maya has been poisoned with the same drug that he had been…he needs to have sympathy…this is to save Mia’s sister…
“I’m bound by law not to disclose the cure to anyone,” he says. “It’s illegal for anyone to know but medical specialists and patients who have been treated with it. I don’t think Maya was poisoned with the same stuff I was, that’d be too much of a coincidence. But I’ll bet that the cure that worked for me will work for her.”
Phoenix nods. “So how can I get hold of it?”
“It took years for the hospital I was at to secure access to this medicine,” Armando says. “Took a lot of legal wrangling and signing of forms, apparently. There isn’t any of it left in the country, because it’s illegal to import it nowadays.”
“And why is that?”
“Apparently, they make it from this foreign type of cocoon, but you can also make deadly poison from them. They decided it was too risky to have medicine made from the cocoons, even though that medicine can cure practically anything, and made them illegal.” Armando shrugs. “I got the last of it. I don’t know where you could find some more.”
Phoenix sits back, and Armando notes that the slightly mad look in his eyes has vanished.
“Thank y-“
“Mr Wright, you can leave now.”
“Mr Armando-“
“I never want to see your face again. Just go.”
i
Ring, ring.
Ring, ring.
Ring, ring-
“Hello, Miles Edgeworth speak--”
“Edgeworth!” It’s Wright’s voice, sounding panicky and urgent. “I need to speak to you!”
“Ah,” Edgeworth says. “I assume that this is in regards to –“
“Hear me out, please!”
“—the loss of your badge?”
Silence.
“Ehehe, yes…kind of…”
“Well, I’m sure you’d be glad to know that I am convinced of your innocence. I’m on the plane to America right now, in fact.”
“Really?” Wright’s voice is stunned. “Edgeworth, I-“
“Think nothing of it,” Edgeworth interrupts, smiling slightly. “It’s my duty to you…as your friend.”
“Thanks Edgeworth,” Wright says, sounding heartened. “Well, I’ve got some stuff I really need to talk to you about. Not just about the…thing. Something…something really terrible happened yesterday…and I really need your help…”
Edgeworth frowns. “What’s the matter?”
“Can’t say it on the phone!” Wright hisses, suddenly whispering. Edgeworth isn’t sure why. “I – I found a wiretap on my phone the other day, they might be watching me – they might be listening to this very call –“
“Wright, calm down! I’ll sort everything out when I get to you, agreed?”
There is a short pause.
“Yeah. That’s right. Yeah.”
“Meet me at the airport, alright?”
“Yeah. See you.”
n
He puts down the phone, and turns around. Kristoph Gavin is standing in the doorway.
“Phoenix Wright, I presume?”
“I met you at the…thing, right?” Phoenix asks. “You were the one who stood up for me?”
“That’s right.” For a moment, Kristoph’s eyes are obscured by light reflecting off his glasses.
“Uh, well…thanks,” Phoenix says lamely.
“May I sit down?”
“Yeah, sure…” He grabs a chair and pulls it up so that it’s facing the couch. “Uh, can we make this quick? I have to go out to the airport…”
His voice trails off as Kristoph sits, superbly immaculate. Feeling like he should have dressed in his suit instead of an old T-shirt and jeans, and at least brushed his hair, Phoenix clears a space on the couch and sits down nervously. Kristoph leans forward, his expression grave.
“Mr Wright…I have reason to believe that there is someone out there who has a deadly grudge towards you.”
Oh, really? You THINK? But Phoenix keeps his thoughts to himself. He can’t risk alienating one of the only people who believe him.
“Whoever this person is…they arranged the forged evidence scandal, I’m sure of it. And I have reason to believe that they will do anything to stop you getting your badge back. That way, you might find out who they are.”
Maya, in a coma…just after she had proclaimed that she would get Phoenix’s badge back, no matter what…
“It is my belief…that this person will find a way to dispose of anyone who professes a desire to help you regain your badge. I myself have hired two bodyguards and an armoured car.”
Anyone who wants to help him…
“Maya,” he says blankly.
“Maya? Who is that?”
“Never mind,” Phoenix says quickly. “So…are you saying that anyone…”
“Yes. I’m certain that anyone at all who wishes to help you is in danger.” He tilts his glasses. “I’m afraid that should anyone else approach you with help…the best course of action, if you wish to protect them – would be to cut off all contact with them entirely. I am sure you value the lives of your friends over your badge, yes…?”
Phoenix groans. He can’t handle this! “Can’t I just…”
He trails off. It’s no use – Kristoph is right. Even if they were forewarned…de Killer had so many resources, so much expertise…
“Thanks,” he says half-heartedly.
Kristoph smiles at him pleasantly. “Good day to you. I hope I have been of assistance…after all, I believe you. I just want to help.”
Phoenix barely registers Kristoph leaving. His heart is heavy and his hands are numb and shaking and he can’ t believe he’s doing this…
He picks up the phone. Dials.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
”You again, Wright?”
He takes a deep breath.
His badge, a fading memory…the chance of recovering it, slipping through his fingertips – vanishing –his whole life – the time he spent as a lawyer – he can see it vanishing, like a distant dream -
“Take the plane home, Edgeworth.”
“…Excuse me?”
“You can’t help me,” he says. “I’m sorry. But you can only help by uncovering the truth…”
“That’s correct! What are you blabbering about, Wright?”
“I forged that evidence to present in court, and it cost me my badge,” Phoenix says. “That’s all the truth there is. You can’t help me. Take the plane home.”
He hangs up.
Part of him hopes that Edgeworth will come anyway. That he’ll see through the lies, and come, bringing the badge with him…
He’s going to get Maya back.
He’s going to wake her up. He has to. He’s going to. He will.
And when she wakes up, she’ll get his badge back for him, like Edgeworth never will.
Edgeworth never comes.
g
Phoenix starts scrounging through his wardrobe, looking for something comfortable and clean that isn’t a suit. He can’t bear to look at the suit anymore, let alone wear it. He finds a reasonably new looking hoodie, and decides to go with that. Tracksuit pants work, too. Complete the outfit with a pair of sandals…and he’s looking in the mirror and laughing, because –
Nick, you idiot, you can’t dress like that! We can’t show up in court with you looking like a hobo, seriously!
“Maya, my badge is gone,” he explains patiently. “We’re not going back to court.”
Aww, meany head…you flushed it down the toilet while cleaning it, right? I know that’s what you did.
“I did not –“
There’s a ring at the doorbell, and suddenly Maya is gone again.
It’s a little girl in pink. She wants to stay with him.
“If you want,” he says indifferently, trying not to think of Pearls, and how similar she is to this kid. Trucy. But he can’t feel sorry for her. He’s got Maya to save.
Trucy nods happily and thanks him, then promptly nicks a frozen pizza out of the fridge and microwaves it. Maya had made him buy those pizzas. He was saving them for her. He would wake her up soon.
He lets Trucy eat it anyway, then tosses her a blanket for her to sleep on the couch. He’s got a makeshift bed set up in one of the adjacent rooms – this is a top-rate office, after all. It’s got plenty of rooms. How’s he going to keep paying the rent? He’s had to give up his apartment already…oh, and now he’s got to buy pizza for this kid.
When he gets up in the morning, he finds a letter posted to him anonymously. Inside it is a cheque for $500. There is a note alongside it. As he reads, a lump forms in his throat.
Wright – make this last. It’s nothing – I have a salary, and you don’t. I’ll send another next month. Swallow your pride – you need this money.
I don’t know why you told me to turn around and leave last week, but I know you. You didn’t forge that evidence. You’re too poor to afford the fee, anyway.
I trust that you have a good reason for so rudely telling me to fly all the way back home.
Edgeworth trusts him. His heart swells.
t
He is sitting in the hospital once again, staring at Maya’s lifeless form as if it will bring him answers. How’s he supposed to get hold of the medicine, honestly? But he will, he must, he will -
Behind him, in the corridor, he can hear the slight click-clack of rolling wheels. Like a wheelchair, perhaps.
“You’ve visited the coma ward before, Mr Dingling?”
“Whenever I get the chance.” The voice is deep and calm. Phoenix turns around.
His hands are cuffed and he is wearing prison gear, but it is unmistakeably Acro who is wheeling himself into the ward for coma patients. He gives no sign of having noticed Phoenix, but merely wheels himself towards a curtained bed that Phoenix hadn’t thought to check before.
The nurse draws the drapes away. “He’s doing fine,” he says quietly.
“Any sign of…?”
“No. Not yet. But the doctor thinks that there’s still – a significant chance –“
Acro wheels himself forward, stares into his brother’s sleeping face. “Sean,” he whispers, and he reaches forward with his cuffed wrists and takes hold of his brother’s hand. The nurse retreats into a corner, trying to look unobtrusive.
Phoenix doesn’t want to face Acro, or talk to him. The guy probably knows all about the forging incident by now, everyone does. As he stares at Maya’s cold, pale face- Maya, Maya, Maya, he croons, and strokes her hand, and just wants beyond anything else for her to wake - it occurs to him that now he finally has an inkling of what Acro went through when his brother was put into a coma.
And then he hears Acro’s voice. “Mr Wright –is that you?”
Unwillingly, he stands and turns to face the acrobat, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets.
“Yeah,” he says. His voice is cracked. He hasn’t been speaking much.
“I read the news last week,” Acro says.
“Uh-huh.”
He wheels himself closer. “Mr Wright…you didn’t forge evidence in the trial I was convicted in. I know that much.”
“...that’s right.”
“I don’t know if you’ve changed since then…” He looks Phoenix up and down; takes in the hoodie, the sandals, the tracksuit pants, the purple bags under his eyes. “I know I have. Maybe you did forge evidence. Did you?”
“No,” Phoenix says wearily, and turns away. “But it doesn’t matter anymore…” I need to wake up Maya first…
“…Is that…that girl who was with you? Maya?”
Acro’s finally seen Maya. “Yes,” Phoenix says.
“Oh,” Acro says.
“Go back to your brother,” Phoenix snaps.
“I’m sorry,” he says. And then he does.
Phoenix sits down again.
Acro leaves half an hour later. He stops at Phoenix’s chair, an oddly strained look on his face, and says, “I’m so sorry. I really am. I’d like to give you some advice. Don’t…don’t let it eat you up. You can hope, you can have faith that they will wake up…but you can’t let it take you over, because then it’ll twist you and turn into something horrible. That happened to me, remember? And because of that…I killed the Ringmaster…”
Phoenix says nothing.
“Get on with your life. You owe it to her.” And then he rolls out through the door and Phoenix knows he will never see him again.
But he can’t get on with his life, Acro knows, can’t he see? It’s impossible, unthinkable. The only thing he can think to do next – wake Maya up. And then she’ll get his badge back. And then he’ll wake up from this horrible dream and the world will snap back into place and this will be over –all over – all over –
h
“Hey, Trucy…do you know anything about Borginia?”
“Yep!” the kid chirps. “I think it’s some place in Europe. The Gramaryes come from there. My daddy says that Grandad Magnifi could speak the language!”
Magnifi…it hurts to hear that name.
“Okay…what about Borginian cocoons, then?”
“Oh, I’m sorry…don’t know anything about them,” Trucy says, suddenly anxious, twisting the hem of her cape.
“Hey, uh…no need to be anxious or anything,” Phoenix says nervously. He doesn’t know how to deal with little kids other than Pearls, really. “I’ll just find out some other way…”
“No!” Trucy leaps up, suddenly determined. “I’ll find out about them for you, Daddy! You can count on me!”
“…Daddy?” Since when was he her ‘daddy’?
But she has already left the office. Phoenix shrugs, and continues to think about ways to wake her up. If he has faith, he can do it.
i
“Daddy! Daddy! I found someone who knows about Borginian cocoons!” Trucy yells excitedly, barging in through the door. Phoenix looks up, jolted out of his reverie.
“What? Really?” he asks in surprise.
“Yep! Want to go and see him? If you want to get one, he can help you get one!”
Phoenix leaps up and grabs his hoodie, pulling it on. “Lead the way, Truce!”
s
The man is sitting in the downstairs room of a dingy bar with a Russian word in its name. Phoenix beats him at poker.
“You’re good, you are,” he observes, leaning back.
“It’s easier than law,” he says, but that’s only part of it. He made quite a few good calls because of Trucy eagerly whispering hints in his ear. That girl has a gift. He wonders how she can tell what people are feeling like that.
“I have quite a few useful contacts in Borginia,” says the man. “I can get them to make you the medicine…for a price.”
Oh, great. “How much?”
“A, uh, fair amount. It’s quite difficult to get hold of and make. You don’t look all that rich, though.”
“You’re right, I’m not,” Phoenix admits.
“Well…I can see you want this medicine bad.” The man interlocks his fingers together and leans forward again. “Tell you what, I’ll get you a job here and you can pay for it that way. I’m the owner of this place – the Borscht Bowl Club. This room here is the Hydeout. It’s where the resident poker champ stays. You need a respectable front while not playing poker, though, so at all other times you’d be playing piano upstairs. Sound like a deal?”
“I’ll take it,” Phoenix says.
f
He visits Maya every day. Sometimes he thinks he can hear her voice, whispering in his ear. One time, she wakes up, and embraces him, and they go home together, and Pearls and Edgeworth are there. Not the twisted mockeries of his dream, Trucy and Kristoph. But it turns out that that was a dream, too, and he still cannot wake up from this nightmare.
The medicine, his new boss says, will take at least six months to find ingredients for, a day to make and then another six years to mature. Before maturation, it’s poison. Coma inducing poison.
”Six – six years?!”
His boss shrugs. “Take it or leave it. You’ve got no other way to get hold of this medicine.”
And he sighs, nods and accepts that. Perhaps this will take a bit longer than he was expecting, but it’s a solution, one that he’s very lucky to have. Maya will wake up. He will get the medicine and wake her up.
Trucy is eager to please. He feels like he should pay more attention to her, and maybe treat her like she’s his daughter – she needs a parent, after all! – but he can’t seem to bring himself to do it.
He brings her to work, and she helps him beat all his opponents at poker. Nothing will help his piano skills, though. He soon builds up a reputation for being undefeated, and more clients come in. Soon it becomes difficult to get away from work to visit Maya. He still makes it, though. Every day. And he contemplates her still, cold face, and sometimes she whispers in his ear.
o
One night, he beats a rather nasty man called Rory Lane at poker, and he’s proud of it, because he had made sure that Trucy wouldn’t be here for this match.
Lane is mean and tough and he cheats. And when he loses, he isn’t happy at all. He grabs his bowl of borscht, and smashes it on the table, and he smashes his bottle of beer, and swears at Phoenix, who really isn’t cut out for this kind of thing.
The boss runs downstairs with some bouncers, and they drag the guy out, but he comes back the next day, and knocks the bouncers out with a brick. He forces his way down to the Hydeout, and challenges Phoenix to another game.
Phoenix is winning when the boss enters again.
“Wright, what’s going on?”
“I’m, uh, playing poker with Mr Lane…”
The boss nods, eyes impassive. “I see. Do you know what he did to one of the bouncers for this club?”
No.
“He knocked them out. They’re heading to hospital about now. And he already renounced his right to play you again when he had that temper tantrum last night.”
“Shut up!” Lane spits. The guy’s a psychopath. He knocks over the table, and grabs his chair and throws it at Phoenix’s boss, who dodges.
“Wright, I don’t have time for this guy!” he yelps. “Can you get rid of him for me?”
Phoenix flattens himself against the wall. “What? What do you mean?”
“What do you think I mean, you idiot! Don’t you have a knife on you?!”
“No!” Phoenix shouts, desperate. “No, what, no, I can’t do this – you can’t tell me to – I can’t do this – I can’t – kill – I can’t kill someone –“
“Oh, must have forgotten to put it in the job description, sorry!” his boss yells back, dodging the plates that Lane is now throwing. “Here, use this knife!”
Phoenix catches it by the blade by accident, and swears when blood starts trickling down his hand.
“Look, Wright, I’m the one who’s getting you this medicine!” says the boss furiously. “If you don’t do this right now, then you’re not up for the job and I’ll go upstairs and phone Borginia and tell them their client is a freaking coward and that they don’t have to bother! Do it or you’re out of a job!”
Phoenix is frozen, his eyes wide, he can’t think, no – he can’t lose this chance! Maya. NO –
Lane rushes at him, howling, and Phoenix stabs out blindly and it goes through the man’s throat and there is so – much – blood –
I’m doing this for Maya for her–please – please – forgive me – no –I’m doing this for her – for her – for her –for her – for Maya, so that she will wake up, I have faith, please –
He has seen blood many times before. It has never, never, never been this red.
r
Phoenix is paranoid that they’ll find out somehow, that they’ll track him down, but his boss is less worried. “You spent too much time as a lawyer,” he tells him. “You uncovered a lot of killers, but I’m betting that twice as many went free. Besides, the guy deserved it.” But you can’t start thinking like that, because that’s when you stop thinking of people as people.
They’ve been as thorough with eliminating the evidence as possible. Phoenix was a lawyer, after all; he knows what can catch you out, the vital evidence, the vital witness that you somehow miss. But he can barely stand the guilt, the fear, the overwhelming desire to escape from this dream. The thought of Maya, and that he must save her, is the only thing keeping him from turning himself over to the police. Phoenix tugs at his new hoodie. It’s not as comfy as the old one was, but it’s not covered in blood.
He gets yet another cheque from Edgeworth, and considers writing back to tell him to stop sending them, he doesn’t deserve the money, especially not from someone as good as Edgeworth, but he needs the money and he can’t give it up. What would Edgeworth do if he knew that Phoenix was a killer, a murderer, a criminal…hah. There’s no question. Edgeworth would take him to court and he’d be in jail by now.
And then, three months later, there’s another disturbance, another customer who won’t play by the rules.
Phoenix buys another hoodie, and then he breaks down and cries in the middle of the store. He doesn’t tell Trucy why.
She makes him a beanie to cheer him up. It’s bright blue and pink and tacky, and further adds to his ‘decrepit hobo’ image, but he accepts it anyway. She might start crying herself if he doesn’t.
h
And time wears on. And he makes more death. But only to the people who deserve it.
He’s doing this for Maya. Even if the whole world turns against him, and he drowns in a sea of blood, he has to remember that he’s doing this to save her.
Nick…you’ll save me, won’t you?
Of course I will.
You’ll wake me up?
I’m doing this for you.
Keep faith. Don’t give up hope.
And the fire of hope surges within him, and he knows that he’s doing the right thing, and then his guilt lightens, and then it fades, and soon he is wondering what it felt like - if it was ever there at all.
e
He stares at Maya’s cold, pale face, and grasps her hand, as he so often does. There are no visitors, and the nurse is out fetching something.
“Nick, you aren’t worried, are you?”
‘Course not, Maya.
You sure? And he imagines that she is smiling. You seem plenty worried to me. C’mon, lighten up, old man -
And on an impulse, a whim, he leans down and touches his lips to hers.
He can feel her deep, slow, breaths, her pulse, the coldness of her skin. He reaches around and grabs her long black hair, and tangles his hands in it, and he kisses her, explores her dry, cold mouth. He pretends she is alive, she is with him, she is moaning into his embrace -
Nick, she whispers, and he cradles her in his arms and realises – a blank, my lord; she never told her love, but let concealment, like a worm in the bud, feed on her damask cheek – and how had never guessed, never realised? And he finally understands; he has faith, he has hope, he has love, and so did she.
He pulls away, breathing hard.
This is love, she whispers in his ear.
The passing of time is less painful now. It is almost quick.
r
And finally, the cure, the medicine! It is here, in his hands, and she will wake up! The hospital purchases it all in a flash, and there – he rushes into the ward, six years, all for this moment – he sees the medicine pumping into her arm from the IV drip – and –
The monitor beeps to indicate her heart rate is rising –
-she stirs – raises a finger – an arm –
“It’s working!” the doctor says in excitement.
And it is; she is attempting to open her eyes – and there, she is opening them, still unfocused and hazy – but she is awake! He knew it, it’s paying off, euphoria soars through his veins.
“Have a seat, Mr Wright.”
But he can’t, oh, he can’t! He is jubilant, triumphant, dizzy with happiness. And Maya sits up – “steady, there you go –“ and she licks her lips and says “Water…”
“Here, Ms Fey.”
They help her pour it down her throat. She gasps and wipes her mouth clumsily.
“I was on the train,” she says hoarsely, slowly. “Where am I?”
“Ms Fey…I’m really sorry. This might be hard to accept. You’re in hospital –“
She gasps. “What? No!” She is trying to speak fast, speak loud, but her voice is breathy and quiet from six years’ lack of use. “I need to get to Nick –“
“Ms Fey, you have been in a coma for six years,” the nurse breaks in. The doctor hisses through his teeth, something about being sensitive, Williams.
Her face is completely blank with shock. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she says.
“I’m really sorry,” says the doctor gently. “But that’s the truth. While on the train, you were poisoned by an unknown person. We thought you would stay in a coma forever, but we got hold of the medicine eventually. And here you are.”
“Ah,” she whispers. Her head falls back onto the pillow.
The doctor is smiling broadly. “Amazing! It’s just like with that Armando fellow, wakes them up straight away!” She bustles out of the room. “I must update the records…”
“Sir, if you could please leave, now,” the nurse says, turning to Phoenix politely. “I don’t know how you got in – we were performing an important medical procedure – but Ms Fey still has a lot of recovery to do. You can come again t-“
He grabs a scalpel from the bench.
Yes…
Well. Now he’s going to have to throw out this hoodie, too.
He drops the scalpel, and Maya is there, she is alive, she is awake. “Maya,” he says, and saying her name is like heaven, it is bliss, because this time she raises her head again and she looks at him hazily and she says “Nick?” and she furrows her brow and says, “Who are you?”
“Oh, Maya,” he says, and he reaches forward and gathers her up and she smiles in delight and throws her arms around his neck and squeals indignantly and punches him weakly, faintly, because she’s been in a coma for six years. “Get off, Mister! And – what, is this blood on your clothes– is that –oh my God, I can’t handle this! Get off!” Tears gather at the corners of her eyes.
He sets her down on the clean white floor, and she stumbles slightly, her knees giving way. But Phoenix supports her, placing an arm around her waist. “That’s a dead body!” she yells. “Murderer!”
She smiles at him, radiant as ever, and he smooths down her hair and he looks into her eyes and then she ceases her struggles, because she has seen, seen something staggering, horrific, not-true-can’t-be-true-please-don’t-be-true –
“…Nick? Is that…you?” She reaches up and tugs off his beanie. “It’s…you’re…no…”
“Yes,” he says. “Can you walk?”
“Nick…what…what’s happened to you?” She leans into his chest and starts to cry. “I don’t understand…is this a dream?”
“It’s not a dream,” he says, lost in bliss. “This is waking up.” And he leans down and kisses her, and she moans in delight and reaches up and threads her fingers in his hair squeals and struggles, but she is weak, too weak. She places her feet on the ground firmly, and she can walk, she can, if she concentrates.
And now they are spinning in a circle, and he has one arm around her waist and the other clutching her hand and they waltz, they dance, around around around she laughs and butterflies gather around her and their feet slip and slide in the blood on the floor. Maya is laughing crying and chatting protesting, and she is wondering if they can go out for burgers has he killed someone, why has he killed someone, this isn’t Nick, no – but it is – it’s him – why – he kisses her again, he had faith, he had hope, but the greatest of these is love, and love conquers all, it keeps no record of wrongs, it does not delight in evil but rejoices in the truth, and the truth is here, now, and forever, and the truth is bliss love happiness screaming in his arms.
This is very much like a dream, actually, and she wishes it were so. There’s only one problem.
Maya Fey has just woken up, and she isn’t dreaming.

-After State vs Engarde-

I can't breathe, and tell him so in choking gasps. He releases me from the tight hug and apologises. His arms really are quite long. He's a tall guy, could be intimidating if he wanted. But that's not who he is - it's so, so far removed from his personality that I literally can't imagine Nick being genuinely scary any more than I can imagine Mr. Edgeworth being a fan of Steel Samurai.

I'm so glad, he says. So glad you're alive.

Well, here I am, I reply. I would say more, but I'm too hungry.

DeKiller could have killed you, Nick says. He would have killed you.

Maybe Nick is hungry too. Something tells me he wouldn't try and remind me what I'd been through if he was fully awake. He's swaying slightly on his feet, and there are shadows under his eyes.

Sorry, Nick.

Don't apologise. He nearly killed you! I nearly failed...

He enfolds me in another hug, as if checking that I'm actually here, actually alive. Pearly's crept away, probably to give me some alone time with my "special someone". No matter what I try, I can't get her to realise that we're just like brother and sister. But she's right about one thing; Nick is someone who I know very, very well. I practically live with the guy.

So I can tell that he's saying to me, this very moment; Maya...I'll protect you. I'll make sure you're safe. Whatever it takes. It's just that he's not using words.

It should be comforting. But behind me, Mr Edgeworth is asking Mr. Powers for an autograph and I'm getting chills down my spine.

Well, tell you what, you can make it up to me by letting me eat as much as I can tonight!

Like I can ever stop you from stuffing your stomach to the brim... He lets go of me, scratching the back of his neck and grinning. I lunge at the nearest food-laden table and begin to eat. I can feel Nick looking at me for a moment, and then he turns around and begins chatting to Mr. Edgeworth.

But even the steak I'm munching on right now can't dispel the nervous lump in my stomach.

Whatever it takes.

***

-Post State vs Iris, pre State vs Gramarye-

February 15, Hotti Clinic, 2:17 PM

Ow. Owwwww. My head.

I lick my lips, attempt to open my eyes, and groan. It's too bright, so that plan doesn't work out. My head feels like it's been bashed with the Samurai Spear, or possibly the Magistrate Mallet. Ow.

Is this how you feel after you've drunk too much rotten grape juice? Nick explained that feeling to me once. He said it was called a 'hangover' and that he'd sworn off alcohol to avoid ever having another one, ever -

That knife, in his hand. That damn knife. The glass table's in ruins. Razor sharp shards scattered everywhere. Two figures; one lying prone on the ground, blood on his neck. The other one is kneeling next to him. He drops the blood-covered knife, leans forward, and smooths the body's eyes closed with one hand. Then he turns around and looks at me.

No. I don't think I have a hangover.

"You awake then, sweetie?"

I try licking my lips again, and manage to get out a sort of breathy 'yeah'. Ow. My head.

"Took a nasty blow to the head, you did. Admitted to the clinic by an ambulance."

"R-really?" I try opening my eyes again, blinking a couple of times to adjust to the light. I'm lying in a hospital bed. My hair's undone – dang, it'll take ages to brush the knots out of it now. My clothes are folded up and resting on the table next to my bed. I'm wearing one of those a white hospital gowns.

The speaker is a nurse, with a warm smile on her face and a badge proclaiming that she worked for 'Hotti Clinic'. Hmm. I think Nick mentioned that place once –

-blood streaming from his hands, blood on the knife, blood on the other man's neck, red glass scattered on the floor...

I take a deep breath, and try to stop trembling. Right. First things first; find out what on Earth happened to give me a knock on the head this bad.

Hmm. Nothing. I search back through my memories, but I can't find a memory of getting knocked on the head like this. There's nothing...just...nothing. I try to recall the vision I just had, the memory of blood and steel but it's already fading, leaving just an impression of fear and anger.

Well, it's not like I've lost my memory. My name is Maya Fey, I've got a kid cousin, Pearly, who is the most adorable person on the planet ever, in episode 13 season 4 of 'Samurai of Time' the Timey-Wimey Samurai was cloned, and his clone lived happily with Sakura in a parallel universe for the rest of time. I work for a lawyer with a blue suit who's closer to me than pretty much anyone, and my (late) older sister is the closest thing I've known to a mother...yeah, I know all that stuff. Check.

But when I try to remember exactly what happened...

Well, it's probably time to use the Deadly Secret Unknown-to-mere-mortals Maya Investigation Technique, then...

"What...happened?"

The nurse shrugs, writing something down on a clipboard at the end of my bed. "You tell me, sweetie. The doctor says that nasty blow to the head, so you might have just a smidge of amnesia."

"Amnesia..." I ease myself into a sitting position. Turns out I'm just pretty groggy. I bet I could get up and walk home right now if I wanted to.

"Yeah, but Doc said it wasn't too bad. You were quite lucky, actually. Should be up and running in no time, but we can't discharge you until we're sure of your condition."

I groan inwardly, wanting to get out of here ASAP, and try out a hopeful grin that will dazzle her with its chipper-ness and energy. It makes my face hurt. She laughs and leaves the room, carrying the clipboard with her.

Well, dang. I slump back against the pillows. Nick had better come and visit me soon.

A couple of hours pass. I contemplate just leaving, like I'd thought about earlier, but my throbbing head makes the decision for me. I'm just about to search among my clothes for my phone, so I can ring up Pearly and tell her I'm in hospital, when Detective Gumshoe barges into the ward.

"Gumshoe!" I yell, overjoyed that something interesting is finally happening, and sit up straight in my bed."What's going on? Who was murdered? Why'd I get hit on the head? Where's Nick?"

"Hey, pal," he says cheerfully, though he's looking a little pale and tired. Of course, he always looks like that – hungry, too. He sure could do with a burger. "It's my day off, so I figured I'd come down to the hospital to visit ya! Oh, and the Chief wanted someone to ask you a few questions..."

"Just as well – I was tearing my hair out down here!" I say, puffing my cheeks out in protest at the hospital staff's indirect injury to my hair. "And I'm really confused – apparently I got hit on the head really hard, and now I can't remember what happened! Where's Nick?"

"Oh yeah, the paramedics said you might have a bit of a headache, pal," he grins, scratching the back of his neck. "And that thing...ammy neza?"

"Amnesia. But why do I have it in the first place, anyway? And why isn't Nick here, bringing me grapes and sobbing in relief that I'm not dead?"

"He really wanted to see you, but he's in a bad state," Gumshoe says uncomfortably. "Covered in blood. He's down at the detention centre right now, in questioning."

It's not right, after everything that he's done for me, every time he's saved me and believed in me and paid for my lunch, that I should jump to the worst conclusion right now. It's straight out wrong.

Well. Too late.

"Why?"

"Um..." He shifts nervously in his seat, and begins to babble. "I don't really know, pal. Nobody told me about it. It's my day off, and everyone's stressed about Mack Brie being murdered and Subby Way being the murderer, y'know, and Mr Wright...well, I don't know, I don't even have the proper autopsy results! Stop staring at me like that, pal!"

I slowly let go of the blankets, and rub my knuckles. They've gone white.

"Um, could you, you know, start from the beginning?" I ask.

"Well...it's kinda all my fault," Gumshoe mumbles. "One of our best detectives, Mack Brie, was found dead in his house at about 11:30. The murder weapon had been taken away. And another top ranking officer, Mr Way, hadn't turned up that morning. You two didn't have a case on, so I asked you to have a poke around his house...y'know pal, you do turn up a lot of stuff that we detectives miss...and then, half an hour later, Mr Wright called 911, a couple of officers arrived at Mr Way's house to find you unconscious, Mr Wright in shock and the dead body of Mr Way on the floor...oh, and a knife. I'm not sure, 'cause nobody will tell me anything much, but it turns out you two stumbled onto something. Then Mr Way turned up and...I don't know what happened, pal. He didn't come out of it alive, though."

Blood and shock and darkness.

"What about the other dead guy? Mr Brie?" I ask.

"Dunno, but I bet Mr Way killed him, pal. He'd been murdering Brie instead of turning up for work, is my guess...not surprising – they'd been rivals for a long time. I know how Brie died, anyway. Stab wound to the heart, with a knife about six inches long. The murder weapon was taken away from Mr Brie's house, though. "

I nod -

"Found anything interesting?" he whispers to me, as he searches through Mr Way's bookshelf. I'm sifting through the mass of paperwork on the glass kitchen table. Seriously, who has a kitchen table made of glass? It might be pretty, but if you wanted to stand on it while acting out scenes from the latest Steel Samurai movie you'd be seriously injured before too long.

That gushing noise, like running water, is starting to bother me.

"Not yet- wait! Nick, look what I found!"

"Keep your voice down!" He hurries to join me by the kitchen sink

It's a stainless steel kitchen knife – the stainless steel part is engraved into the blade – about six inches long not counting the handle, which is also flat and metal. The blade is covered in drying blood. Nick opens the kitchen drawer. The style of knife doesn't match the others Mr Way owns.

"I think we've got our proof," says Nick. The gushing noise has stopped.

Behind me, a door clicks open. "Yes, you do."

I turn around. This man must be Subby Way. His hands are wet, like he's been washing them. I've seen the look in his eyes before. It's the slightly mad look of a killer who knows he must go to any lengths to conceal his crime.

Nick tries to speak, but Mr Way is at the bench and has grabbed the knife and pointed it at me and suddenly everything is happening very fast.

I take a deep breath.

"Pal? Maya?" Gumshoe's waving a hand in front of my face. I blink.

"Sorry," I say. "Right. I bet you know some stuff about Mr Way's death, though. How'd he die?"

"I don't know anything for certain, pal, I didn't even get the autopsy, but from what I've heard..." He shrugs. "Blood loss from a wound to the neck."

But I knew that already, didn't I?

No. No. No. No. No.

"Did Nick...he...did he do it?" I can feel tears starting in the corners of my eyes. He can't do this to me. No.

Dead silence.

"See, pal, I don't know anything but what I've told you..." He shifts uneasily, yet again. "He could have. Could be in detention 'cause he's a suspect. Or they could just be questioning him. And he did alert the police..."

I think there might be tears running down my cheeks now. "You think he did it. You think he murdered someone."

"I heard of one time when he shoved a man over and then concealed it from the police when that man was found dead..." Gumshoe tries.

Yeah, that case. Nick told me about that case after Iris's trial. But whoever he was then, he's not that person anymore.

"Visiting time up," says the nurse, bustling in.

Three glowing bars of red light in the darkness – I have to hide what I saw! But he uncovered that lie in the end, didn't he? He showed me what was right.

Is that the world falling to pieces around my ears? Might be.

"He didn't do it!" I say, but it comes out as a sobbing moan. "He's innocent! You're wrong!"

I'm wrong! Please.

Gumshoe is ushered out with a stricken expression on his face, protesting to the nurse that he has to ask me some questions. When he's gone, the nurse awkwardly makes attempts to comfort me, but I burrow under the sheets and ignore her, like a petulant child. That's all I am to people, right? She writes something on a clipboard and leaves.

Mia Fey, my big sis, taught me about right and wrong when I was a little kid. Sometimes I didn't listen. But when she died, suddenly everything about her, especially her moral code, got a lot more precious.

And Nick practically lives that moral code, right? I trust him to do the right thing. To find the truth, to believe in his clients, to follow the law. Well. The important laws, anyway.

The law about murder's a pretty important one, wouldn't you think?

When I was trapped in Matt Engarde's cellar, I told him by way of a note to do the right thing. Don't rescue me, don't even think about letting that evil man go. I trusted Nick to do his duty as a lawyer. To do the right thing, not to put protecting me first. I wondered what I'd have done if he'd failed to rescue me, and had chosen to pursue the Not Guilty verdict. I think I remember promising myself that I'd never see him again.

This time, I don't think I can quite bear seeing him again either. What the heck do I do? He didn't murder anyone! He didn't! He's believed in me so many times, now I've got to believe in him! Why should I? It's so obvious. It's so cruelly, painfully, apparent, the possibility that Phoenix Wright has murdered a man.

And suddenly the knife is pressed against my throat, and I've been backed up against the table. Mr Way looks at Nick, whose eyes are wide and staring. "You say one word to the police, and –"

Nick barrels into him, knocking him sideways. I'm thrust away, and I crack my head hard against the marble kitchen bench. Through my slowly dimming vision, I watch the knife fall to the floor. Nick snatches it up.

"Don't. Touch. Maya."

He rushes at Way, who dodges sideways, smashing into the glass table, which turns out to be really quite fragile after all. Nick loses his balance and I close my eyes. I hear sounds of a two men

When I look back, still attempting to fight back the tide of unconsciousness threatening to drag me away, Nick is still holding the blood-covered knife, and he's kneeling next to Mr Way, who has blood on his neck and is gasping in pain. Then there's silence.

Nick sets the knife down next to him and smooths the body's eyes shut.

Then he turns to look at me. That brutal anger that made him pick up a knife is fading from his eyes, and I know he's ashamed.

"Maya," he says, and reaches out a hand to me just before I finally pass out.

Oh, and he did it because of me. I guess we have a motive now. That just about takes the bloody cake.

I think that might be the first time I've ever, ever said 'bloody' in that context. Even in my head.

I groan and drop my head in my hands. That image of Nick clutching the bloodstained knife as he kneels over the dying Mr Way keeps popping up every time I close my eyes. I can't believe I'm thinking this. He's got to be innocent. He wouldn't have killed someone, just because that person threatened to hurt me. He wouldn't have.

But there is a ton of evidence that he did commit murder. And I don't have any that contradicts it.

Follow the law.

Find the truth.

Believe in your clients.

But Nick never needed evidence to prove to him that his clients were innocent. He just believed. Believed in anyone who ever asked him for help. He took impossible cases and fought them so that the innocent could go free, so the truth could be found. I was right next to him. He's believed in me, even when I myself was convinced that I was a murderer.

The evidence in my head is stacked up against him. But I reach a conclusion.

It's all wrong.

I could just escape from hospital, go down to detention, barge into questioning and ask what actually happened. But I want to do this myself. I want to prove this to myself.

What would Sis say? Look at the situation from a different angle. All I've got to go on is my memories of the fight, right? And Phoenix would never, ever, ever kill someone (you weren't so sure of that a minute ago, a snarky part of my head reminds me). Therefore, something is wrong with the picture in my head.

Nick is kneeling next to the man on the ground. He drops the knife, which is covered in dried blood, on the ground next to him. Then he leans forward and smooths Mr Way's eyes shut. The two men are surrounded by viciously sharp shards of glass. Nick has a couple of scratches on his arms and legs. Then he turns around and looks at me.

I can barely suppress a grin. I get out of bed, put on my coat and sandals, and leave the room, avoiding nurses and doctors and that creepy guy with that pink tuft of hair. I head down to the detention centre and sit down on a chair in the visitor's room, swinging my legs impatiently.

When Nick comes out of questioning, looking pale and tired and with scratches and scrapes covering all his limbs, I leap up and barrel into him before he even registers my presence.

"NIIIIIIIIICK!"

"Maya!" he exclaims in surprise. "What are you doing here?" He wraps his arms around me anyway.

"Visiting you," I say cheerfully. "They only let you out just now? That's police brutality!"

"You're alright..." He hugs me tighter.

"Oh, I'm always alright," I say. I think I might be crying again. Dang.

"Maya – what is it?" He looks worried and uncertain. I smile at him to reassure him.

"Oh...just glad...you know..."

"What is it?"

"Y-you didn't kill him. The blood on that knife, it was totally d-dry," I sniffle, wiping my face. "It was Mr Brie's blood, not Mr Way's. He cut his neck open on the glass shards in the scuffle when you were fighting, and he bled to death."

Nick lets go of me. "I was going to," he mutters. "I had that knife in my hand and..."

"But you didn't. You're better than that, Nick!"

He smiles again. "Yeah. I hope so. I hope so."

"I had ammy neza, you know," I tell him.

"What? Oh, amnesia. Really?"

"Yeah. I couldn't remember anything that happened yesterday at Mr Way's house. But I had these flashbacks, and then Gumshoe turned up and he told me everything he knew, 'cept the details, and I kind of...got the wrong impression..." I shrug, embarrassed. "Sorry. But I worked it out in the end."

He grins, and that might just be the happy grin of a lawyer who's proud of their student.

"It's not over yet," he reminds me. "We're the only two witnesses. We'll have to stand up in court, and I could still be a suspect."

"Well, we shouldn't have anything to worry about," I tell him. "After all, it's only the witnesses who lie in court that end up being accused by murderers. And we've already got the truth. We just have to tell it."

He laughs.

"Anyway, I should...probably be getting back to hospital," I admit, then give one of my trademark 'Maya pouts'. "I don't want to, though!"

"C'mon, Ms Fey," he says affectionately, and I take his hand and walk out of detention and into the afternoon sun.

But there's something bad coming. I can feel it. Something tells me that this might be one of the last truly happy days Nick ever has again.

But I think I'll believe in him when that day arrives. And I'll keep doing it, for however long I need to. Because if being surrounded by lawyers has taught me anything at all, it's managed to teach me that.

Tell me about him.
My sister had asked me that a long time ago. I had just told her that he was way, way too hyper, but had the potential to be a great lawyer, if he toned himself down a bit. Young for his age. Way too young.
Tell me what you know about him. All about him, please, Sis?
That one came a bit later. She had finally met him, and I was dead. You’ll just have to figure this one out by yourself, Maya...I’m sorry.
He’s so grown up! He’s so cool! Sis, don’t you think so?
No. He’s still a child. Young for his age...I told her that. She didn’t believe me.
Sis...he’ll save me, right? Phoenix will make everything OK.
So I wrote back. I wrote that yes, he would make everything OK. Because Phoenix was growing up right before my eyes, and right then and there, I knew for sure he could handle everything. He would save everyone in the end. And he did.
You’re hiding the wound...under your mask!
Phoenix and I, as one, condemning Godot, burning him away with the bitter flavour of the truth, and Diego had returned once again.
Diego wasn’t the only one hiding wounds under a mask. His was just more obvious than Phoenix’s, and Maya’s.
When the mask slips, Phoenix sounds old for his age. So, so old. I told this to my sister. She replied with the words; “I know.”
Maybe I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did.
The day after Iris’ trial, Pearl channelled me. So when I woke, in Phoenix’s tiny, shabby apartment, I found a note telling me that she was worried about her cousin. She thought I needed to speak to her.
Voices were issuing from the room next to me. The door was ajar. I listened.
“Maya...”
“Nick, I’m fine!”
Silence.
“No, you’re not.”
She attempted to giggle. “Nick, don’t be stupid. C’mon, don’t you wanna go scout for some cases? I’m bored.”
“No!” And his voice was loud and fierce. I peeked through the door but didn’t announce myself, deciding that this might not be the best time to intrude. Maya looked quite taken aback. Phoenix’s hands were resting flat on the table, ready to slam it. He actually looked quite imposing, with his jagged eyebrows, broad shoulders and glaring blue eyes.
“Nick!” she squeaked, and he slumped.
“Maya. Sorry. But...you’re...you’re not OK. I can’t just keep going, doing the things we do, when...” He rested his chin on one hand, rubbing his face wearily, before Maya stood up abruptly, sliding her chair back.
“It’s not just for Pearly, OK!?” she snapped. “You think I don’t care about you? You think I don’t know that you’re hurting, too? Why can’t y-you let me do something for you? W-why, how, do you stay so strong?” The tears were streaming down her face by this point. “Sis s-said that you...you’re hiding things too...”
Phoenix stood up and moved forward.
“You’re always looking after me...Nick...I’m just a nuisance, aren’t I? She turned around and wiped her face clumsily with her sleeve. I shrank back from the door. “I try to k-keep, a brave face on...for you, so you don’t feel guilty. So you don’t have to w-worry about me. I’ll leave, I’ll just let you forget me. Please, Nick, don’t...”
He gathered her in his arms and held her tightly, as she began to cry in earnest. “It’s OK...” he whispered. “Maya...stay with me. Stay. It’s OK, I’m here.” He stroked her hair, holding her tightly. I nearly decided to leave, to let them have this private moment together, but something kept me rooted to the spot. Pearl’s instincts, probably. Yes, definitely her instincts.
“It’s OK...” And he continued to whisper words of comfort, reassuring her, telling her that she was fine, he was fine, Pearl was fine, just relax...
Maya’s sniffles subsided as she hugged Phoenix in return. “Sorry, Nick,” she sighed.
“Don’t apologise to me ever again,” he told her, stroking her hair.
“Oh, really? So now can I tell you how Pearly and I –“
He laughed. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”
“’Course I do. It’s in my nature.” She turned her face upwards, eyes sparkling with tears and mischief.
“Yeah, it is. It is.”
When he kissed her, I closed the door and returned quietly to Pearl’s room, leaving her a note before I left. I think I heard a vague squeal of joy as I flew upwards, returning to the spirit realm.
Pearl – I don’t think she needed my help with matters. Someone else managed to get to her before I did. Don’t interrupt her, she’s with Phoenix.
-Mia

“Nick...you sure you want to do this?”
“Y-yeah...”
I want to sound certain, but my voice wobbles despite my good intentions. I mean, who would willingly sit on a block of ice chanting words in a foreign language 30,000 times while having ice water tipped on your head the whole time, all night!?

The answer; Me, that’s who. First fire and lightning, now ice and freezing water. I do really stupid things for this girl.

“This is your last chance to back out,” says Bikini gravely. “Are you absolutely certain that you wish to accompany Mystic Maya on the Special Course?”

“Yes,” I say, firmly this time. I’m going to complete this, for Maya’s sake. Even after the disastrous events of last week, she’s signed up to take the ‘Special Course’ again. So I’ve made up my mind to do it with her. Even if that means that I’ll have to wear a flu mask for the rest of my life.

A shadow crosses Maya’s face – what’s she thinking? Does she not want me along? Is she thankful? Relieved? Guilty? Worried? I’ll never know, it seems, because within a second the flicker of deeper emotion has gone, leaving her smiling and jaunty. She’s already wearing the traditional Hazakurain robes instead of her usual acolyte gear, topknot obscured by the Demon-Warding hood, and shows no sign of anxiety about the ordeal she’s about to undergo. Considering that something so terrible happened last time she entered the Sacred Cavern, I was very surprised when she told me she wanted to do it again. Properly, this time.

“Alright, Nick!” she says cheerfully. “It’s too late to back out now!” She turns to the chest leaning against the wall, old European oak looking out of place in the chilly Inner Temple, and removes a set of deep magenta shrine maiden robes, like the ones Iris and Bikini wear. “You’ll have to wear these on the Course!” She thrusts the pile of rosy silk into my arms.

“She’s right,” puts in Bikini. “It’s the custom for those taking the course to wear the Hazakurain traditional robes!” She laughs merrily as I stare, dumbfounded, at the two of them. Maya is grinning nervously. “Heh, Nick...it’s OK, I mean, nothing wrong with wearing girl’s clothes, right...?”

“It’s fine,” I respond. Gotta do this. I’m doing this for Maya...
Slowly, I remove my jacket and tie, shivering, and then my shirt. I’m keeping my trousers on, shrine maiden robes or not. I get a glimpse of Maya blushing madly and I try to convince myself that Bikini isn’t snickering under her breath, before I slip on the white undergarment thing with long sleeves that cover the hands, then the baggy mauve dress thing, the magenta yukata and the crimson sash...

Wow. I’m quite the sight, aren’t I?

“Nick, you look just like Iris now!” says Maya brightly, hands locked in place behind her back.
I scowl at them, but soon burst into laughter as well. I must look pretty hilarious.
“You’ve forgotten some things, Mystic Maya,” says Bikini between bursts of laughter. “The Demon-Warding Hood. And the Magatama. Wa ha ha!”
I’ve already got them. I reach into the Court Record – which is currently Maya’s duffel bag – and withdraw the Hood that Iris gave to me, and my Magatama. Bikini’s eyes widen in surprise.

“You mean...that Magatama is real?”
Maya nods, clapping her hands together and grinning. “I gave it to him personally!”
I slip the object into the pouchy sleeves of the robe and tie the Hood over my head. “Alright, you ready?”
“It wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t!” she says cheekily, and has heaved open the door to the Cavern while I’m still working out what she just said. A blast of cold air rushes out, turning my face numb the moment it hits me.

And I’ve just volunteered to sit in these conditions all night.

Apprehensively, I step forward. Bikini has set up an armchair outside the cavern, and has a shawl tossed over her back. Hopefully this means she won’t be heading back to the main hall for a bath anytime soon. I take another step –

And we’re in the Cavern. I shiver as Bikini shuts the door behind me with a bang.
“You know what the prayer is?” Maya says, her teeth chattering.
“Y-y-yeah,” I manage to get out. There are two large blocks of ice on the cavern floor. “S-something Japanese, I think it’s ‘aishiteru wa ‘. Just ‘aishiteru wa’ over and over?”
“You’re pronouncing it wrong, Nick!” says Maya, maintaining her cheerful tone as she dashes over to her iceblock. “It’s ‘aishiteru wa’! Not ‘aishiteru wa’!”

Huh?

“Um, OK,” I say as I gingerly sit down on my block of ice. “AHH! That’s cold!”
“Well, yeah,” says Maya, then something else, but her words are drowned out by the achingly, bone chillingly freezing torrent of icy water that has just been poured on both of our heads.

“Aaaahhhh!” I gasp, trying to suck in air, but it’s icy cold, like breathing in refrigerated knives. What was that thing we had to chant again? I look over at Maya, frosty air puffing from my nose and mouth, to see that she’s sopping wet and shivering but is chanting the words.

Aishiteru wa...
Aishiteru wa...
Aishiteru wa, Phoenix.

I have to do this. I have to be strong for Maya. I open my mouth, and begin to chant.

My lips are numb. My nose is freezing off my face. My teeth are chattering.

Water. Ice water. Coursing over my body, seeping through my clothes, driving onto my face like needles. Frosting onto my hair, my nose, my hands.

I’m shivering. Shivering all over. Trembling all down my spine, in long, powerful shudders.

The words are coming out as breathy whispers. My muscles feel like slabs of burning ice.
Cold.
Cold.
Cold.
Cold.

I look at Maya from the corner of my (watering) eye. She’s swaying slightly, her lips are purple, but they’re moving, thank Ami Fey. Ha, I’m thanking Ami Fey? Must be going native.

Cold.

The Demon-Warding Hood is clinging to me. It feels like ice.

Cold.

I continue to chant.

The cold. So cold. So cold and numb, so painful. I can’t feel my body anymore, it’s so numb. I’m drifting on a cloud of ice water. I chant, and chant -

And suddenly, there’s a break in the deluge of freezing water. We get a break? Bikini is in a merciful mood. I shift closer to Maya and sit on her iceblock.
She mumbles something in my ear – ‘Aishiteru wa’ – and drops her head into my lap. I enjoy the sensation of warmth and her silky hair spilling out of the Hood and onto my arms, but she has to finish the course, she can’t give up! She’s barely breathing... I prop her up, balance her against my shoulder. She looks at me gratefully, and I feel like she wants to say ‘thanks, Nick...’ but all that comes out is ‘aishiteru wa’. But it doesn’t matter, because I understand.

Then the water starts again, and I realise I’m still chanting. I pick up the pace and volume, saying the words louder, as the water courses down, drenching us farther and sending us spiralling into a vortex of cold.

That weightless feeling. The feeling of being so numb, so disconnected, that I’m floating. It’s back. And the hood that Iris gave me is coming loose. I clutch the Magatama with the remaining feeling I have in my hands. Locks, chains, spirits and fire, ghostly nines and butterflies. Cold and water and flowers burning in the ice.

Ah, it can all go to hell. I shrug off the hood, and dare the demons to fight me.

“Aishiteru wa!”

I have her Magatama in my hand, and her blessing in my ears, and I’m never letting go. Water above, ice below...it’s nothing, because Maya is beside me. I tilt my head back, so the water crashes onto my face like thunder and lightning -

“Aishiteru wa!”

I’m going to complete this. I’m going to do this. I’m being borne down by the torrent of water, it’s beating me down to the ice, but Maya is there for me and we prop each other up, shouting into the darkness.

“Aishiteru –“

“-Wa!”

And nobody can pull us apart.
The water stops.
I blink, slowly.
It’s stopped. I force myself to stop chanting. After saying the same words 30,000 times, it’s kind of hard to stop.

Maya looks at me. A little, breathy sigh passes her lips and she collapses, the ordeal over.

I blink again, still clutching the Magatama, and fall to the ice.

I’ve endured storm, darkness, fire and water and ice. And I don’t regret it. Because Maya is and always will be at my side, no matter what.

No matter what.

“Nick!” I yell, hammering on the door labelled ‘Wright & Co. Law Offices’. “Niiiiiiiick! Come and let me in already! I know you gave me my own key but I left it in the sleeve of my training robes back in Kurain, and I kind of have to wear these new Master’s robes now, and I forgot –“
That stops me short. Maybe he’s not answering because he’s mad at me for losing his stuff all the time. Stuff like his key. Do you have to pay for those things?
I shrug and continue to hammer on the door.
“Let…me…IN! NICK!”
Silence.
Maybe he’s out at Eldoon’s, getting some noodles for us?
Or he’s getting the shopping.
Or out investigating a case that came up in the last day.
After all, he knew I was coming back today for a visit. It’s been two months since my mum died, and since then he knows I’ve had to sort out stuff with her funeral and ceremonies and induction into the Fey Council and stuff…
He did know, right?
Yes, he did. I called him a week ago. He seemed OK then.
He’s gotta be at the noodle place. It’s pretty early, actually. Maybe he isn’t out of bed.
Yeah. I stop knocking, and sigh.
Maybe he’s getting the paper.
Of course, he’s not in there ignoring me. ‘Course not.
I sit down against the wall and make myself comfortable. I have to wait for him. I have to wait for him to get back.
So I wait.
Then there’s the sound of a key in a lock, the doorknob clicks, and Nick walks out of the office. Then he sees me sitting on the floor with my legs drawn up. I probably look idiotic, wearing this official Master’s kimono and all.
“Wha-“ he says in shock, “Maya!”
I peek out from behind my hair and grin at him, relieved that he hadn’t known –
“I thought you’d gone already,” he says with his teeth gritted together, running a hand through his hair. He’s looking very rumpled, I notice through detached eyes. No badge. He’s got on an old hoodie over his blue trousers, and he’s wearing a pair of comfy sandals in place of smart black shoes.
“What?” I say, stunned.
“...needed to wait for you to go so I can go buy groceries….” I hear him mumble.
I get to my feet, puffing up my cheeks angrily. “Phoenix Wright, were you ignoring me?”
“Yes,” he says calmly, and I stare at him in disbelief. Nick, my friend, my best friend, the person who risked both his reputation and his life for me...the person most important to me in the world…is standing there, right in front of me. But Nick wouldn’t say…that…
His face hardens. “Yes, Miss Fey, I was ignoring you. It’s because…” and he pauses now and turns his head away, and I don’t know why, but when he turns back his face is set and determined. “I do not wish to speak to you. I do not wish to speak to you ever again.”
I let the air out of my cheeks and brush my hair out of my eyes. Then I straighten my clothes, roll up my sleeves and slap him hard across the side of the face, and open my mouth to tell him to wake up, look up and see who’s talking to him, or stop the joke, it’s not funny! He’s turned his head away so I can’t see his eyes, and there’s this weird grim smile on his face. It doesn’t look like I hurt him at all. He looks like nothing will ever hurt him again.
“I’m surprised you’re so upset, Miss Fey.”
He’s talking like a stranger. Yeah, it’s Nick’s voice, but it’s not Nick talking.
“I mean, what with the revelation to everyone…about my true nature and all that…”
I stay silent. I can feel the tears at the corners of my eyes already. Such an embarrassing habit, and I always do it in front of him…
“I’m surprised you even came to visit! Get out, Maya.” His head snaps around, and he’s glaring at me with those navy eyes of his in that familiar face with the jaggy eyebrows and strong jaw, the spiky black hair, and I can tell he’s just suffered through something that’s ruined his life and it’ll never really heal, not really. He’s going to cover it up and hide the shame and just bear it because that’s what he does. I should know. I know better than anyone else. And he’s determined. He’s determined to win this and see this through, this charade of his, no matter what he has to do. No matter what…
But what hurt him so badly? Who? How?
“Maya, for your own good, I want you to leave right now,” he snaps, sounding almost normal for a second. “After all, you don’t want to be seen with Phoenix Wright, who fooled everyone with the pretense of an honest face for three years. Not the guy who forged that evidence in the big Gramarye case! Your village is starting to attract visitors again, I hear. You don’t want to spoil that by spending time with a low, devious scoundrel who made it big on trickery.”
I keep my face perfectly still throughout his rant. When he’s finished, he checks my face for a reaction.
He…what?
“Forged?” I ask.
He looks surprised. “You didn’t see any of the news? I was all over the headlines…”
“Nope. I was too busy getting here to buy a paper. What happened? Did you win a case?”
“No. I lost it,” he says savagely. “I requested for a piece of evidence to be forged that would win me the trial. I got caught out by some rookie prosecutor. And now, I’m not a lawyer anymore. So, here I am, Phoenix Wright, the Forgin’ Attorney whose true colours have been revealed at last. Do you understand?!”
By the end he’s almost pleading with me.
“You’re not a lawyer…not a lawyer anymore? Because you...forged evidence?”
For a second, a spasm of utter shock, disbelief, confusion, reluctance to accept the facts, and finally acknowledgment courses through my head. Nick is a lawyer. This is one of the fundamental facts of the universe.
But the guy standing in front of me isn’t Nick the lawyer.
“Do you understand me?” he repeats.
Put a brave face on…
“No,” I say. “No, I don’t. And I don't believe you forged anything, either."
“Don’t you?” he says, turning his head away again.
"Come on!" I sigh in exasperation. "You've never forged any evidence in your life! I've been with you for most of the cases of your career, and besides, you're too honest to cheat in court. Sis told me you were really beating yourself up about the Engarde trial."
"Maya, I'm telling you-"
“I know you, Nick. You’re trying to protect me! Oh, and being bitter and resentful too, but you’re also trying to protect me.”
He’s got his deadpan face on.
“You said it yourself, that I shouldn’t hang around you,” I explain. “And that’s not because you’ve randomly decided to hate me. Your true, evil self hasn’t mysteriously come to the surface. You’re trying to protect my image!”
“Protecting you?” he says savagely. “Protecting people…I’m done with that. I’ll never be able to protect anyone ever again!”
“Of all the stupid things to do!” I continue loudly. “Stop giving up stuff for me, Nick! It’s getting on my nerves, first with the Engarde case, then the Hazakura Temple thing-“
Suddenly a voice issues from another office across the hallway. “Excuse me, could you people please take the lover's tiff somewhere else? We're trying to work in here!"
“Shut up yourself!” I yell back, and stick my tongue out at the door.
I turn back to Nick and there’s this expression of utter tenderness and pain on his face, which he quickly replaces with a glare.
“But there’s something different about this time,” I continue forcefully. “Right now, I’m not going to take it. Because I refuse to let you insult me, pretend to hate me and send me back to Kurain because it hurts both of us too deeply and doesn’t do you any good!”
There’s silence.
“Why couldn’t you have left earlier?” he whispers. “When I wasn’t opening the door for you…that would have been so much easier…”
“I would have come back,” I assure him. “I’m always going to come back.”
“I don’t want you to,” he lies. “I don’t want…”
“I’ve relied on you for too long, Nick,” I say steadily. “But no one has ever given you a shoulder to cry on. You’ve spent too long protecting people. Now I’m going to protect you.”
“But-“ he says.
“NO ‘Buts’! Hah, Butz!”
“Maya…What about Kurain?”
“We’ll manage,” I say quietly. “I won’t be seen with you if you think that won’t work.”
He nods, relieved.
“But I’m sending you cash every month. And I’m paying for the office rent.”
“The office?” he said in surprise. “But…”
“You never know when an office might come in handy,” I grin. “On one condition; You write me reports of each new Samurai episode as it comes out. I’ll be busy as Master – and I’m not giving up on my Steel Samurai just for that!”
We look at each other for a moment, the people who know each other best in the world. I look up at him, and no, it’s not Nick the lawyer, it’s someone new…but still the same guy underneath and it always will be, because he’s an attorney to the core whether he’s got a badge or not.
I realise that I’m crying. I smile through the tears, and stand up on tiptoe to kiss him on his stubbly, hollow cheek.
The door from the other office bursts open, and out walks a young man, a younger woman trailing behind him. The guy sports a shiny, new yellow badge on his collar. An attorney’s badge. I’d wager a guess that the lady behind him is his assistant. She’d sidebar with him, find the crucial piece of evidence, stand in the way of an insane prosecutor with a stun gun for him…
But, no…that’s not who we are anymore.
I take Nick’s hand. We’ll cry over the badge in private. For the things we’ve lost, for the people we aren’t anymore. I look up at his face, to see that he’s crying too.
The young lawyer and his assistant are giving us weird looks. Nick grins and waves. Their mouths drop open, in recognition perhaps of the famous Phoenix Wright, but I’m already dragging him into the office.
We’re not the people we used to be. We’ve lost a lot of stuff we used to take for granted.
But there’s always hope in a new beginning.
And I can just see it. The start of a new story…of a new chapter…of a new beginning…

So I am reading this and... wow.
I don’t really know what to say about this, but knowing AA – this makes scaring sense.
Something inside me wants to urge saying this might be over the top, but then I see the previous cases (coma, de Killer, Godot, Acro THE HELL) and it surely isn’t. (Holy Crap Borginia)
This goes for about the first half of the fic anyway.

From the Hydout Incidents on it kind of crossed the thin line that is my appreciation level, but seeing the style of this thing and the way you ended it – I feel that you need to get a review anyway. Because SOMETHING about it – I cannot point my finger on it – is amazing.

The single letters that you placed throughout the fic really intrigued me. They gave it an additional weight.

And surely there is no denial in this, whether you see it as plausible or not:
This thing is a burner.

There is only one thing left I’d like to ask.
The ending: Post or Pre 4-3?

I can definitely understand how not everyone would accept this scenario as plausible, especially after the, uh, 'Hydeout Incident'. But I really wanted to do something where Phoenix completely goes over the Moral Event Horizon. Remember how he reacted in 2-4 and 3-5 when Maya was in danger? He acted like he'd do anything to get her back. Placed under the stress of both losing his badge, and losing both Maya and Edgeworth, I figured that Phoenix can be kind of extreme in his devotion - see Feenie - and would go to any lengths to get Maya back. If he had to choose between waking her up, saving her life, and not killing a nutcase who was rushing at him, especially after all the stress he's been through, I figured he'd choose the former. And what about the other killers in the series, the ones who were...or still are good people? Out of many, many possible alternate timelines, this is the one where..this happens :P This fic started out as a kind of behind-the-scenes sort of thing to AJ, but I figure it's AU now - like, what if Maya was in a coma during those seven years? What would be different? I think this fic takes place before 4-1, but I doubt that AJ would even happen in this timeline.

Yeah, I totally figured where you wanted to go. I mean eventually - in the lines of this fic of course - I started to ponder myself.
Like I said the first half of it is pretty plausible as well.
The cocon thing for example had me nagging for the whole story, you see. Of course AJ is happening in 7 years, and seeing that the cocon takes about 6 1/2 years, you dunno WHEN he actually ordered it, hence this last question. It seemed... to fit the timeline and something inside me already prepared to read about about Phoenix going nuts after finding out that his precious cure has been BURNED TO CRISPS during a concert.
Of course in-game the cocon was for the kid of high places, but if they bring one already, how can another one hurt. These weren't exactly big.
I dunno really whether I should be glad that you didn't make him go bloodshed over that possibility or disappointed that this kind of emotional thrill is lacking completely.

Yeah, you have a point there. 3-1, awesome xD
So while the first incident could still be digested as an accident or self-defense, I doubt though that he'd go on with it. Hm... *bites lip* It could as well be a Dahlia syndrome. The first step is always the hardest part, huh?
Acro would be disappointed.


I don't actually mind the coma scene that much to be honest and... AJ not happening... hm... maybe yeah, maybe no. I think if I tried I could still see it work. Phoenix just always waits for the right opportunities (4-4) so he could have just as well waited for a time where he was innocent (4-1) and BAM - let it begin. The only thing to irk me about it would be his motivation there. The AU versoin you created here - I cannot see him stand up for innocents anymore, whether or not Apollo is making him relive his pasts and that kind of ruins his badassery from 4-4. *scratches head* Oh well xD

Well, I needed a medicine that Phoenix couldn't get easily, and the Borginian Cocoons fit my purposes very well. I had no plans to tie the story into 4-3...basically, the idea of the story came to me like this:

~Why doesn't Maya show up in AJ? hmm.
~Oh, it's because she was in a coma.
~What would Phoenix do? Ahahha, I know, he'd go insane! A story where Phoenix turns into a psychopath? This'll be fun!
~And at the end...he'll wake her up...and she won't recognise him, because he's turned into a blood-covered monster!

That was the idea I began with. Everything else, including the Borginian Cocoons, de Killer, Trucy, Kristoph, Edgeworth, Armando...that all came to me WHILE I was writing.
Though it is so central, the story isn't really about the cure in the end. It's about waking Maya up. Technically the same thing, but not. I think it might be a bit cheap to just burn up Phoenix's cure...not really a satisfying ending.



Oh, I dunno, he DID kill a lot of people :P I didn't think the ending was lacking in emotional thrills...



Yeah. I think he probably got used to it...like, the first time it's the hardest, the second time is slightly easier, and as time goes on he would be completely desensitised.
The reason he kept going - well, what his Evil Boss said the first time goes for all the rest. If he doesn't get rid of people for his Evil Boss, he'll get fired, which means no job and no cure and no Maya. :D The point is, he's willing to slowly let go of his moral code in order to get her back.

AJ...really can't see it happening at all, as Phoenix will probably get thrown in jail straight after this fic, completely negating 4-1 Or 4-1 would be Apollo defending him for the murder of the nursei...and, uh, failing, because Phoenix DID murder the nurse. Besides, Phoenix has been busy getting hold of a cure and being psycho, he hasn't had time to make the Jurist System...basically, it'd have to be AJ without Phoenix. And seeing as Phoenix was pretty much the centre of that game, I don't know how that would work.... D:

Well, let's say "this particular additional one" ;D
And I surely wouldn't have let the burning be the final end for it, I would have rather looked at it like some sort of further challenge to throw him aback a bit more - the intermediate before the final so to speak... let's just see how much more pressure the poor guy can hold. Let his brain start up again and think of a second option. Because, to be honest I can't help but think that getting that cocoon and just... wait for it is the easy way of doing it. And let's not forget that the son of this Police dude was still sick as well. I doubt High Place People would let him just die like that. That all would have probably required a Multichaptered fic though. Too much twists for a Oneshot - but twists is what AA is made of xD
But hey, this is all theorising. I don't really require it to happen. The fic was fine as it is - but theorising and assumptions just belongs to reading a fanfic, if you truly are an AA fan, don't you think? ^^


I suppose the nurse kind of slipped my mind there for a second - but if we leave this out for a second and consider how he's always been laying low, my brain can somehow see Phoenix going "Whooot! FINALLY Someone has been killed and it was NOT by me. I'll just find the true killer and blame it all on him" as some sort of strange psychological way to deal with his own guilt.
After he got the cure after all there would have been no more reason to listen to the murder options and I doubt his boss would still want to lose Phoenix's poker value.
By then of course, I doubt Phoenix would have been in the right mind to think so far ahead anymore.

Actually, you're right, but I don't think I'd have the energy to fit more 'challenges' for Phoenix in a oneshot...burning the cocoons would take too much time and I'd need to write around it and this was pushing on 10 000 words already...but if this was a chaptered fic, that would probably be the way it would go.

I'd think it through more to fit with AJ better. We'd see the process of Phoenix turning into a psychopath in more detail, there'd be more challenges along the way (as you said - just sitting there and waiting for the medicine seems the easy way out, but I wasn't going to write any more than 10 000 words), there would be Pearl, more Trucy, there woulld be more convincing and leading up to the first murder...maybe one day I'll expand this into a chaptered fic. It could work as an improved extension to this oneshot.

Hmm, if Phoenix in this scenario found some way to cover up his murder of the nurse there...actually, he'd probably kill Zak in 4-1. But if Kristoph got to Zak first, and Phoenix, in a sociopathic manner, pretended to be sane in court, 4-1 could work. But there's still the whole thing about Phoenix's motives being completely different here. In canon, Phoenix's goals in those Seven Years was to solve the mystery of how he got disbarred, to raise Trucy and to reform the courts. In this fic...well, his goal is Maya. ^^;